Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling.
Chapter 3
"I shouldn't have said anything. This is a bad idea."
They crept down the corridor, Hermione a step behind him. She had one hand clutched over her breastbone, while the other gripped her wand.
"Yes," he muttered. "But it's the only one we've got."
As they reached the end of the carriage, she waved her wand over them. Draco glimpsed her over his shoulder.
She blinked. "Invisibility charm and a Muffliato," she stated matter-of-factly.
His eyebrow inched up his forehead.
"Just because magic is useless against it doesn't mean we can't use magic on ourselves." She shrugged one shoulder. "Plus, it's better if no one else sees us. Who knows what the hellhound will do if others get in its way."
"Right," he whispered, turning back to the door and easing it open. They crossed to the next carriage, the passage thankfully deserted. "Do you think it shook off your Stupefy by now?"
"It did."
Draco paused mid-step. Slowly, he faced her, his grey eyes narrowed. "How do you know?"
She pressed her knuckles harder against her chest, her lips contorted in pain. "Because I can feel it. It feels just like...him."
18 June 1996
The world around her was unfocused. Blurred around the edges and framed in black as she swam in and out of consciousness. A purple jet of light struck her, that's the last thing she remembered. They'd been running through the Department of Mysteries. The Order showed up. Spells were everywhere. Dolohov approached her with a menacing growl, lifted his wand — she silenced him. And then she was laid out flat on the ground. She probably hit her head, too. Someone needed to heal her and quickly. Hermione tried to call out for help, but no words would come to her lips. She watched her peripheral vision disappear and could only hear the shouts and spell casting as it went on around her.
Her insides burned. Someone set a fire inside of her, internal organs charred as the spell blazed its way through her body. She wanted to cry, but she was dried out. Harry would save her, he always did. She waited for what felt like an eternity and nothing. No Harry, no healer, no hope. She closed her eyes and faded out again.
"You are going to die."
Hermione's eyes snapped open. The voice was right above her and yet, no one was there. She opened her mouth to ask who was there, but couldn't speak.
"Your brain is dying. How ironic…"
She forced her head to turn. No one. Exhaustion crept into the fringe of her mind. Just go to sleep, Hermione, she told herself.
"If you fall asleep, you will die quicker."
She whimpered and barely registered that there was no spellfire, no shouting, or scuffling feet. They'd forgotten her and she was going to die in the bowels of the Ministry — cold and alone.
"It doesn't have to be this way, Hermione Granger."
Her muscles were taut as she tried to lift herself. She failed and rolled onto her side. A sharp stab tore at her body from hip to shoulder. God, she wanted it to stop. Her cry echoed through the cement room she was trapped in.
"I can save you."
Hermione's eyes squeezed shut. Her throat was on fire. Her nerves lit up like they had been separated from her body with a blunt knife. A sharp breath blew snot out of her nose. When she dragged in a ragged breath, it rattled like death was right around the corner.
"I can spare your life."
Oh, God, please… she pleaded silently. Something pressed on top of her. Her eyes snapped open and a shadow loomed over top of her. It was menacing even in its abstract darkness. It was not corporeal, or perhaps she was imagining it altogether. Her thoughts weren't coherent as she tried to flex her fingers to reach up and touch the space it occupied above her.
"You have to say the words out loud."
She didn't know what words it wanted her to say. All she knew was that she wanted this pain — this torturous death — to end. Her toes curled. A muscle spasm forced her body to coil. A raw scream fell from her lips and it was the first noise she'd been able to make. Tears soaked her cheeks and she was sure that if she'd eaten anything that day, she'd be lying in a puddle of her own vomit.
"Let me save you, Hermione Granger."
She faded out again, the black spots in her vision engulfed every thought in her head. When she came to, the voice laughed in her ears.
"You have less than a minute."
Pain shot through her from head to toe. The site of the spell that hit her erupted with agonizing pain. She eased out of it again. In and out, in quick succession.
"Do we have a deal?"
She whimpered. Yes. God, please make it s-stop.
"You must speak the words!"
She wasn't sure how long it was before she came to. She stretched her body and sat up, Hermione's head spun and she squeezed her eyes closed. Bloody hell, she'd nearly died. Whatever curse Dolohov used was wretched. There was a stinging sensation in the center of her sternum. She tugged at the fabric lying over it and then pulled it down to look.
Hermione gasped. Three jagged lines, horizontal from each other and stacked a finger's distance apart, stared back at her. She pressed her fingers to the marks – which looked as if sharp fingernails had been scratched against her chest – and the pink scars were iron hot to the touch.
"Hermione?"
Neville's face popped into the room from behind a thick door. Hermione jumped and dropped her shirt back into place. The markings stung but as she pushed herself from the floor to join Neville, Hermione shoved the thoughts from her mind.
Clearly, she was still hallucinating from Dolohov's spell.
"Draco," Hermione hissed as they entered the carriage where the creature attacked. "It's near." Her breathing became ragged.
He reached his right hand behind him, fingers unfurling. She grasped it, her hand cold and clammy. He gave it a reassuring squeeze. "We've got this, Granger. All you've got to do is knock the bastard off his feet, and then I'll take care of the rest."
Hermione huffed a mirthless laugh. "Sure. You'll just wrap your hands around the mythical monster's neck and strangle it unconscious or—and this is a slim chance—kill it. Easy."
"Are you saying I'm not as good as Hercules?"
She scoffed at his feeble attempt at a joke. "I know you think you're a god…" she murmured.
Draco sighed. "Well, it's this, or I let it drag me to Hell." He turned on his heel, studying her. There was fear in the set of her lips, worry in the furrow of her brows, but in her eyes…
Guilt.
"Granger," he said softly. "You don't have to do this. This isn't your fight."
She winced as though he struck her. "You know it is," she whispered. She rubbed a fist over her chest. "It wouldn't be coming after you if it weren't for me."
After glancing over his shoulder to make sure the corridor was clear, he took her other hand. "You did what you had to do. And so did I." His gaze fell to their clasped hands; he rubbed her knuckles with his thumbs. "Granger, I—"
He heard the rumbling growl behind him a split second before Hermione pulled him forward. In the next blink, she shoved him behind her, pointing her wand down the corridor.
"Where?" He scanned the passage. The storm had rolled on top of them, blanketing them in shadows. Thunder clapped overhead, nearly drowning out his words. "Where is it?"
"Lumos Maxima!" Light flew from the tip of Hermione's wand, illuminating the entire corridor—
Except for the dark mass skulking towards them.
"Impedimenta!" she screamed, her wand steady and level before her. "Filipendo! Stupefy! "
The creature darted out of the way, bouncing off the wall with its powerful hind legs. It ran straight for them.
Draco took a determined step forward. "Reducto! Confringo! "
Blue light shot into the center of its mass. It staggered against a door with a heavy thump.
"Go!" Hermione yelled.
Draco ran for the lurching creature. He jumped up, planting a heel on the handrail, and launched onto its back. His fingers gripped fur as dark as night as he climbed.
Hermione aimed for the hellhound's legs. " Incarcerous! "
Its legs buckled as ropes wrapped around it; and then it fell against a compartment wall.
A door squeaked open, and a third year poked his head out, confusion written on his face. With a flicker of her wand, Hermione knocked him back into the compartment and locked the door. She waved her arm along the corridor, securing all the locks in the carriage to make sure no one else came out.
"Granger!" Draco dangled from the hellhound's neck as it bucked wildly. It threw Draco off.
He landed on his back. The creature pressed a wide paw over his chest.
"Sectumsempra! "
The spell whizzed through the air and met its mark. The hellhound released a piercing shriek and stumbled away from Draco. As it fell back, it scraped a clawed paw across his chest.
"Aaargh!" Draco curled to his side, clutching his torso.
"Draco!" Hermione snapped her wand back, summoning Draco to her. He slid across the short-haired carpet; she pulled him to his feet. "Come on!"
The hellhound teetered, crashing from wall to wall, as they retreated to safety.