Library of Shadows

Hermione took two steps into her new apartment before she collapsed into the nearest arm chair and wept.

Tears fell for herself and for Ron, for the life that was slowly slipping away from her, for the utter uncertainty of death.

She stared, unseeing, curled in her chair, until she finally drifted off into a restless sleep.

~~~O~~~

A blood-curdling scream fills the air. A woman, with long blonde hair, is suspended in the air, her back arched at an unnatural angle as she screams in pain.

"I don't have anything else! Please! PLEASE!" She breaks into convulsive spasms as thousands of tiny needles seem to pierce her body all at once.

"You are lying," says the voice silkily beneath the hooded cloak. "I have it on good authority that you hold the key to the famed Library of Shadows."

"What?" The woman gaps in horror, as she struggles to turn her head to her tormentor. "How did you know that?!" She flinches as she catches sight of the eyes beneath the cloak. There is a frightening beauty in that cold, steadfast gaze. Slowly, holding her stare in his, he raises his arm to gesture to something from the corner of the room.

A tall man calmly steps out of the shadows and walks to the centre of the room to gaze down at the young woman. She recoils in horror as she recognizes his face. "Alistair! What are you doing here?" Realization dawns on her face. "You are working for You-Know-Who."

The man nods, his jaw clenching for a moment, as he continues to look down at the girl.

Her face seems to crumple in on itself. A sea of hurt and pain rushes through her as she gazes at the man who has betrayed her. "I loved you," she whispers. "How could you do this to me?"

A high, cold laugh fills the air that sends shivers down the woman's spine. "Ah, love." The hooded figure sneers. "A useless, tepid emotion that fools use to become spineless, artless animals. Tell me, girl, what has love ever done for you?"

When she says nothing the Dark Lord continues, "What is love in the stead of loyalty? Or trust? These attributes are far more powerful than the love you mortals pander after. Nott, a most faithful servant, chose love over loyalty in an instant."

Alistair Nott, bends over to whisper in his lover's ear, "You think that I could love a slut like you? A rich, spoiled heiress whose only quality is that of being pure blooded?" He smiles coldly. "Oh my dear, apart from being a silly little toy that I used to serve my Master, you are nothing to me." He slides one soft finger down her cheek to trace a faded tear track. "You were good in the sack, though. Like a bitch in the heat."

The life in the woman's eyes seems to fade away to leave a parody, a skeleton of a human. She turns her head back to the Dark Lord, staring at him unseeingly. Even when the pain is inflicted on her worn body, even as she confesses all she knows about her family's infamous Library of Shadows, her empty eyes cling to his.

They leave her in a senseless heap on her bedroom floor. Killing her is not necessary; she is already broken.

~~~O~~~

"No!" Hermione screamed, as she woke up covered in droplets of sweat. She groped unconsciously for Ron, before remembering that he was gone. A gripping cough consumed her entire being, overwhelming her with its devouring presence. It lasted for several minutes and, as she attempted to move weakly towards the kitchen, a sudden dizziness overcame her, sending the whole world spinning around her in a blur.

She felt herself hit the ground, before the door creaked open.