Title: Dreams
Summary: Are they really just dreams? Or is Hermione really supposed to come to Malfoy Manor? What will happen if she does?
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.
Important: Everything in normal typing is Malfoy Manor, italic is Hogwarts.
A/N: For all of those that read "Outcast" there is a new R/Hr story up that I would love you to read...it's called True Serpent!
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The world around her started spinning and Hermione closed her eyes. Praying, hoping, wishing that she would be on time, and that somehow –even though they didn't have a plan– things would turn out to be alright. Landing on the floor of Malfoy Manor, she felt her breath stop momentarily. Only when she had looked around, seeing the empty room, did she dare to breathe again. Standing up, brushing her robes, she waited not-so-patiently for Harry and Ron to appear.
"Harry,"
Ron started hesitantly,
"Are you sure about this? What if this is all a trick? What if Malfoy was lying?"
Harry ruffled his hair, looking at his best friend.
"We don't have a choice. Hermione is our friend. We need to protect her."
He walked over to the fireplace, a little bit of floopowder in his hand. Looking back at Ron once again he smiled reassuringly.
"Things will be alright, as long as we've got each other. Let's go."
Where are they? What is taking them so long?
Fidgeting with her robes, Hermione contemplated going to the dungeons alone. What did her dreams say? She had been separated from her friends...was it just an accident or was this meant to be? Maybe if she went down, if she got herself captured...maybe her friends could rescue her.
Taking a deep breath she headed to the basement, trying to remember what Draco had told her about the Manor. She felt a chill running down her spine, her hand grabbing the cold handle of the door.
Please let them be alright. Please let him be alright.
"She's not here..."
Ron whispered incredulously, looking around the room.
"She must have gone down to the basement already. Guess she really loves him, huh?"
Harry smiled sympathetically, knowing the soft spot the redhead held for their smart friend. He saw Ron bite down on his lip, before heading out of the room.
"Draco..."
Draco shuddered, stepping forward as the Dark Lord had ordered him to. His eyes were cast downwards, as if he was trying to ignore the reality of this situation. He was praying to whatever power there might be that Hermione would be on time. That she would somehow be able to stop his transformation, even though she didn't love him. He felt tears stinging in his eyes but refused to show his weakness to his new Master.
"My Lord,"
he said, kneeling down at Voldemorts feet.
"Do you swear allegiance to your master young Malfoy?"
Draco nodded, unable to speak. He knew that his father was smirking at him, even though his back was faced to him. How could Hermione be too late? She had dreamt of this...had known what would happen. Did that mean she was afraid? She was right not to come...it would only mean her death.
"My Lord,"
a Death Eater ran in the room, a twisted smile on his face.
"The Mudblood is here."
Lord Voldemorts' eyes flashed red, and his slender fingers caressed the wand in his hand.
"Bring her to the room. She will be young Malfoy's first victim."