Chapter 8
There, her lips and his cruelly torn in two, were Hermione and himself. Their perfect kiss had been sundered, broken, and it was all Malfoy's fault.
With a growl he raised his eyes, shaking hair out of them, all his drunken anger and frustration over his and Hermione's break up focused into one purpose: Hurt Malfoy As Much As Possible. Clutching the torn images in his fist he roared and attacked Malfoy. He punched him and kicked him, scratching at his pale face and tearing at his pale hair.
At first Malfoy resisted, trying to placate Harry, push him away, hold him so he couldn't hit him. But then as Harry got more and more violent, Malfoy started to hit back. This only enraged Harry further, he punched Malfoy full in the face, felt things crack under his fist, felt blood run through his fingers. He brought his hand away and Malfoy was screaming.
Harry was so shocked he actually stopped hitting Malfoy. He got up from where he had been sitting on Malfoy, punching him. Malfoy was rolling around on the floor, writhing, clutching his bloodied face and head, blood running down his hands, through his hair, dying it a horrible rusty red.
And through the screams Harry could hear sounds. Not just sounds, words as well. Malfoy was whimpering? and, was he crying? He couldnt be. He had never known Malfoy cry, he just wasn't that sort of person. Harry couldnt tell, however, because the hands clasped across Malfoy's face covered his eyes. Malfoy was curled up in the corner now, still screaming.
Harry did not know whether to be thankful or annoyed that Snape had put a silencing charm on the room, so that no-one in the whole house could hear anything they said.
Another burst of mumbling, yelling from Malfoy. Harry leaned closer, trying to hear what Malfoy was saying.
---
"No! Father, please! Not again! I tried father, I tried!"
Draco crouched on the cold stone floor of the dungeon. Blood ran through his fingers, down the back of his hands, he could feel it spreading through his hair, warm and sticky and wet. He clutched his hands to his face where his father had hit him. His whole head was filled with pain, his mind overflowing with it. He screamed, long, high, wrecked with agony and grief. But through the darkness came the long pale fingers, so like his own, and in those fingers was held a wand made of black wood, and from the darkness came a voice, the voice which came from the darkness, was the darkness, symbolised everything that the darkness stood for in his life.
Crucio
The pain, which before had been centered in his head, in his eyes, was now everywhere, his very skin was made of thousands of tiny needles, being pushed into his flesh. He had suffered the cruciatus curse before, but that didnt make it any less agonising and breath-stealing.
He writhed on the floor, knowing the flagstones were pressing into his back but hardly being able to feel them underneath the raw, white-hot pain that was surrounding him, entering him, becoming him. With his last shred of sanity he sought in his mind a place where he might shelter from the onslaught of pain, and came across a small section which hadn't been looked at in a very long time. He entered the small enclosed space, and closed it off.
Silence. Draco couldnt feel the pain now, it was like a memory, vague and haunting. He had a strange feeling someone was watching him as he stood facing the door, panting.
Something moved, behind him.
He spun round.
There, standing with a long black cloak pulled over her hair was Granger. She wore the traditional robes of the Death Eater, black, hooded robes, heavy and musty. He faintly wondered why she wasn't wearing a mask, then noticed she held it in her left hand. In her right hand was her wand.
Suddenly, a conversation he had had a long long time ago with his father popped into his head.
-
"Father?" Draco had said. "Why do you wear masks?"
"Because, Draco, each of us, save for the Dark Lord himself, has seperate lives, seperate identities. If there were any witnesses, any sight caught of us on one of our...ventures" Lucius gave a wry smile "...then the whole of the world would be told. We would have nowhere safe, nowhere, do you understand?"
Draco nodded, and picked up his wand again. He and Lucius had been dueling, Lucius teaching him dark magic, and they had been having a break.
Then Lucius leaned in, smiling, showing his teeth like a crocodile that knows it is about to eat. "Do you know when the only time you will see a Death Eater without a mask?"
Draco shook his head.
Lucius bent down so that his mouth was right next to Draco's ear.
"When their face will be the last thing the person watching ever sees." Lucius whispered, and stunned Draco in the side of the head.
-
Draco remembered that conversation vividly now, as he looked at Hermione. He had always wondered what it would feel like to face death, and never, never thought he would be killed by a girl. Much less a Gryffindor. Much less a Gryffindor that could beat him in every class.
Even less that this Gryffindor girl who could beat him in every class would have such a sad expression in her eyes. Brown eyes. Chocolate brown eyes. Almost the same colour as her hair...
In front of him, Granger put her hood down.
Her hair glinted. Some invisible light was shining down on top of her, illuminating her hair. In the golden light like autumn sunlight her hair was a deep, honeycomb red. It hung around her face like something Draco couldnt describe. He had heard her complaining to Potter and Weasley that it was always a mess. It wasnt a mess now. It was not straight, and not curly, but something in beetween, wavy and soft-looking.
Granger tilted her face up, and the light became stronger. She closed her eyes, and her face seemed to glow. That was it, Draco realised, the reason no light was falling on her was becasue she was making the light. Her face radiated golden sunlight. A pool of light was beginning to grow around her, rippling over the cold flagstones, warming them. The line of brightness was nearing Draco. He pushed himself backwards, away from the light and warmth. His back hit the wall but the brightness kept on coming. It was nearing him, it was going to touch him...
Then it stopped. The wall of light simply halted about an inch from his toes. He looked up and saw Granger still standing in the middle of the light, head turned upwards, eyes closed.
He looked down again, being unable to stand that brightness for long. He bacame aware that he was shaking, his whole body was aching to step forward, to just move his foot forward ever so slightly, to step into the light, to escape the darkness.
But something in him held it back. Some inner strength commanded his body to stay still, and still it did remain. And so the struggle went on, his body and a sizeable part of his mind fighting to go forward, the rest of his mind solidly refusing. This was the dark part of his mind, the part that had taken the pain of Lucius' many punishments, the part of himself Draco wished he could escape from, yet the part that was such an integral piece of him that he couldn't imagine ever being without it. This was the part that made the clever plans, the bit that got him out of trouble, the piece that made him the ice-prince of Slytherin, unchallened leader of Hogwarts' darkest house. This part made people obey him, respect him, and he suspected this was the part that made him irrististable to anyone he wanted.
It was stronger than the rest of his mind and his body together. He stayed still.
Then he chanced another look up. What he saw shocked him. Granger had her head down again. She was looking at him. Well, not technically looking. You couldn't look at someone through closed eyelids.
Or could you? Draco had the strangest feeling that even though Granger's eyes were closed, she could see him. Sense his presence. This suspicion was confirmed when Granger lifted up her wand, and pointed it straight at Draco's heart.
Draco swallowed. This was it. The final moment. He knew he ought to be scared, have some final heroic thought, maybe simply keep his eyes on the wand, at least.
But no. He simply felt sad. Sad that he had not stepped forward into the light when he had had the chance. His only thought was that Lucius would have been disgusted at the way his son was about to die. He could almost hear his father's voice in his head.
"Draco! Draco Malfoy, listen to me!"
But Draco ignored the voice. What was the point. He was going to die anyway. He didn't seem to want to look at the wand either. His whole attention was focused on Granger's face, her high cheekbones, her pink lips, her beautiful lashes. He had to admit, she really was beautiful. Pity she was going to be the last thing he ever saw, he would never have a chance to tell her.
As if able to hear his thoughts, Granger stirred. Then she opened her eyes.
If was eerie. As if the world was centered on those eyes, like black holes, they sucked in the world. Draco felt himself falling forward. Granger was coming up, her face and eyes becoming more and more detailed every second. He noticed she had freckles on the bridge of her nose. He saw the way every eyelash stood up, erect.
Them he looked into Granger's eyes. At the center of each of them, at the center of the black rings, edged in chocolate, was a tiny flame. It was flickering and dancing, but it looked slightly strange. Then Draco realised. The flame was coming out of Granger's eyes. He was seeing it as if on top.
Granger's eyes were becoming bigger and bigger. Granger opened her mouth and called his name.
"Draco Malfoy!"
Granger's eyes widened, the flame grew, all he could see was chocolate rings, black holes and dancing flames. Granger's eyes filled his vision. He reached out for the flame.
The edge of the fire touched him, and he fell into Hermione's eyes.
---
Harry slapped the flames away from Draco, and tried shouting again. "Malfoy! Draco Malfoy, can you hear me?" It was no use. Malfoy wasn't responding. Harry propped Malfoy up against a wall and dodged a bit of burning wallpaper. He caught his breath and surveyed the room.
He had to admit, the room didn't look much like it had an hour ago. He had realised something was wrong when something hot had hit him in the back when he was shouting at Malfoy to wake up. He had turned around and been greeted by a rather disturbing sight. The ceiling had been on fire.
He had stared for quite a while, trying to come to terms with this new development. Then he tried to work out what had happened. It had occured to him that one of the bottles he and Malfoy had smashed on the lampshade. He supposed some must have gotten on the light bulb too, because that would have made the Firewhiskey get hot enough to burn, which had ignited the Firewhiskey covered lampshade, which had flared, setting fire to the Firewhiskey splattered ceiling.
At this point he had resumed trying to wake up Malfoy, but with more fervour than before. He had tried hitting him, kicking him, pulling his hair, dousing him with more Firewhiskey, which he had then thought to be a very stupid idea, and had wiped what he hoped was most of it off. Unfortunately he had wiped it off with the sleeves of his clothes. Not that he and Malfoy hadn't been soaked with Firewhiskey before.
So now they were trapped in a small room that wouldn't unlock for another few hours, wearing highly flammable clothing, unable to magic the fire away, keep themselves cool or do anything about the fire. The only thing they could do was panic, and Malfoy couldnt even do that, being as how he was unconscious. So now Harry was trying as hard as physically possible to wake up Malfoy, so that he could have someone to panic with.
He was wondering whether he should hit Malfoy over the head with a book, and just as he was realising that all his books had now been burnt to cinders along with the rest of his stuff, Harry heard a groan.
Malfoy was stirring. Harry took hold of the other boy's shoulders and shook him.
"Malfoy. Wake up. Now. I...I need your help."
"The Great Potter, Saviour of the Wizarding World, The-Boy-Who-Lived, needs me, a petty, evil Slytherin to help him?" Malfoy croaked, smirking even with his eyes closed.
"Yes, Malfoy. I. Need. Your. Help."
"Why?"
"Because the room is on fire."
Malfoy opened his eyes. They were bloodshot, red rimmed, his eyelashes encrusted with dried blood. He stared around the room, eyes widening, mouth dropping open, taking in the burning Firewhiskey and the locked door, then his eyes strayed to the ceiling above Harry's head.
"Look out!" He cried. Harry, having seen lots and lots of action movies when he was younger, Dudley having had a passion for them, spun to the side and then looked up to see what had fallen.
Exactly where he had just moved from, sitting there smouldering in front of a shocked Malfoy, was a large chunk of the ceiling. A spark fell off of it and onto the floor, igniting the carpet. Malfoy yelled and jumped up, swaying slightly. He and Harry backed away from the growing patch of flames. The fire ate up the carpet, creeping towards their feet.
---
Draco watched the fire approach, felt Potter tense at his side. The fire was playing tricks on his eyes, the smoke from the burned ceiling was curling, arranging itself into a figure. For a single moment, Draco thought he saw someone in the fire beckon, then the smoke was gone again, unfurling grey tendrils.
His feet began to feel hot. Draco looked down, and saw the fire near his feet. Suddenly he knew what he had to do. He turned to Potter, grinned...
...and stepped forward, into the fire.
---
About an hour earlier...
Ginny opened her eyes. There was blackness looming above her, and a figure in the blackness, who was slightly blacker than the rest of the black.
"Ginny! Are you awake?" Brie said, quietly.
"Yes, Brie, I am now." Ginny mumbled. "What's wrong?"
"Ginny, zere eez somewune outsaide our door. Eet sounds laike Gabbrielle." Ginny noticed Brie sounded worried.
"Let her in." Ginny sat up and watched the half-shape that was Brie go over to the door and open it slightly to talk to Gabrielle. Ginny heard mutters and whispers, then some more footsteps and both Brie and Gabrielle were standing next to her bed.
"Gabby 'ere sais zat zere is somesing wrong wiz ze ground floor. Am ay right?"
"Yes, you are correct." Gabrielle said, breathless. "The ground floor is really hot, I mean, boiling hot, and the heat seems to be coming from the basement floors.
"Ah, well, eet eez probablee those boys mayking lots of spells, yes?" Brie said.
"Well, no, I dont think it can be, because, do you remember, Snape put a charm on the house so that no magic could be done by any of us here." Gabrielle explained.
"What could be making the heat then?" Ginny wondered out loud.
"Well," Gabrielle said, worriedly, "the only thing I could think of was a fire."
"A fire?" Ginny said. "Why would there be fire downstairs?"
"I don't know, thats just it." Gabrielle said. She was starting to make Ginny worried now as well.
"Wait...no...they're not dumb enough..." Ginny said.
She was remembering the last fire she'd been in, at the Burrow, after Fred and George had made a really good deal at their shop, they had stayed up all night, getting drunk on Firewhiskey. In the morning they had thrown all of the half drunk ones onto the fireplace, and lit them, to see it they would go bang (they were in that sort of mood) and had set fire to half their room. The fire had been put out pretty quickly once Mum and Dad had attacked it with water, but Fred and George had had to sleep outside for the whole of the rest of their stay. It had taught Ginny one thing though. Firewhiskey was way more flammable than anyone gave it credit for. They had even started putting warnings on the bottles about its flammability but even that didn't dissuade people.
"Firewhiskey..." She murmured, and Brie looked up, horrified.
"Zey wouldn't do zat. Would zey?" She looked extremely worried.
"Only one way to find out." Ginny said, brazenly. She slid out of bed, put on her fluffy green slippers and led Gabrielle and Brie out of the room.
They made their way down stairs. As Ginny descended she could feel the heat rising, she could feel her nightgown starting to stick to her back with sweat, and as she reached the ground floor, she brushed a damp lock of hair out of her eyes.
She went down the hallway and opened the front door. The muggle night greeted her with its bush rustlings and distant dogs barking. She walked round the garden, past the spot where she and Brie had been gardening earlier to the side alley, round the side of the house, on which the window of the basement was situated.
She saw as she turned the corner. The window had been smashed, shards of glass littered the concrete around the window. A flame flew out of the open hole.
"Harry!" She cried, and rushed forward, followed by Gabrielle and Brie. They stopped about three feet from the hole, the heat was almost unbearable, and besides, another tongue of flame could emerge at any moment. But she could just see inside the room.
Malfoy was sprawled, obviously unconsious next to one of the beds. His face and hair was covered in blood, which looked like it was still drying. Harry was knelt next to him, shaking him, and she could hear faint yelling, which must have been Harry shouting at Malfoy to wake up. But the roar of the fire was overwhelming. She saw Harry's glasses slip down his nose, him push them back up again, only to have the fall down. His face was a mask of sweat.
"Harry! Harry! HARRY! HARRY!" She screamed, but he could not hear her.
"Brie, wait here. Watch them, then come and get us if anything happens. Gabby, come on, we've got to go wake the boys." She and Gabrielle sprinted back inside, ran down the hallway and hammered on the door of Ron and Zabini's room.
"Ron! Ron! Come quick!" Ginny heard a sound like someone falling out of bed inside the room, some weary footsteps, they a blearly eyed Ron opened the door.
"Wassup Gin'. Its hot enough inside, dont make me walk as well!"
"Shush!" Ginny shrieked, and she hit Ron round the face.
"What was that for?" He said, angry but more awake now.
"Harry and Malfoy are trapped in the basement rooms and there is a fire down there!" Ginny shrieked again. She saw Zabini appear behind Ron's back. They both looked shocked as this hit them.
"Oh Merlin." Ron said, and rushed back into the room, slipping on his shoes. Ginny saw Zabini do the same, only he also grabbed a shirt. The four of them ran up the stairs, Gabrielle and Zabini stopping on floor 1, Ginny and Ron heading up to floor 2. Ginny knocked on Pansy and Persia's room, and after a few moments a sleepy Persia opened the door.
"What..." She began, but Ginny cut her off.
"Harry and Malfoy are down in the basement, and their room is on fire." She said, breathlessly. Persia looked horrified as this sunk in, and she flung the door open. She saw Persia run over to Pansy's bed and whisper something to her, then Pansy was getting up too.
She heard Ron choke behind her and turned around, to see him turn extremely red and look away. She looked round again and saw that Pansy was wearing a lacy red and black nightdress thing, which was very good at advertising the fact that Pansy had nothing else on.
Pansy and Persia both threw long dressing gowns around themselves. Pansy's was pink, Persia's purple. They all hurrried downstairs where they found Crabbe and Goyle, who were wearing shorts and old t-shirts, Ciel and Ranger, who were wearing some strange french looking silk pyjamas, and Gabrielle and Zabini, who were just finishing explaining what was going on.
As a group they hurried down the stairs to the ground floor. At the bottom of the stairs they paused, as those who had not realised about the heat fanned themselves. Then Ron spoke up.
"I'm going to try and force the door." He announced, and started towards the basement staircase.
"That's dumb. The door will have been magically locked. You won't be able to force it open, only Snape can do that." Zabini said, sounding almost smug.
"So?" Ron said, showing true Gryffindor stubborness. "I can still try, can't I? I'd rather be doing something that nothing. And may I remind you that it's your friend down there too, if Slytherin's even have friends." Ron added with contempt. Zabini looked outraged, then realised what Ron had meant and followed Ron down the stairs, where they started pulling and pushing at the door together, very obviously not getting anywhere but not wanting to be the first one to 'give up' on their friend.
Ginny sighed. "I'll go and get Brie." She hurried round the side of the house to find Brie still waiting. She brought her back just in time to hear Ranger say:
"You guys do know that if you actually manage to open the door, which, I might remind you, is magically impossible anyway, but if you did, the pressure you would remove from the ceiling would be enough to bring it crashing down, quite possibly on the heads of your dear friends." He said it matter-of-factly, as if it would make no difference to him whether Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy died, but was just making sure that they knew the facts before they did something which he considered extremely stupid.
Ron growled at Ranger's comment and stopped trying to bash the door down.
"I know what to do." Gabrielle said, grimly. "We're gonna have to call Snape. He can apparate here and he'll open the door and get them out. Or he'll at least know what to do." There was a general affirmative mumbling, no-one really wanted to get Snape in, he would probably do something horrendous like send them home, but it was that or lose Draco and Harry.
They all made their way out to the garden. Once they were clear of the house boundaries, they all stood in a circle.
"You do realise we are gonna get in so much trouble from the Statute of Secrecy for this, don't you." Ginny sighed.
"Ginny! I thought you cared about Harry! Come on, we've got to do this. They usually let you off if it's an emergency anyway." Ron said.
They all put their wands together, touching in the middle. Then Gabrielle said "Ok. On the count of three. One. Two. Thr..."
"STOP!" A shout from behind made them turn around. Emerging, coughing and soot-covered, were Harry and Malfoy. Ginny noticed that they had no shoes on, but that their feet were caked in what could have been oil, dirt or soot. There was blood and ash in Malfoy's hair and Harry's glasses were so encrusted with grime it was a wonder he could see anything.
Harry was the one who had shouted. He was half-dragging Malfoy, who appeared to be almost un-conscious.
"Harry!" Ginny cried, and rushed forward to hug him. She was much smaller than him now, but he fitted quite nicely over the top of her head.
"Draco!" Pansy cried, in a silly girly imitation of Ginny. Ginny turned around and glared at her. She glared back.
Blaise walked over to Malfoy and said "Welcome back, man." like Malfoy had been on holiday or something.
Then the group split in two, Ron, Ginny, Gabrielle and Brie gathering round Harry, hugging him and dusting him off, while Malfoy got 'welcomed' or whatever it was the Slytherins were doing. They were still hugging when over the fading roar of the fire they heard a scream. It came from the third floor of the house. They all looked up.
Hermione was hanging out of the open window. She was still dressed in her warm clothes, her hair was messed up and her eyes were unfocused. She seemed to be trying to...climb out of the window.
"Herm! No!" Harry yelled, running towards her as she wobbled on the tiny window ledge. She put up her hands to wipe her eyes clean...and fell.
"NOOO!" Harry bellowed, and put his arms out to catch her. But someone was already there. Someone had moved there as soon as they had looked up, and Hermione fell down, down, down...
Right into Draco Malfoy's arms.
---
