Hermione wasn't sure if the silence between her and Malfoy was terribly awkward or just a natural byproduct of the history of emnity between them. In either event, it was quite oppressive. She caught him staring at her more often then she liked, and she couldn't help wondering...what was he thinking? Was he thinking about her? About Voldemort? About the future? The whole thing was driving her a little crazy.
The only noise that accompanied them as they walked was the dull scrape of their footsteps on the stone and the steady, echoing drip of water somewhere in the distance. Hermione threw another quick look at Malfoy. He was staring at her again, looking slightly aggrevated.
"Yes?" she asked, looking at him quizically. Maybe he was going to snap and run hysterically out of the cave. "What do you want?"
Malfoy jumped about a foot in the air, staring at her as she were a ghost. "I don't want anything!" he said, a little hysterically.
"OK..." she said slowly. He must have been more afraid than she realized. "If you're scared of going ahead, there's--"
"I'm not scared!" he retorted indignantly.
"Well, alright then..." she turned away and continued walking. He lagged a few feet behind her.
"You're--in my head," he told her, looking a little irritated.
"I'm what?" she said, bewildered.
"You're in my head!" he repeated, still sounding a little hysterical. "You're not supposed to be in my head! I hate you!"
"Well--I--hate you too!" she replied haughtily. To her surprise, an odd look crossed Malfoy's face.
"Do you?" he asked. He looked almost...hurt.
"What?" she said, now deeply confused.
He looked away. "Nevermind..."
What the hell was his problem now? She had many theories, each one as unlikely as the other, and some of them so...horrifying that she was afraid to fully indulge them. They walked in silence for a little while longer.
"Do you...know what's coming next?" he asked, clearing his throat.
"A trial of mind over matter--logic in the face of fire," she said. She had already read through the next few pages, and at least looked over the remaining sections.
"Fire?" asked Malfoy. "Actual fire?"
"I don't think so," she said thoughtfully. "It's more like--emotional 'fire.' Something emotionally strenous to prove you can put logic over fear."
"Wow, that sounds like fun," he said sarcastically. He moved a few steps ahead of her, walking directly in her path.
"What are you doing?" she asked, now quite exasperated with having to ceaselessy question his motives.
"It could be dangerous," he said expressly.
"And...?"
"Well--I--said I would protect you," he said, as if it were obvious. "I swore an oath to Scarhead--"
"I don't need you to protect me," she said superciliously, hardly believing the words as they came out of her mouth. She never in a million years would have imagined she would have to say something like that to Malfoy of all people.
He smirked. "No," he said softly. "You really don't, do you?"
She sped past him and continued on down the hall, wishing she could shake the memory of his words out of her head.
000
The tunnel emptied into another cavern. Draco looked around--it seemed to be empty. That should have made him feel better, but instead he felt quite a bit worse. Hermione looked just as wary as he did. He moved a little closer to her.
Once they got close enough to see the other end of the cave, Draco could see the exit. No doors, no fire, no traps--it seemed it was just an open passageway in the cave wall. Somehow, he felt even worse. They were both moving very cautiously now.
"What else did Black say was in here?" he said, trying to hide the nervousness in his voice.
"Well..." replied Granger slowly. "When Regulus returned through the cave, he placed the Horcrux he retrieved back in its original resting place. He also said the magic of the cave wasn't too pleased with having a bit of Voldemort inside here. So it--I suppose you could say it upped the security a little bit."
"What does that mean?"
There was a rustling noise behind them. "I think we're about to find out," she said in an alarmed voice. They both turned around. The cave, once empty, was now swarming with tiny creatures. They were all identical, about the size of a fist. They seemed to be made of condensed black smoke, which shifted slighty as they floated along the floor and walls, swarming like insects. Draco saw hundreds of miniscule eyes glaring at him, glowing an angry red in the darkness.
"What are those?" he whispered.
"I'm not sure..." she said, staring at them critically. She thought for a moment. The creatures were getting closer. "Oh!" she said suddenly, her eyes lighting up. "Those--I think they're boggarts."
"Boggarts?" said Draco skeptically. "But I thought--"
"No one knows what they look like in their true form!" she said excitedly. "This is actually rather--"
"Fascinating?" snapped Draco. He had obviously chosen the correct word, because she fell silent and looked at him, tearing her eyes away from the ever increasing swarm of doom that was assembling on all sides of them. "No, Granger. Not fascinating. Dangerous and terrifying would probably be more apt descriptors, if you're looking."
"But--think of the scholarly implacations!" she argued. "No one has ever seen a Boggart in their true from--"
"Oh really?" he said contemptuously. "Did it perhaps occur to you, Granger, that no one knows what a Boggart truly looks like because no one who has seem in their true for has lived to tell the tale?" Granger's mouth snapped shut. This seemed to do the trick of getting her to realize the realistic implacations of being stuck in a cave with thousands of Boggarts. Impending doom. Not fascinating!
A cluster of black smoke and glittering red eyes was pushing closer to them.
"Riddiculus!" she cried, firing a spell into the cloud. The spell soared through their insubstantial bodies and bounced harmlessly off the floor. "Oh, dear..." she murmured, her eyes wide. Draco's initial instinct was to run away screaming, but he surpressed it. Aside from there being nowhere to go--if the Malfoy name still counted for anything in this world, he was going to prove it. Swallowing he stepped in front of Hermione as the darkness pressed in from all sides. She didn't protest. Draco wasn't even sure she noticed. They were only a few feet from him now...
Granger screamed from behind him. He whirled around. Tiny black creatures were swarming up around her in a cucoon-like cloud. The creatures seemed to fill the very air they were breathing with darkness. The entire cave was now pitch black aside from the thousands of glittering red eyes. Panicked, he grabbed her hand. The darkness was quickly concealing her from sight. She screamed again as the ebb and flow of the inky blackness yanked her out of Draco's grasp and swept her up towards the ceiling. She stared at Draco with wide, fearful eyes, her hand still outstreched downwards towards him. She disappeared into the darkness.
"Hermione!" he screamed, but he was too late--she was gone. He swore very loudly. He barely had a moment to notice that there was a tower of shadows and gleaming red eyes encircling him. He yelled and fired a spell at the shadow, but it sailed right through, leaving only a small hole of whispy black smoke that quickly reclosed. The towering shadow finally enfolded him, obscuring his vision with darkness. He lost all sense of orientation--he seemed to be floating in a dark void. He screamed again. He tried to grab his wand, but he couldn't move...
000
Hermione woke up in a very strange setting. The room she was in was very small and dank, the fabric of the bed and drapes was a stained, tattered white, and the thin mattress she was lying on creaked in protest when she sat up. A beam of golden sun filtered into through the grubby windows, illuminating the swirling clouds of dust she was inhaling.
"Where...?" She furrowed her brow. She was having trouble remembering how exactly she had gotten here.
"Hermione?" asked a voice. She looked in the bunk above her. A tired, sunken face was staring quizically down at her. "What is it?"
"I--I--'' stammered Hermione. The girl above her looked terrible. She was so thin and worn looking that she was hardly recognizable. "Lavender?" she whispered in disbelief.
"Well, yes," said the girl. There was expression on her face that looked like it was trying to be a bemused smile, but couldn't quite make it. "We've only been bunkmates for a year."
"Oh..." said Hermione weakly. "Yes..."
"Are you alright there, Hermione?" asked another voice. Across the very small room was another set of bunk beds. Across was a strech. Hermione had closets at home that were bigger that this room. Home...where was she?
She recognized the other two girls, despite their haggard appearences. One of them she was fairly sure had been in Ravenclaw a few years ahead of her, and the other was a despondant looking Susan Bones.
"Where is this place?" asked Hermione. She felt sore and hungry. She looked at clothes and realized they were rags. "I'm not...where are Harry and Ron?" She felt her tattered pocket. Something was missing. "Where's my wand?"
The girls exchanged significant glances, looking worried.
"We don't have wands," said Lavender, looking at her as if she were insane.
"Are you sure you're feeling OK, Hermione?" asked the Ravenclaw girl.
Hermione blushed slightly. "I'm fine," she said in a small voice. Something was so wrong here...but she couldn't figure out what it was. Heavy footsteps sounded in a corridor outside the door. Someone pounded harshly on their thin wooden door, rattling it so hard it almost flew off the rusted hinges.
"DUTY STARTS IN FIVE MINUTES." A magically enhanced voice boomed down the hall. The girls around her sighed audibly and grudgingly got up out of bed. Hermione flinched as she saw the cuts and bruises decorating their pale limbs.
"C'mon, Hermione," said Susan gently. "We'd better be off..." Hermione nodded numbly and followed them out of the room. She moved down the corridor, behind her roommates. There were others filtering out of their rooms, both male and female, most young, all looking tired and miserable. They moved slowly down the hall in a docile herd towards a set of open metallic doors.
Hermione gasped as she stepped outside. She was at Hogwarts. At least she thought she was. More likely--she was at the place Hogwarts had once been. The castle was still there, half of it standing strong, and the other half looked like bombed out ruins. The landscape was different too. It had always felt peaceful and alive when she was there, but now it was...dead. Most of the forest looked burned, and many trees had been toppled or blasted into splinters. Even the grass was yellowed and dry, and it crunched stiffly under Hermione's feet as she moved. An icy wind swept across the decimated landscape, shaking the dead plants in a dry hiss that sounded disturbingly like a death rattle.
"What h--happened?" she stammered in shock. Her bunkmates looked concerned again, but Susan gently grabbed her hand and tried to smile.
"When the Final Battle happened...it happened here," she explained patiently. "Most of the castle has been destroyed. The Dark Lord is having us rebuild it..."
"What?" asked Hermione. She could feel tears welling in her eyes. "The Dark Lord? We...no..."
She could see tears welling in Susan's eyes as well. "I know..." whispered Susan, squeezing her hand comfortingly. She smiled sadly. "Some days are harder than others." Susan wiped a tear from her face with the back of her hand. "Oh, goodness..." she said, chuckling despondantly. "Sometimes I think I'll run out of tears to cry, but everyday I find more..."
Hermione found that Susan was right. She, and vast groups of people with similar miserable dispositions and clothing were actually rebuilding the castle, brick by oversized brick, by hand. No magic. Not a single person had a wand, despite the fact that Hermione recognized many of them from school. Every once and awhile someone with a wand would come by and scream at them for no good reason. The "overseer" near Hermione and Susan was a huge hulking woman Hermione eventually recognized as Millicent Bulstrode.
They worked for hours. Hermione was freezing. Her clothes were so thin she felt like each gust of wind was blowing against her bare bones. She turned to find Millicent towering over her hunched figure, staring at her.
"Yes?" she asked. Her polite tone sounded so awkward in her current situation.
" 'Yes?' Don't give me that attitude, you Mudblooded bitch," she growled. She drew out her wand and slashed Hermione across the face with a cracking sound and a flash of light. Hermione gasped. She brushed her fingertips by her face and saw blood.
"You--you--how dare you--" gasped Hermione, angrily rising to her feet.
"Hermione, no--" hissed Susan. She grabbed Hermione by the frayed edge of her shirt and pulled her back down into a squatting position.
"What has gotten into you today?" asked Lavender in bewilderment, after a scowling Millicent had blundered away. Hermione hefted another brick onto the pile in front of her, wordless and furious.
"I don't understand," she moaned, blinking back tears. "This is--wrong. Where are Harry and Ron?" Susan looked at the ground.
"Maybe we should go to the Wall tonight," she said quietly.
"Susy, no," hissed Lavender. "That's to dangerous--you were just there last week--"
"We have to," said Susan resolutely, gazing at the miserable expression on Hermione's face.
Later that night, sore and achy from the days work, Hermione followed Susan and the girl she didn't know deep into the remains of the Forbidden Forest. Susan cradled a candle stub in her hands. It illuminated their path with a fragile, flickering light. Dry leaves crunched beneath her feet.
Hermione didn't ask where they were going. They made the entire journey in absolute silence. Lavender threw terrified glances over her shoulder every few seconds. They reached a large tree. It was charred and blackened, but still standing tall.
"Dumbledore," said Susan in a soft, trembling voice. The trunk slid open, revealing a shadowed staircase of rotted wood planks. They made their way down into the bowels of the cave underneath the tree. It was about the size of her dorm room at school. The walls were bare and made layers of dirt and fragmented roots. The room was empty expect for a few dead eyed people crowded around a large cardboard plaque. It was covered in countless rows of shaky handwriting. Hermione squinted at the text, and after a second she realized--names. Oh, god--there were hundreds of them. She stepped forward and placed a trembling hand upon the cardboard.
"What is this?" she asked.
"Names of--" Susan's lower lip trembled, but she swallowed hard and forced herself to continue. "--the fallen. In the 2nd Great War." Tears were running silently down her face. "They died trying to fight the Dark Lord." Lavender burst into tears, and Susan raced forward to hug her.
Hermione ran her fingers over the surface of the board. Her eyes fell upon one of the names. Ron Weasley.
"No..." she whispered, but her intelligent eyes had already traveled down the column. Molly Weasley. Arthur Weasley. William Weasley. Charles Weasley. Percival Wealsey. Fredrick Weasley. George Weasley. Ginerva Weasley. "No..." She couldn't breathe. "This can't be..."
"Th--they don't even have graves," sobbed Lavender. "They took the bodies--and--" She cried harder.
Her eyes continued to rove the list. We remember the sacrifices of our fallen comerades...Nymphadora Tonks. Remus Lupin. Albus Dumbledore. Sirius Black. Harold Potter...
She couldn't read anymore, her eyes were obscured with tears. "NO!" she choked out. "This can't be!" She whirled around and faced them. "Is this all we have left? Have we given up?"
"We used to m--meet here, under this tree. The resistance. But then...everything went--bad. You s--said it yourself," said Susan, her voice tight. "We..." Her lip trembled again.
"We have no hope left."
Hermione couldn't speak. She whirled around and raced from the hideout, ignoring the strangled protests of her friends.
You've failed them all! A voice in her head was screaming at her as she ran. You're all alone! You've failed everyone you've ever loved, and now you've lost them! You've failed everyone! It's all your fault! You failed them all. You failed! FAILED! And now they're dead! ALL OF THEM!
She ran across the dead, darkened grounds, feeling a cold, heavy weight sinking in her chest. She wanted to scream, but she couldn't find the voice in her tightened throat. Tears obscured her sight as she ran. She didn't know where she was going. Something told her she should be somewhere, now. She turned and raced towards the opposite side of the grounds, towards the Whomping Willow. The path felt oddly familiar.
Someone was standing under the tree. It's branches were still. A shadowed figure in a sweeping black cloak was leaning casually against the trunk. The figure raised his wand and cast a Lighting Spell. Hermione's breath caught in her throat. Was it a guard?
"Hermione?" asked the figure. His voice sounded familiar. "You're late, Granger. I thought you weren't coming." She relaxed slightly in the absence of hostility, but was still apprehensive. She moved closed. The figure extended something towards her in one of his hands. "I brought the usual," said the figure. She wasn't sure what to do. She stared at him.
"Oh, come on," he said impatiently. He pulled the black hood off of his face, revealing a pale face and a crop of shiny, platinum blond hair. It was Malfoy. "I don't have all night here." He extended his hand farther. The object moved into the light--it was a book. She gaped at it, finally accepting it into her hands.
"Why did you bring me this?" she asked in disbelief.
"Why?" he sounded bewildered. "I don't know...you like to read don't you?"
"Y--yes..." she said in a strangled voice. "Tell me--" she snapped her head up and locked eyes with him. "What happened. How did we get here?"
He looked at her strangely. "You fought," he said flatly. "You lost."
"But I--Voldemort wanted you dead," she said. A wild look crossed Malfoy's features.
"Don't say that name!" he hissed. He scowled. "He welcomed me back when I brought him one of the Horcruxes and practically handed him Potter on a golden platter." He shrugged. Hermione backed away in horror.
"You--what?" she stammered.
"I handed him one of the Horcruxes," he said, as if it were obvious. "And I led Potter into a well placed trap."
The book fell from her hands. "No..." she murmured.
"What was I supposed to do? I'm not about to fight on a losing side. We Malfoys are survivors."
This couldn't be real. Lavender and Susan were running towards her.
"Hermione!" cried Susan. Malfoy looked at them angrily.
"What are they doing here?" he demanded. "They can't know I've come here."
"Hermione--" She never finished her sentence. Malfoy pulled out his wand. A flash of green slammed into her chest and she fell to the ground, dead as the world around her.
"NO!" screamed Hermione. "What are you doing?"
"Be quiet, Granger!" he growled.
"You bastard!" cried a tearful Susan. She ran towards Malfoy. He called out another curse, and she fell to the ground, bleeding from her mouth, nose, and the huge gaping slash across her chest. Hermione collapsed forward and cradled the dying Susan in her arms. Blood poured out onto the dried, yellow grass.
"Give me your wand," Hermione begged Malfoy.
"You know I can't do that," he drawled, crossing his arms. He watched impassively as the life ebbed out of Susan.
"I'm sorry," whispered Susan. She coughed up blood in jet-like spurts. "I told Auntie Amelia I'd keep fighting, even if she...went away...I...m sorry..." She fell limp in Hermione arms.
Hermione was crying. This can't be happening. This was wrong. It was all wrong.
"HOW CAN YOU DO THIS?" she screamed at Malfoy, he eyes screwed shut.
"This is who I am, Granger," he said harshly. "You can't see that?"
"NO!" She stood up. "THIS ISN'T REAL! IT'S ALL WRONG!"
"Is it?" he hissed. "You tried, you failed. This is reality."
"IT'S NOT! IT'S NOT!" She was screaming like a toddler in the bout of a furious tantrum. She stopped suddenly, reaching a moment of sudden clarity. "It's not."
"This is the real world, Granger," he said softly.
"No," she said. Tears poured down her face, but her voice was strong. "No, it's not."
"Why not?" he sneered.
"Because I won't let it," she said quietly. "I won't let the world be this way."
"Too late," he growled.
"It's not," she met his eyes unflinchingly. "Never." He stormed forward, pointing his wand between her eyes. He glared at her, an ugly look on his face.
"Is this real enough for you?" he hissed menacingly.
"No." She smiled sadly. "This isn't you. You can't fool me."
"WHY NOT?" he screamed, frustrated.
"Because I have no choice." Tears were leaking down her face. "This isn't real." She stood a little taller.
"I believe in a better world. And I always will. I have to."
There was a blinding flash of light, and Hermione was once again engulfed in darkness.
000
Draco was walking in Diagon Alley next to his mother. She smiled at him. Her blue eyes were cold--as usual--but he knew that she cared for him more than anything in the world. In fact, he had exploited that fact on more than one occasion to get his way.
He heard someone screaming from behind him, and whirled around. In the middle of the street, a figure in a black cloak and hood was firing curses into the crowd. It wasn't a Death Eater's mask, but the hood obscured most of his face. He was killing people in the street at random. The street was littered with bodies. People were running and screaming.
His mother gasped from beside him. He stepped between her and the figure. He was the Head of the household--he had to protect her. The figure advanced towards them slowly. He seemed to be reveling in the mayhem and destruction he was causing. He approached them, leveling his wand at Narcissa.
"Leave her alone," cried Draco, whipping out his wand. "Why are you doing this?"
"I enjoy it," said the figure. His mouth was visible under the flap of the black hood, and a twisted smile curled onto it. Furious, Draco fired a spell at the figure. They dodged and flung themselves forward and backwards, dueling. They seemed to be pretty evenly matched. They circled each other, moving farther and farther down the street--at least they were moving away from his mother.
"Why are you fighting me?" asked the figure.
"You tried to kill my mother!" growled Draco.
"I killed a lot of people," he smiled again. "You didn't care about them, did you?"
"Shut up!" he hissed. "Who are you?"
The figure laughed. "You know who I am." Draco blocked another curse. He fired a Misfacio Curse at the figure, who dodged it with equal agility.
"I don't," he grunted in response.
"I'm as powerful as you are," said the figure, sidestepping gracefully. "And as intelligent. And as strong." The figure held up his hands. They were covered in blood. Great red streams of it dripped down his sleeves.
The figure jumped up, swooping away out of sight. Draco looked around through narrowed eyes. "I revel in the chaos I bring," called the voice of the figure. It echoed hollowly, seeming to eminate from all directions. "It's an honor to bring it." Draco didn't respond. He heard a footfall behind him. Smiling darkly to himself, he waited until the last possible second before whirling around, attempting to catch his opponent off guard.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!" he screamed. Narcissa Malfoy's clear blue eyes widened in fear as the Killing Curse sped towards her. Draco stood paralyzed, wand still aloft, eyes equally as wide.
"Draco..." she whispered. The curse slammed into her chest and she toppled downwards, dead before she hit the ground.
"NOOOO!" he screamed in despair. He raced towards her, but the black shrouded figure swooped down in front of him and held him back.
"You killed her," hissed the figure.
"NO!" he cried desperately. "It was an accident!"
"You did it on purpose," countered the figure. He pulled his sleeve up and pressed his arm next to Draco's. Two identical Dark Marks were side by side, seared into pale skin. "You wanted it, just as you wanted this. It burned like fire and ice when it appeared, and you felt the glory it brought you. And you liked it."
"No!" Draco struggled widely, trying to free his wrists from his opponent's grasp. He glared at the figure, something dawning on him. "You'd like to think so, wouldn't you...father." The figure laughed coldly.
"You're a killer."
"NO!"
"There's blood on your hands." The figure continued to laugh. "There always has been. It's your fault she's dead."
Draco broke away and back peddled, falling to his knees on the ground. His hands were coated in thick red blood. It flowed down his arms, soaking into his sleeves. "No..." he moaned.
"This is you," hissed the figure, advancing on him. "It always has been. Did you think you could escape your destiny? This is who you are..."
"No, it's not..." whimpered Draco. "I'm not--I'm not a monster." He scrambled backwards on his back, kicking his legs frantically and scuttling like a crab.
"You think so..." cackled the figure. He raised a pale hand to his hood, slowly pealing it backwards to reveal his face.
From his vantage point on the ground Draco watched in horror as the hood fell away.
His own face was staring back at him, smiling the same twisted smile that had been taunting him. Draco Malfoy watched his own face broaden into an even more dangerous smile. It wasn't his father. All along, it was...
"You see..." Draco cackled, as he gasped on the ground. "We are the same."
000
AN: Thank you all for your sympathy.
Onigiri Momoko: The that's cheating reference hearkens back to the advice Mikhala the vampire gave Ron in the pub. Go back and read it if you don't believe me!
ali-lou: Any lines stolen from Buffy are unintentional...it's just so deeply ingrained into my subconcious...lol.
Allied-inspiration: You can see I agree with you...
SilverShiver: The first riddle I made up, and the one about the key I made up (which is why it sucked). The middle two I found on the internet.
Niki: Voldemort was all obsessed with Hogwarts. He wanted a relic from Ravenclaw's tomb, so he made Regulus go and fetch it for him. Then he turned it into a Horcrux and made Regulus go put it back in the tomb. Just to clarify.
Next chapter: Look for some significant emotional drama angst. Yay!