Disclaimer: I don't own it... coughs gonna steal it coughs Lol just kidding.
IMPORTANT A/N: Okay everyone I am going to write a happy and a sad ending. Also I have gotten many reviews saying that I am rushing my story too much. I am soooo sorry and I kind of realized that. I should have done something about it. So tell me if this chapter is slower and at a good pace. I will try to do better on my chapters, but I need you readers to critize me as much as you can. Don't critize me if you don't mean it, but just try to find things I can improve on. I can't get any better if I don't know what I am doing wrong. So find every bad thing you can and tell me about it. I am trying my BEST to improve my stories and give all of you a better reading experience. ALSO I don't know when I can post my next chapter. I will try my best to get out ASAP. So now onto the chapter...
Draco and Hermione fell to the hard ground with a 'umph'. They found themselves in a very dark, damp place. Hermione shivered. Where was she and why was it so cold? She was still processing what had happened to them, as Draco began putting the pieces together.
He felt like he had been here before. In this room, this place. Where ever he was he felt like he had been here before. So familiar. So creepy. It just gave him the shivers. It was like a nightmare that had come true. He just wished that he could disappear from this strange place.
He seemed to know that musty scent from somewhere. Searching his memory he tried to remember where he had smelled that scent before. Then he began to think of all the characteristics of this place. The cold, the darkness, the musty scent, and the silence. His eyes widened. He knew where they were.
"Draco, where are we," He heard Hermione whisper barely loud enough for him to hear.
Draco swallowed the growing lump in his throat as he wondered how he should answer her. He didn't want her to panic though, but he also needed to prepare her.
"Voldermort's hideout," He whispered fearfully.
"Oh how observant of you Draco," came a cold voice that sent shivers down his back.
The whooshing sound of a wand waving was heard and the room was filled with a dim light coming from a few candles. Draco could see that the icy cold voice had come from the one and only, Voldermort. Who was sitting in a big chair that was made of some sort of dark wood and had swirls carved into it. It was very ornate and somewhat resembled a throne.
He was surrounded by figures wearing black robes and pure white masks. Death eaters.
Hermione was shaking with fear by then. Even though she was trying her best to hide it. Draco could see the fear in her eyes and he was positive that if he could see it then so could Voldermort. Voldermort could practically smell the fear that reeked off of those who were anywhere in his vicinity.
Draco's lump in his throat was getting bigger and bigger. What did they do to deserve to be here? He didn't need to be here and neither did Hermione. Too much had happened to them in their lives already.
"So you fell for a mudblood? You decided to betray your father. You planned to ruin your bloodline and give up any chance you had to be a death eater?" Voldermort spoke calmly even though Draco knew he was not calm at all. No he was very; very... well angry couldn't even describe him.
Draco could feel Voldermort's red snake eyes on him. Glaring at him with hatered and anger. As Voldermort knew nothing else. Nothing of love, nor happiness. He never learned how to feel that way. Draco didn't really know much about Voldermort's history, but it must not have been a good one. He probably had a bad childhood.
Those red eyes seemed to be made of fire. Made of hatred and created in anger. They seemed to burn through his very skin. Right into his soul. Filling him with even more fear. It was like a knife stabbing into him. Cutting out any courage he had. Poisoning his heart with fear.
"Well we will just have to fix your little mudblood problem," Voldermort said causing Draco and Hermione to look up in confusion.
What was he going to do? Was he going to hurt Hermione? Well of course they would never come out of there without being hurt. If they did manage to get out of there. Somehow they would have to get out.
Voldermort cackled and rose out of his chair. Slowly he walked over to where they sat on the cool floor. He seemed to slither when he walked. His pale white skin seemed to glow in the dim light. His eyes full of fire. His robes black as night and the words that escaped from his thin lips were like hisses.
"Oh you think I am going to tell you know and waste all of the fun? What kind of surprise is that?" He laughed a cold cackling laugh.
Draco's heart beat faster as Voldermort got closer and closer. Until Voldermort was standing above him looking down at him.
Voldermort smirked before waving his hand to motion for a few death eaters to do something. Before he could figure out what Voldermort wanted he was being dragged by some of the death eaters.
He tried to squirm, but found that a binding curse had been placed on him. He could hear Voldermort's cackling laughs growing fainter and fainter, as they were dragged further away from him.
It was then that he began to wonder how did he end up here too? It was Hermione that had touched the portkey. That silvery object that had glowed in the moonlight. It was her that had touched it. Not him. Then he began to think back. Kiss, walk, holding hands...
Holding hands! That must be it. When she reached down and touched the portkey she was still holding his hand.
He was shaken from his thoughts as he was thrown to the hard concrete floor. He let out a cry of shock and pain. He heard a squeaking noise as a door was shut. He looked around and saw that he and Hermione were both in separate cages that were made from thick steel bars. The cages were relatively small and they sat right next to each other.
Draco felt the binding curse removed as each cage door was locked securely. Then the death eaters left them.
Draco wondered how they would ever get out of there. It would probably be tomorrow before anyone saw that they were missing. Then it would take days or even weeks to find them. By then they were likely to be dead.
Wait a second! The death eaters had forgotten to take their wands. He reached into a small pocket that was hidden in the sleeve of his robes. He expected to find the wooden wand, but there was nothing in the pocket. Nothing at all.
He felt his heart sink. They were going to die after all.