AN: My sincerest apologies for the delay. It has been an absolutely crazy week here.
Chapter 7
Blood and screams
Hermione's breath catches in her throat as the wind whips harshly around them and she instinctively pulls her wand, the now lit tip piercing the darkness that surrounds them. The room falls eerily silent as the wind stills instantly. "Harry?" She turns toward where her friend had been previously to find him with his wand likewise extended before him.
"Still here," he responds, moving to stand next to her, the heels of his dragonhide boots silent on the stone floor. "What do you suppose that was?"
"Who knows," Hermione glances around the room, Draco's shirt now lay in a pile on the floor, tapers have fallen over on the shelves from the force of the wind that had rushed through. "It came from the dungeons." She turns toward the darkened doorway, inching slowly forward. "Malfoy?" she calls out, glancing into the darkened dungeons he had disappeared into. When she is met with silence she takes a step forward only to feel Harry's arm pulling her back.
"Where do you think you're going?"
"To see what's happened."
"I'm not letting you down there," Harry whispers harshly, his grip tightening on her arm.
Hermione yanks her arm away, glaring up at her friend. "You are not my keeper, Harry."
"I bloody well know that, Hermione," he responds, "we've no idea what's going on here. I'm not letting you wander off in the dark in Malfoy Manor of all places."
"We've handled way worse than a few angry ghosts, Harry. Besides, I said that I would investigate what was going on here and I intend to do that. What better way than to witness the spirits in person?" Without waiting for his response she turns and walks down the corridor. The soft sound of Harry mumbling under her breath immediately behind her causes a small smile on her face as Harry follows behind. "Malfoy?" she questions softly as she approaches his still form. "Malfoy what's happening?"
His figure doesn't move though he whispers back, "They're coming."
"They? The spirits?"
His head turns and she can see him in profile as he glances back at her. "You need to leave."
"Make me, Malfoy."
He turns to look back at the far wall as a pale mist begins to form. "You need to get her out of here, Potter."
"We're not leaving," she reiterates, narrowing her eyes at the man before her.
"If you need to see what happens, I will allow you to view my memories tomorrow afternoon, but you need to leave now."
"While I will also like to see those, I believe I can learn more from first hand experience." She can feel Harry standing behind her and crosses her arms defiantly. "We're not going anywhere Malfoy. Just tell me what's happening."
"I fucking told you what's happening, Granger," Draco exclaims, finally turning toward her and dropping his calm demeanor. "They're coming and I will not be held responsible for you getting hurt down here."
The almost wild look in his eyes gives her a moment's pause before she pulls herself to her full height and replies, "We are perfectly capable of taking care of ourselves, Malfoy. I absolve you from all responsibility for our persons." She glances over his shoulder at the now fully formed figure floating toward them. "Who is she?"
He glares down at her, his mouth tightening into a thin line. "I've no idea," he responds after a moment. "She's always here."
"Malfoy."
The whisper appears to come from the figure and Draco's eyes widen as he turns his eyes toward Harry behind her. "You have to leave." When Harry doesn't answer he continues, "You can't save everyone, Potter. Get out of here."
"Malfoy."
The whisper is louder now, more demanding. Draco turns his head to look behind him only to find the woman standing directly behind him. His arm is yanked backward, forcing him to turn toward her fully. "Your fault."
Hermione jumps back slightly, bumping into Harry as Draco is pulled farther down the row of cells. Hermione glances left and right as several more spirits appear within the cells. Lines of men and women, some in robes and several in muggle garb glance at the two of them and almost immediately turn their attention to the two figures at the end of the hall. Hermione's eyes follow their line of sight and land back on the pair.
Draco, now facing their direction, his back against the wall, has his head bowed, eyes closed as he whispers something unintelligible over and over. A trail of red runs from the corner of his eye down his cheek. She takes a cautious step forward, only to be pulled back. She glances up at Harry and finds him watching the cells to their left. Turning to see what had caught his attention, she sees the figures slowly emerging from the cells, their eyes still on the man at the end of the corridor. She attempts to shake Harry off only to have him tighten his grip. "We have to do something, Harry." The angry words of the female ghost continue, now joined by several others. "Harry, this isn't normal."
"What do you plan to do about it, Hermione?" He questions, his eyes returning to that of his former rival. "Plan to take his place, do you?"
"Of course not."
"Then stay out of the way. He's survived this multiple times before. Pay attention. Study the spirits; their movements, their words. There has to be a clue as to why this has suddenly started after so long. Keep your head, Hermione."
His voice is soft yet stern and she nods, her eyes flitting across the faces of the spirits around the room. "They look like normal people. I suspect a mix of muggles and wizards by their attire."
"Probably the people kept in the cells during the war."
"The woman called him by name but he says he doesn't know who she is. Harry, take a good look at their faces. I want to have the memory to use to compare with those we know were lost during the war. Maybe for the Muggles, we can research missing persons reports from the same time period." Harry nods his eyes darting around the room. She trusts him to be able to use his training to pick out details that could prove beneficial toward identifying each person. "It's obvious that they are intelligent apparitions. Do you think they could hear us?" Without waiting for a reply she gently removes her arm from Harry's grip and approaches the nearby group quietly. "Who are you?" she gently asks.
A nearby woman turns toward her, eyes surveying her silently, before she opens her mouth in a blood curdling scream. Hermione's hands instinctively fly to her ears to block out the sudden noise as other voices begin to join the first. "Maybe we don't talk to the angry ghosts," Harry hollers at her over the noise.
As Hermione watches, silvery blood begins to bubble past the woman's lips as she screams, running down the front of her blouse. The woman turns and continues to approach the end of the hall, Hermione retreats back to Harry's side. They watch as each of the spirits begins to scream, each beginning to show different signs of injury. A pained scream pulls her attention back to the man now surrounded by the faintly shimmering apparitions, her eyes widening as he hands fly to cover her mouth in surprise. His undershirt is torn, blood seeping freely from several wounds on his torso and arms. The woman she had spoken to approaches him and, as her hands fall on his shoulder, he begins to cough heavily, blood spattering across his lips before running freely down his chin.
His eyes fly open, pained orbs catching Hermione's. A light breeze floats past her as Harry rushes forward, no longer able to feign indifference, and she immediately follows. "Malfoy," she hears him call out before he disappears into the, now glowing, forms that stand between them and the injured man. Her eyes lock back onto Draco's and she freezes in place at the plea she sees there. Her eyes fall to his lips and, as he continues to repeat the same words over and over, she feels her eyes fill with tears.
A flash of dark hair draws her eyes as Harry stops next to Draco and she releases a sigh of relief at seeing him unharmed. He grabs Draco's arm, stepping so he is half blocking him from everything around him, the moment he does so the white spirit, raises her free arm, the one not currently holding Draco to the wall, and reaches out toward Harry, her hand passing directly through him. His eyes widen as he freezes in place, his eyes locked on the form before him. Hermione can see her lips moving as she speaks to him but cannot make out any of the words from her vantage point.
She rushes forward, intent on helping her friend pull the injured man away. As she reaches the edge of the horde of angry spirits, she feels herself pushed backward as another large gale rushes through the room once more. The light of the spirits grows intense causing her to shield her eyes. "Harry," she calls out squinting into the bright light before her, her voice lost in the cacophony. She feels her hair whip around her face hard enough to sting as she begins to move slowly forward against the rushing winds.
The screams rise to a fevered pitch as she approaches, the wind raising hard enough to push her nearly off her feet. "Harry," she calls once more as she reaches the edge of the light and begins to push her way through. The light flashes bright enough to blind her and she is forced to stop and cover her eyes.
The screams and wind cease, her hair falling limply about her shoulders once more. She lowers her arms, pausing momentarily to determine whether it would begin again. She opens her eyes to the pitch black of the dungeon corridor. The sudden silence is almost disorienting after her ears had adjusted to the noise just moments before. Raising her wand, she quickly lights it and aims it in the direction the men had been. "Harry!" she exclaims, rushing forward and dropping down beside her prone friend where he lay slumped beside the bars.
"Bloody hell," he groans, raising his hand to his forehead.
"Harry, are you alright?"
"I'm fine, Hermione. Just hit my head on the bars when the wind picked up and threw me sideways." He sits up slowly before pulling his hand away, staring at his now bloodied fingers for a moment before returning his hand to his forehead. "Where's Malfoy?"
Hermione straightens, turning to look behind her at the form that lay across the floor against the wall. His legs are bent and his arms lay limply before him. A rapidly spreading pool of blood covers the floor around him. "Malfoy," she calls out, quickly moving to his side. Shaking his shoulder gently before placing his fingers at his throat. "He's unconscious," she states. "Harry, come help me." Raising her wand, she quickly begins running the few diagnostic spells she had taught herself during the war in an attempt to ascertain what damage had been done.
A small pop echoes in the hall behind her causing her and Harry to turn sharply at the sound. "Cibney."
The small elf lets out a soft sob as she rushes forward and looks down at the still form before her. "Oh Master Draco, sir," she whispers, brushing the bloodied fringe from his forehead. "Cibney will be having you all to rights." She turns to look at the pair beside her. "We must be cleaning him up before we is bringing him back to his rooms. Mistress will be most upset if she is being seeing him in such a state."
"Does he always wind up like this afterward," Hermione asks as she immediately begins using her wand to clear away the blood.
"Didn't used to be doing so," is the elf's reply as she begins to set the room back to rights. "Lately it is being getting worse every time. They is being harder to heal now too. We is having potions ready in Master Draco's chambers. Once we is having him cleaned up Cibney will take us there."
"You have been relying on potions alone?" Harry cuts in, pocketing his wand after cleaning his own blood off of his face and hands.
"Elf magic is doing many things but elf magic is not being healing magic."
"What about Mrs. Malfoy? Is there nothing else she can do?"
"What is Mistress supposed to being doing that she is not?" Cibney turns to glare at him as she speaks. "Cibney is taking Master now. Master is needing his potions."
She lays her hand gently on Draco's shoulder. "Wait," Hermione exclaims before the small elf can vanish. Cibney pauses, looking at her curiously. "I can help. I'm not a healer but I've taught myself a few spells. They won't be much but they can at least ensure he won't have any scarring and perhaps help to speed the effects of the potions." Cibney nods, reaching out with her other hand for the woman and, turning one final glare in Harry's direction, disappears with a pop leaving him alone in the dungeons.
AN: This chapter was a lot harder for me than I originally thought it would be but I am content with the way it turned out. As always reviews are always appreciated!