A/N: Hello! Thanks for checking out my story. It's a Dramione story set towards the end of DH and follows Hermione and Draco's lives after Voldemort wins the final battle.
Disclaimer: All rights to J.K. Rowling for material used from Harry Potter in this and future chapters.
Chapter I – Dementors & Despair
The walls of Hermione's cell were damp and she could hear the rattling sound of dementors breathing nearby. She drew in a shallow breath, the effort tore through her chest and her muscles ached from the constant cold. She wore a threadbare jumpsuit that did little to protect her from the chill. Her face was chafed from lying on the stone floor of her cell. At some point, hours or days ago, she had fallen off her cot and could not summon the strength to lift her emaciated body from the floor.
A tray of water and bread had appeared, as always, just out of arms reach. Hermione dragged her arm across the floor managing to clasp her fingers around the dry chunk and brought it to her mouth. She gnawed on it slowly, her blinks becoming longer and longer as she battled unconsciousness. The dry bread caked in her already dry mouth, and she sucked on it longing for water. She exhaled another painful breath, and managed to pull herself to the goblet before her. She drank a sloppy mouthful, before her vision went blurry and she blacked out in earnest.
Hermione ran, pain shooting up her legs as she struggled to catch up to Harry and Ron. She shot a bat bogey hex at the Death Eater pursuing them, a string of curses told her that she had succeeded. Ron glanced back, Hermione saw his eyes widen and her brain registered his mouth forming the words 'look out' a moment too late. She felt the stone floor beneath her become slick and lost her footing. From the corner of her eye, she saw a purple flash emit from Ron's wand and the wall behind her exploded. She had only a moment's relief, as the rubble settled a rumbling sound echoed. Hermione eyes met Ron's panicked ones as he and Harry reached for her.
She screamed as the ceiling collapsed around her, and hastily protected herself with a shield charm. The corridor was completely caved in.
"Harry! Ron!" Hermione cried.
"Hermione!" They called back, their voices muffled by the rock.
"Are you both ok?" she asked, trying to find a space where the barrier was thinner.
"We're fine, did it hit you?" Ron asked. She could hear them trying to shift the rocks as they spoke.
"No, I'm fine," Hermione replied. She paused to take in her surroundings. She was on the fifth floor, and if she was right there should be a secret passage way nearby. "You two need to keep moving," she said through the mound of rubble, "it will take too long to move all of this, and Harry still needs to find Nagini. There is a secret passageway behind the portrait of Beaumont Marjoribanks."
"Who?" Harry asked.
"He discovered gillyweed, Harry, you really ought to remember him," she chided.
"Wait, the passage behind the bloke with the funny beard?" Ron asked. Hermione sighed in exasperation.
"Yes, I can get out from there and find you." Hermione heard them muttering. "I'll send you a patronus as soon as I can." They agreed at last, and Hermione backtracked to where the portrait hung, it was damaged from the explosion, but she managed to pry it open and slip through.
Hermione hurried along the passage, and exited into a crowded corridor. She dodged a red spark and tried to manoeuvre her way back in the direction of Harry and Ron. She jumped back, jostling a suit of armour, to avoid being trampled by a giant spider. She turned around to the armour she had hit, and did a complicated charm to animate it. He creaked to life and started tottering down the hall clearing a path in his wake. Hermione followed as closely behind as she dared until she had come upon a quieter corridor. She was just about to send a patronus to Harry and Ron, when a raspy voice distracted her.
"Mudblood," the cloaked figure behind her said. He lowered his hood, and Hermione recognized him from the Department of Mysteries.
"Avery," she said curtly, turning her wand on him.
"It must be my lucky day," he said, moving closer. Hermione backed up into the wall behind her, raising her wand ever so slightly. She did not know much about Avery, aside from his skill at worming his way out of sticky situations. She had also heard rumours about his sick sense of humour. "I never thought Potter would leave his precious Mudblood unprotected."
"I'm perfectly capable of protecting myself," Hermione spat, but his tone had sent a chill down her spine.
"Come now," he grinned at her, "if you were going to curse me, you would have done it already. That's the first rule of the game. Never hesitate. It let's your opponent know you're weak."
"Is that why you haven't struck me yet?" Hermione asked, drawing herself away from the wall. "You're too weak?"
The grin slid off his face and they began to circle each other. In the blink of an eye, he shot a spell at her. Hermione deflected it easily, and found herself laughing.
"A tripping jinx?" she asked. "Isn't that a little juvenile?" He snarled at her drawing his wand again, but Hermione was too quick. She used a conjunctive curse, making his eyes swell shut. He cursed angrily, rubbing his eyes with one hand, and shooting curses blindly with the other. Hermione dodged them, fleeing the hallway towards the Entrance Hall.
Nagini had last been seen with Voldemort near the forest. Likely that was where Harry and Ron were heading. She was about to send her patronus to them, but hesitated, it had taken her much longer than she had thought. They could be getting close to Voldemort or the snake. Sending them a patronus was much too risky.
Hermione increased her pace, dodging spells and bodies. Her eyes darted anywhere for signs of Harry, Ron, or Nagini. The only three things she cared about in that moment. She was getting closer to the forest when her foot got caught in something fleshy. Her breath hitched as she landed hard on her wrist. A broken sob beneath her told Hermione that the person she had landed on was still alive, for now at least. Hermione gasped when she got a better look at her.
She was a Ravenclaw, and by the looks of her in first year. Her face was pale, and her robes were soaked through with blood. Her eyes started to roll back and Hermione panicked for a moment.
"Stay with me," she whispered, cradling the girl's head. She pulled up the girl's robes finding a deep gouge in her stomach. Pulling out her wand, she murmured an incantation three times, watching as the blood cleared away and the wound began to knit itself up. Hermione could do no more for her without potions or dittany, so after glancing around she levitated her towards the castle. She would be much safer there than so close to the forest's edge.
"Hermione?" a voice whispered. Hermione peered around in the darkness for a moment, before she saw Neville. He was on the ground, and he sounded choked up. He was cradling someone in his arms, and as Hermione got closer, she saw a sheet of silvery blonde hair. Luna.
"Is she..." Hermione trailed off, not wanting to know the answer.
"She's alive," Neville croaked. "Her heart is beating and she's breathing. But she keeps gasping, and having these spasms. I don't know what they hit her with."
"Well, Madame Pomfrey will surely know what to do for her," Hermione said. She tried to sound confident, even when she didn't even know if Madame Pomfrey was still alive. "The best thing we can do is take her someplace safe." Neville agreed, and rose to his feet with Luna still cradled in his arms. He led the way, using his wand to light the way until they had reached the castle. They hadn't gotten very far, when they heard a large 'crack'. Hermione flinched, calming when she saw a house-elf appear.
"My name is Misty," the house-elf squeaked and bowed. "I is helping all the injured. Taking them out of the castle. Keeping them safe. Misty is trusty and a good healer." Misty said this all very quickly, as if she had said it many times already.
"You'll keep them safe?" Neville asked. "You can find out what's wrong with her?"
"Misty will do her very best," Misty promised. "But Misty must go now. There are many injured here tonight." Misty placed one hand on Luna and another on the first year Hermione had found, and with another crack, they had disappeared.
Hermione left the corridor, heading back outside with Neville behind her. "Where are you headed?" he asked.
"I need to find Harry and Ron," she said. They both stopped, as a shower of green sparks rained down over the castle.
"That can't be good," Neville said.
"It looks like it's coming from the courtyard," Hermione said. She was already moving towards it. She felt an unknown force pulling her in that direction. As they got closer, they were surrounded as everyone seemed to be drawn to the sparks.
"We are here tonight, because some of you questioned the Dark Lord's reign," Voldeomort's bodiless voice echoed throughout the courtyard. Hermione glanced at Neville uneasily as a hush fell over the assembled crowd. Voldemort appeared suddenly before them, standing upon a raised dias.
"You may believe that you are fighting for a better world or for the greater good,' he continued, ignoring the gasps and jeers at his sudden appearance, "but you are only delaying the inevitable. You put your faith in a boy with no remarkable talents, showing just how ill-advised your plans are. Tonight, your champion, Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, has failed you."
Hermione's heart was racing. Muttering had broken out, whispers of disbelief. It wasn't true. She would have known if...
"The Boy Who Lived, is nothing more than the Boy Who Died, like so many before him. But no more lives need to be lost. Many of you have proven to be brave and valiant fighters, worthy of my cause. Join me now and I will spare your lives. You will be forgiven for your sins and can devote yourselves to serving me and building a better world where magic is something that can be celebrated, not hidden..." His speech was cut short as disturbances began to break out. Death Eaters surged forward to stop them, but dissent spread quickly.
"Lies!"
"Prove it"
"We'll never fight for you!"
Hermione's heart was still pounding, she clutched Neville's hand, searching frantically though the crowd for any gap that could be Harry and Ron under the invisibility cloak. They must be there somewhere. She turned, frantically searching.
"You ask for proof?" Voldemort hissed, his mask of patience abandoning him. Then I will show you the evidence of your failure." He flicked his wand and Harry's invisibility cloak flew away to reveal his body, crumpled on the floor. Ron's red hair was visible next to him, face down on the cobblestones.
"NO!" Hermione screamed. She pushed her way forward, shoving people out of her way to get to them. She wasn't too late. They couldn't be...
Hermione kept pushing forward and was nearly trampled as the fight broke out again. She heard the pops of disapparition as people began to flee.
"Stop them," she heard Voldemort's voice command.
Hermione kept going, moving forward until she was finally close enough to see Harry's green eyes staring blankly at the sky, cold and glassy. Hermione collapsed. A buzzing filled her ears, as she stared in horror at her two best friends, cold and unmoving.
A cold swept over Hermione, colder than she had ever felt before. Coming to her senses, she realized Dementors were descending among them. She grasped her wand.
"Expecto patronum," he voice was a broken whisper. No happy thought would come. She saw nothing but the nightmare in front of her. "Expecto-" Hermione was cut off as her wand was kicked from her hands.
A Death Eater grabbed her roughly by the arms, and she struggled helplessly against him. He carried her towards Harry and Ron, and she screamed in grief and anger. She jerked her elbow back, almost freeing herself, before he twisted her arm back sharply, forcing her head up. The pain was excruciating, but the motion had forced her head upwards, and the last thing she saw was a pair of malicious red eyes.
Hermione awoke in her cell, her breaths coming fast and hard. This nightmare was her constant companion, but she never failed to wake up terrified and gasping for air. Harry and Ron's death haunted her. Day and night she relived that memory, helpless to stop it as she was on that fateful night. She had no way to mark the time, she could not even tell if months or years had passed since they had died. Most days she didn't care. She felt nothing but sorrow and grief for her best friends. Her parents haunted her too, sometimes she would dream of them, but they wouldn't see her no matter what she did. This was Hermione's excruciating reality. Her best friends were dead and her parents would never remember her. She had nothing left. Her only companions were dementors and despair.
Hermione was pulled away from her thoughts when another tray appeared by magic in her cell. There was no pattern to when their trays of food arrived, because that would have given them something to hope for. Instead, the food came at random. Sometimes it was edible, other times it was not. But two trays never came this closely in succession.
Hermione's curiosity was aroused, and she found the strength to raise her head. She managed to crawl towards the tray, and found it filled with more than food than she had received in the past week. The food was simple, but it looked edible. Hermione sensed a trap. The rusty cogs in her brain began to whir as she felt and sniffed at everything on the dish, but she could find no trace of poison. She lifted the goblet to her lips, after all what did she have to lose? The cold beverage was a balm to her parched throat. Pumpkin juice. Hermione could not recall the last time she had drank it, but it was cold and sweet and the best thing she had ever tasted. She was surprised when she lowered the goblet and found it empty. She turned to her plate, the bread was not rock hard and actually tasted ok if Hermione dipped it in the thin stew that had come along with it.
Eating had exhausted Hermione, but her brain felt almost revived. What caused this change? She could hear scraping sounds down her cell block and knew other prisoners had received the same meal. What could it mean? Hermione lay by the tray a few moments more, and then decided it was time she get up. She could not remember the last time she had stood, let alone walked or stretched. When Hermione had first arrived, she had cried for ages and refused to eat before realizing she was only harming herself. She thought that having structure would help her survive Azkaban. She had convinced herself that Harry and Ron had survived somehow and would come for her, so she had to be strong for them. She had eaten every scrap they had given her, and paced around her cell each day to stay active. It did not take her long to fall back into despair, when cold reality rushed back in. They were never coming for her.
Hermione pushed those thoughts away, and stumbled to her feet, clutching at the bars of her cell for support. Her legs shook under her meagre weight, but by balancing on the wall she managed to return to her cot where she promptly passed out.
More time passed. Hermione slept and woke in fits. Her usual nightmares came back. But a small part of her brain kept wondering about the pumpkin juice. Then one day she woke up to find a tray with bread, a ration of bacon, and even a mug of tea. The tea was mostly water, but it comforted Hermione nonetheless. After her second proper meal, Hermione knew something was coming. Though nothing changed within her cell, Hermione's nightmares still haunted her and she was still weak with cold and hunger. She realized that she was waiting for something.
She did not have long to wait. She was lying in her cot when she heard the whispering. Something, or rather someone, was coming. Hermione heard frightened voices as whoever it was entered her cell block. She moved closer to the bars and watched as two Death Eaters led a group of Hogwarts-aged girls towards the exit. The Death Eater at the end of the group stopped in front of Hermione's cell, and unlocked the door. Hermione anxiously pushed herself back into the wall behind her.
"Get in line," he said in a rough voice. Hermione hesitated before dragging herself off the wall and out of her cell. She had seen nothing but bars and these stone walls for so long, even the narrow hallway was a welcome sight.
"Where are you taking me," Hermione demanded. She tried to sound menacing and authoritative, but her voice came out as a croak. The Death Eater grabbed her arm and threw her bodily into line.
"You'll see," he answered. "And you'd best not speak unless spoken to, Mudblood." Hermione walked silently with the rest of the girls, struggling to keep up. Her thoughts were dark as she wondered what hell could await her that was worse than Azkaban.
As they exited the fortress, Hermione took in a deep breath of salty sea air, hoping it would clear the cobwebs from her muddled mind. Her brain felt as weak as the legs supporting her. Prison had worn her down physically and emotionally. She shuddered, though no dementor was near her now. She would have liked to believe that she had some hidden store of strength to cope with the depression that followed, but with the loss of Harry and Ron, Hermione had found rock bottom. She shivered as a cold breeze tore through her. The wind, and sea, and outside world had seemed so far away in her cell, but now that she was out she did not quite know what to do with herself.
Hermione followed the line of girls to the edge of the shore, all the while she kept an eye on the Death Eaters, as they stopped around a small pile of garbage. For a moment, thoughts of escape entered her mind, but she was weak and wandless, and beside that, where could she go? To her parents? She erased their memories and had no idea where they were now. The Weasleys? Professor McGonagall? The Order? Hermione did not even know who else had survived.
One of the Death Eaters pulled a tin can from the pile of rubbish, using the portkey they were taken to the outskirts of a village and led up a hill to a vast manor. A new prison, Hermione thought to herself. The gates opened before them and Hermione barely registered the ornate 'M' on them before they were ushered into Malfoy Manor.
Coming up in Waiting in the Shadows:
Draco had yet to recognize any of the prisoners, but now that he could he found himself feeling strangely uncomfortable with them serving in his home. Granger was thinner than he remembered her, and he thought he had seen a bruise beneath her eye. He wondered which of the Death Eaters she had angered.