A new wave of anger washes over her. She's tired of being here, chained to the wall like an animal and treated like dirt. If Draco could get himself out then so can she. Her first plan may have failed, but she vows to get herself out. And soon. And if that fails she'll try again. And again. She won't stop trying until she's dead or out of this hell-hole. Or both.

Chapter Nine

She wakes because someone is saying her name.

"Granger."

She sits up, head thrumming and feeling more sick than she's ever felt.

It's all darkness around her, so black and thick it's tangible. She can't see where her name came from and she starts to think she only dreamt it.

"Granger."

There it is.

She squints. "Draco?" It's weird to hear her own voice echo back to her.

He materializes out of the darkness before her.

"There you are." He smiles at her and she forgets all the anger she felt toward him and smiles back. "I knew I'd find you here," he tells her.

She frowns. "You did?"

Something is wrong. He doesn't look right. He's different from the last time she'd seen him. His hair is combed nicely, his face is still thin, but fuller, and he's in his Slytherin uniform.

"Why are you wearing that?" she asks.

"Come on. I want to show you something," he says like he didn't hear her question. Like she isn't half naked and chained to the wall.

He turns and moves like he's walking, but he stays right in front of her the whole time.

"What are you doing?" She's getting upset. If he thinks he's being funny he's not.

"Remember when you told me about watching the stars?"

A strange sense of deja vu comes over her. This had happened before.

"Well I found you the perfect place," he says over his shoulder.

This had happened to her before. She remembers. He had found her a spot in the Forbidden Forest; a clearing where you could see the sky without disruption. She remembers that it had been the most beautiful, most perfect spot for star gazing.

So why is this happening to her again?

Draco finally stops walking in place and turns back around, coming to sit beside her.

She watches him in awe. Does he realize what's happening? Does he know?

He smiles at her. "Look." He raises a finger to the ceiling.

Hermione looks up to what should be a wall of black, but instead sees billions of stars; shining, twinkling, swirling with light. It's just like she remembers it. So perfect.

She looks back over at Draco who is staring up like an innocent child, his eyes wide and shining, his face reflecting awe, for once forgetting about the dark grip on his shoulder.

She smiles at him when he turns to look back at her. She remembers glancing at the trees behind him, terrified they'd be caught and she would have had to try to reason something she couldn't explain. But now, there is just them. Her and him and pitch blackness. And she's not really sure if he's really there.

His hand ghosts over cheek, picking out something caught in her hair. He feels real.

"Twig," he explains quickly.

She lifts her hand, remembering what she did next. "You too," she says, brushing an imaginary stick from his hair. There had never been one, but she had wanted to touch him.

His hand still hasn't left her cheek. He rubs his thumb over her cheekbone, shakily, she realizes. She can't remember him shaking when this happened before, but she supposes it was because she was just as nervous.

Suddenly, he dips his head, catching her off guard, and puts his lips against hers in an awkward, clumsy way.

Before she has time to react, he pulls back, taking his hands off her like she's fire. His eyes are wide and scared to death.

"I'm sorry!" he blurts, standing up quickly. "I'm so sorry! That wasn't supposed to happen. We're supposed to hate each other. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," she tries to tell him, but he can't hear because the first time this happened she hadn't said anything. She'd sat there, watching him leave with her mouth slightly open and her heart thrumming painfully and a whirlwind of emotion in her head.

"Draco!" she yells, trying to stop him. The anger comes back because he's leaving her again.

The door slams open and the figure of Draco disappears into a bright light that pierces her eyes as a tall figure struts in.

Hermione cowers down, drawing her arms and legs to her chest in order to make herself smaller.

The light moves to the side and she can see the figure who brought it is Bellatrix Lestrange. Hermione groans, dreading the things only Bellatrix can bring.

"Hello there," Bellatrix says almost sweetly, as if she's talking to a pup or kitten. She squats down so that she's face to face with Hermione, breathing sour breaths on her face.

Hermione turns her head to the side in order to avoid her crazed gaze. Bellatrix draws her mouth into a pout and soon Hermione feels her long nails running lightly over her goose pimpled skin.

"Are you cold?" Bellatrix tuts. "I have an idea." She stands up straight again, towering over the frail witch below her. "Let's play a game to warm you up."

Hermione shivers at the thought of what she would consider a 'game'.

"I'll ask you a question, and you answer truthfully or I'll break you fingers. It's one of my favourite games, I play it all the time. I'm sure it will help you forget about the cold."

Hermione dares a look at her. Bellatrix's face is have hidden in a shadow, but the bright white light, makes her face sharp and easy to see she isn't lying. Hermione tugs on her chained arm subconsciously; trying to hide her thin fingers.

"Let's start with an easy one," Bellatrix says, tapping her chin in thought. Hermione braces herself. "How did you steal Fenrir Greyback's wand?"

She swallows, trying to think of the answer Bellatrix wants to hear.

"He says it went missing after diner, but the dumbass could have not noticed until the next morning." She crouches down again and takes Hermione's pointer finger in between two of her own, running them up and down the slender digit. "So how did you do it?"

She's trying not to shake or cry, watching her finger being caressed by the hands that could snap it any moment.

"I-" She clears her throat because it feels swollen and it's hard to talk. "I took it off the table." Bellatrix is smiling at her in an unnerving fashion. "It was on the table and I took it when he wasn't looking."

"Good girl." She stands straight.

Hermione lets go of a shaking breath she didn't know she was holding.

"Isn't this fun?" Bellatrix asks. "I've bet you've forgotten all about the cold!"

She is still shaking, but the most of her seems to have gone numb.

"Next question." Bellatrix taps her wand to her lips like she really has to think of something to ask. "What's their next plan?"

"Who?"

"You bloody well know who!" she suddenly shrieks, making Hermione wince. "They obviously don't care enough to come get you first. So what were you and your filthy friends planning on doing next?"

"I don't know, I-"

"Wrong answer!"

In one swift movement, Bellatrix has Hermione's chained hand between her fingers, spreading her small fingers wide.

Hermione closes her eyes, waiting for the splitting pain.

"I'm tired of being lied to, Mudblood! You're the only one with brains in you little group, so I know you know! I've already had to pay for enough of your fuckups! I won't take any more!"

"Please!" Hermione begs. She's crying now. "You have to believe me! I don't know! We didn't have a plan!"

"You have such nice fingers," Bellatrix says, running her own finger over each one. "Which one would you like me to break?"

She's shaking her head and pulling on the cuff. "Please!"

"How about this one."

She feels something cold goes over her pinkie finger. Her eyes squeeze shut and her other hand fists tightly.

Crack.

She bites her lip to muffle her scream, and tastes both blood and bile. Her eyes burn so badly from tears that she can't open them properly.

"Now," Bellatrix says. "Tell me where they're going next and I won't have to break another."

It takes her a moment before she can even open her mouth without crying out or throwing up.

"I-"

"You might want to think about what you're going to say first."

Hermione's lip trembles and blood slides down her chin from where she broke skin. She can barely feel anything over the pulsing pain in her pinkie, but she can feel something cold slide over the finger next to it.

She gasps and lets out a sob.

"Well?" Bellatrix asks impatiently.

"Hogwarts!" Hermione blurts. "Their next plan was to go to Hogwarts!"

After a moment, the contraption slides off her ring finger and she lets out a sigh of relief.

"See?" Bellatrix asks. "That wasn't so hard!"

Colin Creevey had been furious with Hermione when neither she nor Draco came to rescue him and the rest of the prisoners on the night she said she would. He trusted her and then she let him down. It didn't take long though for him to hear rumours of what had happened and he immediately felt bad for feeling angry.

"The Mudblood stole Greyback's wand."

"Which Mudblood?"

"Potter's. And apparently the Blood Traitor got away and left her."

"The Malfoy boy? He couldn't have! I had patrol around the manor all week! I would have seen!"

"That's what Lestrange said."

"What happened to the Mudblood then? Did Greyback find his wand?"

"Yeah. I heard that Greyback tortured her so hard she died."

"I thought I heard Strals say she had a seizure and passed out."

"Whatever. All I know was that Greyback was pissed and the Mudblood got what she deserved."

Colin can't stop thinking about that conversation he heard between two Death Eaters one evening when he was sweeping a hall. He does't want to believe what they said, but it's hard not to.

Now, he's cleaning up the kitchen like they usually have him doing and wondering how in the world Draco Malfoy managed to escape. Suddenly, he notices that the House Elves have gone strangely quiet.

He turns around to find someone very out of place in the kitchen.

She's dressed nicely, in a long black dress and heavy diamonds hang from her ears. But her face is very different from her formal attire. It's thin, hallow, and shadowy.

Colin fidgets nervously as she walks toward him, but she seems to be just as nervous; glancing hastily at the House Elves and wringing her hands.

"Mr. Creevey," Narcissa addresses him. Her voice sounds weak.

"Mrs. Malfoy," Collin says carefully. It's the first time since he's been here that anyone, besides the other prisoners, has called him something other than Mudblood. It makes him more unsure of how Narcissa stands. At times she seems as powerful and ruthless as her husband, and others she cowers around him like a wipped dog.

"May I speak with you in private?" She glances again at the House Elves.

"Yes," he says, though he has no choice.

She leads him out of the kitchens, down the hall, and into a corner at the foot of some stairs.

"You know of my son Draco?" she whispers.

He nods.

"Has he spoken with you recently? Do you know of his plans?" She's shaking lightly.

Colin shakes his head. "He never talked to me. Is he really gone?"

She presses her lips tightly together and says quietly, "I don't know."

"You don't know? You mean, you haven't seen him? He's your own son and you don't know where he is?" Narcissa tightens her brow and Colin remembers who and where he is right now. "I'm sorry, miss," he says, praying his frankness won't lead to some punishment, his eye is still stinging from the last time he let his mouth run ahead of his brain.

Narcissa ignores his apology. "No, I haven't seen him," she says stiffly. "My sister makes sure he sees no one important to him. 'The Blood Traitor doesn't deserve to see the people who used to call him family' she says." Narcissa takes a shaking breath. "I'm sorry to take your time." She nods at Colin. "I was only hoping someone would be able to tell me about my son."

Colin can tell she's on the brink of tears. "Try talking to Hermione Granger," he says quickly. "She told me that her and Draco were put in the same cell. Of course, I don't know if they still are. I don't even know if she's still alive. I heard that they tortured her until she died-." He cuts himself off before he can start to ramble.

"Thank you." She nods at him lightly and moves quickly away.

Colin waits until she's gone to head back to the kitchen. He's even more confused on what to think of the woman now. He hopes he hasn't inadvertently hurt Hermione by suggesting Narcissa talk with her.

He passes by a window and stops to look outside. It's bright, a sharp contrast to the dark corridors of the manor. There are flowers in bloom below the window. Gone is the season of death, taken over by new life.

He goes to place his hand on the window, not caring that he'll probably have to clean the smudges off later, but before his fingers can touch the glass there is a sharp buzzing noise and lighting travels from the window to the bones in his hand. He yelps and holds his fist to his chest. There is no escaping the manor.

A/N: In case it wasn't obvious enough, the part at the top with Draco was a hallucination. I did it to show how sick Hermione is getting and also for some background on their relationship.

IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT!: This story will be going on hiatus. Right now, I estimate that I'll be back with the next chapters around the first of October, but that is not set in stone. -Update: I'm a liar.

Thanks for reading. I hope everyone had a great first week back to Hogwarts! Reviews are lovely, please send more!