Disclaimer: All hail Jo Rowling for giving us Harry and his world.

Come What May

Chapter Three

Several hundred miles away, Draco Malfoy paced around his bedroom in his family's manor. He was waiting for a summons from his father to join him and the other Death Eaters for an important meeting. Draco was to get his next assignment.

After leaving school abruptly near the end of the last term, Draco wasn't so sure he was ready for what the Dark Lord had in store for him this time. He was supposed to kill Dumbledore, but lost his nerve and let Snape take all the glory instead.

Since the end of the last term, his father had been broken free from Azkaban and had once again taken his spot as Voldemort's right hand man. If Snape had thought that would be his position, he was sadly mistaken. He had ratted Draco out as soon as he clapped eyes on Lucius again, and because of the bastard, Draco had been punished most severely. He still had the welts on his back, which were far from healing.

For some miraculous reason, he had received the usual Hogwarts letter a few days ago, and to his great surprise, he had been made Head Boy. Either they all were cracking up over there, or they had never taken Potter seriously when he told them several times that Draco was a Death Eater.

Yes, Draco knew about all of that. He knew that Potter suspected him ever since their brief meeting in Diagon Alley last summer when Draco was accompanied by his mother Narcissa. Draco had made the mistake of clapping a hand to his left arm where he was branded when that stupid woman, Madam Malkin, had tried to hem up the sleeve of his new dress robes.

Of course, Potter had to be too damn smart for his own good.

Draco wondered what his master had in store for him this time. He had been most displeased with Draco when he failed to kill Dumbledore, but on the other hand, was surprised that he had even managed to fix that Vanishing cabinet that allowed Hogwarts to be invaded by several Death Eaters on the night of Dumbledore's murder.

Draco had informed his father of his new Head Boy status as soon as he saw him again. Lucius had been overjoyed for some bizarre reason, and Draco had a feeling his next assignment would have something to do with it. He had a nasty feeling about it, as he really didn't want to be a Death Eater in the first place. He had been thrust out into the Dark world when his father had stupidly landed himself in Azkaban at the end of his fifth year.

"Damn all this, just damn it all to hell," Draco muttered to himself as he began to feel the burning on his arm that meant the Death Eaters were ready for him.

He spun on the spot to Disapparate to his father.

Once that awful constricting feeling wore off, Draco straightened up and looked around. The Riddle mansion. Of course, the only damn place the stupid gits could ever think of meeting at.

"Draco, how nice of you to join us," Lucius Malfoy's voice rang out.

Draco turned towards his father and walked over to join the circle of Death Eaters.

"I am here and ready to fulfill my duties," Draco declared, though on the inside, he wanted to tell them all to go screw themselves.

"Good, good. I daresay you'll enjoy this little task we've set you to. Now that the Grangers have been eliminated, it's time to get rid of that meddlesome daughter and Potter hero worshiper," Lucius stated.

Draco's head snapped up. "Grangers? Daughter? Father, what are you saying?"

Lucius's lip curled. "Tut, tut, Draco, haven't you figured it out yet? Fenrir and I had the pleasure of meeting the Grangers yesterday afternoon. Fenrir deleted Mr. Granger, and I had a little fun with Mrs. Granger. This is where you come in. That Mudblood daughter of theirs has been made Head Girl this year. And since both Head Boy and Head Girl have to share a common dormitory, you can help us out by killing her too. Convenient, no?"

"Wow, okay, hold on here. How did we find out that Mudblood was Head Girl? Severus is no longer at Hogwarts," Draco pointed out.

The Death Eaters laughed.

"Doesn't miss a trick, does he? No, I suppose I haven't told you yet. We've recruited a new one to take over as spy in Hogwarts. She's been given the Defense Against the Dark Arts post. Of course, we couldn't brand her with the Mark, but she can be trusted completely. She swore her allegiance to us and has promised to serve dutifully or she'd kill herself. Lucky we found her, eh?"

Draco's heart sank. He didn't kill Dumbledore last year because he didn't have the guts or the nerve. Snape took all the glory, and Draco was in the worst of graces for a while there while Voldemort decided what to do with him. He should have been dead, but supposedly due to some of his father's smooth talking, he was spared from death after all.

"Yeah, yeah, real great that we found her. Couldn't have cost us everything, right?" Draco stammered out.

The Death Eaters laughed again.

"Well, it could have ruined a lot. But in the end, it all comes down to you. Now, you won't disappoint us this time, will you, Draco? You'll be the son I always thought you were and you'll kill Granger like a good, faithful servant, won't you? Because you know what could happen this time, and I won't bail you out of trouble this time."

Draco gulped. This was it. Either he kill Granger, or he dies. Why did life have to be so damn complicated? Why did he have to be cursed with a stupid bastard like this for a father?

"Yes, Father. I will kill Granger. It'll be tricky, but I'll get her," Draco promised.

The Death Eaters roared their approval while Draco managed a weak smile. Lucius clapped him on the shoulder and gave him a rare smile. Inside, Draco was heaving in fear. If he couldn't kill Dumbledore, how the hell was he supposed to kill Granger?

Back at Grimmauld Place, the others had managed to coax Hermione out of her bedroom and back down into the kitchen for some food. They all privately agreed not to bring up any mention of her parents unless she brought it up first. They knew she could cope with it on her own terms as long as she was left well enough alone until she was ready to talk to someone about what happened.

"I don't know what to do to make her feel better, do you?" Ron muttered to Harry as they pulled out plates and cutlery for the table.

"No, just give her time. She'll come to us when she's ready. She doesn't look good, does she?" Harry muttered back, eyeing Hermione from his position behind her.

Ron shook his head. "She just needs a few days, a damn good amount of sleep, and some food. She'll be okay. She's our Hermione, she's got to be okay. What would we do without her?"

Harry didn't answer him, but he thought about what they would possibly be like if they didn't have Hermione with them. They had been friends through all the terrible things that happened. She was like a sister to Harry now, and he couldn't imagine what it would be like without the old Hermione back.

He shook his head to clear it of the nasty thoughts of life without Hermione and went to set the table with the load of plates he was holding.

Hermione sat at the table, watching everyone move around her, getting dinner ready. Surprisingly, Lupin was a spanking good cook and was pulling together something he said was his specialty. What it was, Hermione didn't want to know, as she often heard horror stories about the food bachelors made when it was just them to cook for and no one else to criticize their cooking.

While pretending to be interested in what everyone was doing, she was also plotting how to get Ginny out of her room for the next two weeks and to figure out how she could smuggle something back upstairs with her to help her ease her pain. She couldn't very well do it in front of everyone, as they'd stop her before she could even do anything.

She seized her chance when Ron came past, laying out silverware, not paying attention to what he was doing as he was busy teasing Ginny about something. He threw down a knife and fork at Hermione's place and moved on, not noticing what he was doing.

Hermione looked around, making sure no one was watching. Lupin and Tonks were laughing about something near the fire as Lupin stoked the fire, Harry was digging around in the pantry for something, and Ginny was busy yelling at Ron while he was still laying out the silverware. Hermione grabbed the knife off the table and wrapped it in a napkin before tucking it into the waistband of her skirt and pulling her shirt down to conceal it.

"Ron, I think you forgot my knife," Hermione said quietly as she tugged on his sleeve.

"I-what? Oh, sorry Herms, here you go," he said, not taking his eyes off his sister as he tossed another knife down.

'You are a rotten person Hermione, but you'll feel so much better once you use that thing,' she thought, feeling the lump that was the napkin against her skin.

The truth of it all was, in spite of the fact that her brain was working well enough to connive such a plan at getting a sharp, pointing object past the others, the rest of the brain that wasn't planning that out was drowning in the sorrow of her parents' deaths. She put up a good show on the outside, but inside, she was ready to throw herself out a window or something so that she could be with her parents again. The thought of moving on and living life without them was almost unbearable, and Hermione was constantly battling the impulse to run from Grimmauld Place and never turn back, just keep running to escape everything.

But she couldn't do that. She needed to finish her schooling so that she could join Harry and the others out there to end Voldemort and his followers. How they were going to do that was beyond her comprehension, but if Harry knew what to do, without Dumbledore here to help them, then she would trust Harry and follow him willingly into battle.

"Hermione, you doing okay?" Ginny asked as she sat down next to her.

Hermione jumped a little, being lost in her thoughts, but quickly recovered. "Yeah, I'm getting there. Listen, I kinda want to be alone for awhile, so you wouldn't mind sleeping in Fred and George's old room, would you? I just kinda need some space of my own for awhile until I get over this. Is that okay?"

Ginny looked slightly confused for a moment, but the look quickly vanished as she hastened to comply.

"Yeah, it's no big deal. I understand. Take all the time you need. Just, you know where to find me if you need anything, right?"

Hermione nodded.

'You sick, conniving bitch,' a voice in her head said.

'Shut up. I can't deal with this shit anymore. Leave me alone,' she told it.

'They're your friends. They came to help you through this, not to be stabbed in the back while you go off and slit your damn wrists,' the voice accused her.

'Look, I don't have to justify anything to you. Why am I even talking to a damn voice inside my head?' She screamed silently at it as she shook her head to shut it up.

Dinner passed without incident. Everyone was rather subdued, and any laughter that rang out was almost unnatural. Everyone was treading carefully around Hermione at the moment, afraid to say or do something that would set her off. But they didn't know that inside, she was rather calm and cool, knowing that she was about to ease her pain once she went upstairs.

Once she had finished, she pushed her plate away and stood up.

"I think I'll go take a shower and go get some sleep," she told them as they looked up at her.

"Get some sleep, Herms, you'll feel better," Ron said as she left the kitchen to find the peace and quiet of the dark, empty entrance hall.

She leaned against the wall for a second, closing her eyes. Everything threatened to engulf her again, something she had been fighting against for the past day. She didn't want to lose that fragile stability, so it made perfect sense that she could maintain it by letting go of some of her pain.

She bolted upstairs as quietly as she could and locked the door to her bedroom once she had reached it. She seemed to be seized by a sudden, maniacal state of mind. She felt reckless, more so than she did over the summer. This state of mind wasn't the sensible recklessness that she had felt over the summer, this was a crazed, not-in-her-right-mind state.

She pulled the napkin from her waistband and unwrapped the knife. She checked to see that the door was indeed locked and walked slowly over to her bed and sat down on the edge. She held the knife up and looked at it. What little light in the room made it gleam dangerously. Her heart began to beat faster, but her mind still stayed relatively calm.

She held out her arm, eyeing it thoughtfully. Now, how far did she want to go? Not enough to kill herself, although she had thought about it earlier. She knew she didn't really want to end it all and join her parents in death. She had friends and school to live for. But what were they compared to the loving stability that her parents had always offered her?

Stability. Love. Her parents. Their faces flashed before her eyes. Her father, his face slashed horribly. Her mother, her neck snapped and her body lying broken on the floor. The note written in their blood.

Watch your back, Granger. Even Potter won't be able to save your neck this time.

Hermione suppressed a whimper. "No, no, stop, just make it stop."

'It'll all stop if you just make a little mark. It'll all go away, just do it. One little mark. The pain will stop,' another voice in her head said.

Tears building in her eyes, she began to rock back and forth. Her parents were lying on the floor in front of her, the walls were coated in blood, Lucius Malfoy was laughing at her, and Greyback was advancing on her, his teeth bared.

She was falling through a dark tunnel, but her parents were still there and Malfoy was still laughing. Greyback was coming closer. . .closer. . .closer yet. . .

She brought the knife down and ran it across her wrist. The smallest imaginable line appeared, a small line of red barely visible.

Her parents were calling out to her. Greyback was breathing down her neck, Malfoy was writing the note in her blood.

Ready to die, Granger?

"NOOOOOOO! NOOOOO! MAKE IT STOP! GO AWAY!" She screamed as she ran the blade across her skin again.

The cut went deeper and she began to bleed harder, a small stream running down her arm and dripping gently onto the floor.

She wanted out, she wanted it to end. But before she could do anything more, the world began to spin and she stumbled off the bed and ran into a wall, clawing for escape as the blood continued to run from her cut.

She slumped down the wall in a dark corner away from the door. Footsteps sounded on the stairs, a distant noise to her as she rocked back and forth, whimpering, wanting her parents to vanish from the floor in front of her and for Greyback to quit breathing down her neck and for Malfoy to stop that annoying scratching with the quill, writing in her own blood.

The doorknob jiggled. Someone was trying to get in.

"Hermione! Open the door! Hermione! Come on, let me in, tell me what's wrong! Hermione!"

But Hermione couldn't hear them. Greyback was talking to her.

"I'll enjoy this one. I had the pleasure of meeting your father, girl. He fought bravely, but he wasted time trying to save your mother. I did a good job on him, didn't I? I think I'll make you look as good. Won't that be fun? Oh yes, such a pretty thing you are, I think we'll take care of your face first. . ."

He came towards her, his hands outstretched, his claws ready to slash her to pieces. . .

"GET AWAY FROM ME! NOOOOO! GO AWAY! STOP!"

But the claws connected with her face. She screamed murderously, clawing at her face, trying to get away from Greyback.

"GO AWAY! STOP! STOP! YOU'RE HURTING ME! MAKE IT STOP! SOMEBODY! HELP ME!"

Still clawing at her face, and screaming, she started sobbing uncontrollably. But Greyback wouldn't leave her alone.

The door burst open magically. Footsteps pounded into the room, then stopped. They were looking for her.

"Nooooo, nooooo, please, I don't want to die, go away, leave me alone," she moaned as her arm continued to bleed.

Arms went around her, shaking her.

"Hermione, Hermione, it's me, it's okay. Hermione, listen to me," a voice said.

A hand went to her cut, trying to stem the blood flow.

"Hermione, what happened to your face? What happened Herms? Talk to me," the voice asked gently.

She started shaking, rocking back and forth. She didn't want to talk. Talking didn't solve anything. They would just kill her in the end. Pretend to be nice, then stab you in the back and end it all.

"Tonks! Remus! Get in here! Quick!"

The arms went around her tighter, trying to get Hermione back to reality. But it was no use. She was gone. At least, in her mind, she was gone, lost in the pain and the maniacal laughing that was coming from one Lucius Malfoy and one Fenrir Greyback.