The challenge (under chapter 19) is still open for anyone so I hope that you all start sending in something. I'll pick on Sunday so for those of you who read my stories, I suggest you send something in soon if you want the opportunity to be considered. Again, I appreciate those of you who already did. With that --- Happy reading!
Broken Like an Angel - Chapter 21
Alan's foot had been shaking for well over an hour, a habit that he had picked up from his grandmother long ago, and a habit which was driving Bellatrix Lestrange to breaking point. She followed the twitching limb with her dark, beady eyes prepared to kill the man if he did not stop soon.
Shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, SHAKE, SHAKE, SHAKE, SHAKE, SHAKE, SHAKE—
"WILL YOU BLOODY STOP IT?!"
Bellatrix's voice echoed throughout the entire room bouncing off the walls until her scratchy voice faded into oblivion, silence overcoming everyone. Alan, along with all of the other people present in the room, stared at her off put.
"Let me say that if you continue shaking that maddening foot of yours, I will kill you." She spoke truthfully for when I death eater threatened to kill, one should take it seriously. Normally, people would have just assumed that the she was kidding; an exaggerated joke telling the others how frustrated he or she was becoming. Not to a death eater. When a death eater made a threat, that person definitely had every intention of carrying it out. So knowing that to the fullest extreme—Alan stopped shaking his foot.
"Bella I'm afraid that my lack of self control in regards to my maddening foot is because of my wife. Something is not right and I can feel it. It's driving me crazy!"
"Do not whine to me for I don't care about your fucking mudblood. It was your fault for letting her escape and I thought I told you to handle it. Your incompetence and inability to find her is ridiculous and I think it is quite obvious that I'm not the only one angered by this. Do you have a death wish?" she asked sarcastically.
Alan huffed thickly as he said, "I do not have a death wish nor do I plan on casting one, but you must understand that I need more time–"
"Time?"
Instantly, every person not of the ranks that was currently occupying the room dropped to their knees, bowing their head in respect. The Dark Lord had entered the room freezing the air as he progressed closer to the two people he wanted to speak with; Alan and Bellatrix.
"Did I just hear you say that you need more time?" he asked, his voice cruel and dark; a nightmare turned reality.
"My Lord you must understand that–"
"I was rather patient with you when the little mudblood disappeared in the first place on the grounds that I know how intelligent the young woman is. She is probably the only reason that Potter was able to escape me on those few occasions and I would never deny the mudblood of her intelligence. None the less, you have had a significant amount of time. The results? You ask for more time. That is just unacceptable."
Alan had not even a single moment in time to react for the next instant he was being held up in midair by his throat. It was easy to see that Voldemort was annoyed to which Alan was thankful for immensely. He would have been dead had he been really angry.
"I want that mudblood found and brought to me. Have I made myself clear?" asked the malicious man still holding up the dark haired bloke with his bony bare hand.
"Yes m-my Lord, but–"
"But? Did you just say but?" Alan felt numb all over his body upon hearing that question.
Alan gulped thickly regretting colossally for uttering that horrid word. Black eyes scanned over him taking notice to how he was trembling from head to toe, face turning rather white seeing as he was holding up the man by his throat. Voldemort shook his head, shamed to call this man a standing member of his clan, before he dropped him to the ground without any remorse or guilt. Alan sputtered in an attempt to catch his breath capriciously in view of the strangulation.
"Pathetic." Voldemort's voice was wicked and foul; immoral.
"I'm s-sorry my Lord," gasped Alan finally regaining some composure, still on the ground. "I will...f-find her."
"You better because if you don't find her, and soon, I'm going to do a few things to you that will probably cause you pain. Actually it will definitely cause you pain. First I'll start by putting you under a certain spell called the Imperius Curse, under which you will bite off every single one of your fingers one by bloody one. The rest of your punishment will follow in due time, but I'm going to leave that to your imagination. Just think of everything that I will do to you unless you find that mudblood soon. Clear?"
Alan nodded, not really trusting his voice. The Dark Lord looked back to all of the other members that were on their knees bowing still before he sneered, and walked away.
"Well," began an amused Bellatrix, "I guess you've finally realized just how serious this is. Still have that death wish?"
Alan did not respond to her. He started walking back to his chambers unaware that there were others occupying his room.
Just like him, they were unaware that he was coming.
Draco hated this. He hated how it was Hermione going in first to see if the coast was clear while he stood on guard. Arguments were futile with her for she always concluded that she had been the one to live there for five years and it was logical for her to be the one to check. Sometimes that Gryffindor can be so bloody stubborn!
Hermione emerged from the side panel, the same door she had used to enter the first time. Draco turned to her immediately making sure that she was alright before letting her speak.
"Coast is clear. I don't know for how long though so let's go." She turned to go back to the door, but he grabbed her hand.
"I just...I don't have a good feeling about this. Let me go first, alright?"
Hermione knew he was just being paranoid, but nodded none the less. Draco let out a heavy breath as he crawled through the door into a dark room.
"Lumos," he whispered illuminating the room featuring an assortment of odd objects. Draco felt his stomach plummet realizing just what room they were in.
"Hermione don't move."
"Why?"
"Was this the room you came in originally?" he asked clutching his wand so tight that his knuckles were turning chalk white.
"Yeah. I didn't stay long, but just went to the door."
"Let's get the fuck out of here. Where the hell is the main door?" She pointed to his left making him grab her hand and yank her towards it. She was confused by his reaction thus why she jerked away from his grip.
"Draco what's wrong?"
"This room...Merlin this is the, um, place where he tortures people. Drives them insane to get information which is why there is a door leading to the outside. They take their captures and immediately throw them in here."
Hermione looked away from his gaze as she muttered, "I know that. I've been in here several times."
Draco looked at her perplexed for a moment. He then said, "I thought you said that you didn't stay long–"
"When I came Draco. When I came here I didn't stay long. It doesn't mean that I did not share my fair amount of time in here during that five years here altogether. Now can we just go?"
Draco nodded. Hermione watched sadly as he turned away from her towards the door feeling a severe amount of pain from the look that he had given her. Most people wouldn't have seen that flash of grief come over his eyes for a brief moment since he was such a guarded man. None of them knew him like she did allowing her to sift through that silver shield to see that anguish in him. It broke her heart all over.
"Angel?"
She had been so consumed with her thoughts for a moment that she had forgotten about the task at hand. She raced over to Draco taking his hand. He gave her a reassuring squeeze before he wrapped Harry's invisibility cloak around the both of them and stepped out into the hallway with his wand clenched at his side.
It seemed to drag on for centuries. The soft sounds of their feet pressing on the cold stone in complete sync, echoing softly, was the only noise they heard. Hermione kept glancing over her shoulder making sure that nobody was behind them. Even with the cloak she feared that they would be seen. It was not a problem for her seeing as she was such a short witch, but Draco was rather tall so she feared that their feet would be seen.
Hermione had been smart when she chose the time for them to take this little venture. She was well aware that all of the clan would be in a meeting allowing them sufficient time to get up to the room in order to ambush Alan upon his return. When he would return, she did not know nor did she care. As long as he came back, she would be pleased.
Draco came to a halt at a crossroad in the castle. There were three different ways they could go; forward, left, and right. Draco, unsure of the route they should take, waited for Hermione to speak. She seemed to freeze at that precise moment and he could not understand why.
"Angel–"
She threw her hand over his mouth pushing his face to stare to his left. All feeling was lost in his legs as he saw Fenrir Greyback walking towards them, grimy with dirt and hateful with a scowl. Four others were following him close behind, but none of them looked as foul as the werewolf in his human form walking in their direction. Hermione and Draco were both smart enough to know that they could not shift for any sound would surely be detected by him along with their scent which, unfortunately, they could not mask. All they could do was stand perfectly still and hope that he did not turn down their aisle.
The callous bloke seemed more deteriorated than the last time that Draco had seen him when he was nineteen. His long grey hair was dingy, the ends looking burned and frayed. Sharp whiskers stemmed off from around his entire neck creating, literally, a fur collar. Most importantly, he looked much crueler than he had before. Oh yes, he looked different to Draco. It was not as though the man ever looked appealing or even decent, but never did Draco think the man was capable of looking more vicious.
Finally he was at the parting intersection where he stopped abruptly. Most people would have jumped at his drastic halt, but not Hermione and Draco. They had been prepared to handle such situations, precisely the reason why Hermione had not removed her trembling hand from Draco's face. She knew that even that would have been too loud of a sound that he, as half-man and half-wolf, would have picked up on it with his exceptional hearing.
"I smell something. Smells like sweet apples." Hermione gulped quietly hating herself for being so stupid. She had grown accustom to sharing various things with Draco including his high quality shampoo. One would have normally loved to smell her hair after her morning shower, including Draco who found the scent much more appealing on her rather than on him, for it was quite a strong aroma. Why did I shower this morning with it?! What the hell is wrong with me?
"Must you insist on eating those bloody things? I swear that those vile fruits are going to plague me," growled Greyback to one of the men standing behind him. He dropped his head, a silent apology, before Greyback proceeded forward to Draco and Hermione's right. After a few moments they were out of sight and Hermione released her death grip from around Draco's face.
"Oh Merlin, that was close," she whispered, shaking violently. Draco wanted to comfort her, to hold her, but time was of the essence.
"Come on Angel. Which way do we go?" he asked gently hoping that she would be able to regain her lost composure. He needed her to be strong or else they would not make it through this.
"Well, we're not going right for obvious reasons. We could go that way or forward, but I think that way would be faster." She pointed to her left with her delicate finger extended in the general direction. Draco grabbed her hand and kissed it briefly, assuring her they were okay.
I don't deserve someone so perfect. Draco and Hermione had thought in unison.
Their feet started to move at a swift pace heading for the staircase which led to the upper level. Hermione's erratic breathing was mixing with Draco's heavy pants, mutually wondering why the hell such a high member would be in that particular castle on the very night they decide to venture there.
Hermione was trying to think of the logical reason for Greyback's close whereabouts since she could be plastered everywhere as the cover girl for practicality. It was in her nature to immediately look for a lucid motive to his current location. Draco on the other hand had a darker, often seen as unreasonable, approach—assume the worst. He just could not understand why he, of all the people that were standing death eaters (and there were many, some of which he had yet to inform Hermione and the rest of the light side about), was there in the first place. Something was going down tightening that large knot that was afflicting his already churning stomach.
Despite the overwhelming worries jarring them about the recent, almost deadly, encounter with an absolute monstrous beast, Draco and Hermione had to pull themselves together to focus. Worries and fears would only create more; death would be the result. Forcing their minds to succumb to the tasks in the present would get them to their destination without any scratches or further harm. Long story short, the two started to walk faster.
The staircase directly in front of them was narrow, an impending problem to say the least. If they went up the staircase side by side and came face to face with anyone, they would surely be caught. However, if one went before the other than certain lagging limbs would be exposed to the naked eye. A sort of common sense was able to solve this.
Draco grabbed Hermione firmly pulling him to the front of his chest. He lifted her up easily, her petite frame melting into his (Merlin she is so bloody perfect. It was as though she was made to be next to me), forcing her to wrap her legs around him. Her arms were wrapped tightly around his neck, cheek to cheek, as he walked up the staircase slowly. As a result of this new closeness, their hearts began to beat in sync; perfect harmony.
While they did not encounter anyone venturing down the staircase whilst they were attempting to move up, the temporary position did have a good effect on the both of them—it calmed them. Wrapping themselves in their own thoughts, letting their minds overwrought them with horrifying dreads of what was to come, only heightened the forthcoming terror they would face. The short walk up the stairs was soothing. The sweet feeling, of course, would not last, but it helped none the less.
Draco set her down gingerly taking in her face for a brief moment. How he wanted to kiss those lips, to brush those soft cheeks with his hands, to–focus Draco!
Hermione was the first to react this time grabbing Draco's hand to lead him further. The vast castle was unusually dark considering the time of night that they were there, but she could not let that get to her. She had to get to that room.
The sound of Hermione's small heal hitting the stone floor was drowned by Draco's footsteps. She loved how he always had the ability to make her feel small. Unlike Alan, who made her feel weak, inferior, Draco made her feel safe and protected, a big difference from what she had been accustomed to. Oh how she loved this man.
And there it was. The door that he had kept her locked behind for years was right there, unmarked, just as she had last seen it. For a long while, in this case seconds, she just stared, unable to pry her tortured eyes away. Something as simple as a door had been her only blockade against freedom for over five years. A door. Just a door. The obstruction from her life was merely three inches thick, but she hated it. She hated it with every fiber of her soul.
Draco uttered the spell unlocking the haunting door. Hermione hesitated, but only for a brief moment as to suck in a full breath. Upon opening the door to reveal the room, the room which she had spent a sufficient amount of her life in, she let out that breath she had sucked in a mere second before. Draco was not looking at the room, not looking behind them, not looking for anything that could help them with the particular position they were in—he was staring at her, completely fixated on her expression; bleak loss.
He somehow knew, just absolutely knew, that she saw her innocence fade before her eyes as she stared at the room.
Rational thoughts would have told him to shut the door and prepare her to get ready for her husband's arrival. He was not thinking rationally though. He was so consumed in the horrified expression painted on her lovely face that he could not bring himself to do it, to force her to focus. He wanted, more than anything, to give her time to let everything settle in. The problem was that time was not on their side; time was against them.
She moved forward slowly, the invisibility cloak falling from off of her, moving to the point where she was standing in the middle of the vast room, surrounding herself in every essence of her husband. He was not there in body, but he was lingering in there, something which unnerved her. Draco moved forward, shut the door quickly, and took off the cloak leaving the silvery material on the floor for the time being.
"You know," she whispered, her voice barely there, "I genuinely thought I could do this. I thought I would come into this castle and...just be able to waltz right in knowing that you were right by my side. Now I'm here and I can't bring myself to be strong."
Instantly, her weight became too much for her, and she fell to the floor in a small heap. Draco reacted on instinct throwing himself beside her to hold her steady, and firmly, by the upper arms.
"Hermione you–"
"It doesn't matter Draco," she said quietly yet firmly, "He's broken me. He has made me into some disgusting vile piece of nothing. I am nothing. I have nothing and I am absolutely nothing and–"
"HEY!" he growled, anger spilling over him. He hated that she was doing this to herself. Hermione Granger–brightest witch to ever walk the halls of fucking Hogwarts—was doing this to herself. She was a witch so capable that anything should have been possible, but her former life was holding her back, breaking his angel all over again. Draco was doing his best to be patient with her (rightfully so he had been up until this point), but this was far too extreme for him. He could not bear to listen to her openly berate the person he loved most, the only person alive that he valued above all others–her.
"Hermione you will listen to everything that I say right now and you will listen well. I don't ever want to hear you talk that way again, do you understand? It is one thing to hate that bastard, that bloody prick, but it is quite another to hate yourself. You are a lioness and I'm fucking sick if you reverting back to what he made you as though you're some fucking coward. For the sake of Merlin, you are a bloody Gryffindor and while it infuriates me at times seeing as you're one of the most stubborn people to have ever walked in this world, your Gryffindor side is what makes you the beautiful, smart, incredible woman that I love. I love you Hermione with everything in me and I can't bear to listen to you do this to yourself anymore. All that being said, if I ever, and I mean ever, hear you talk that way again, I will bloody well nail your tongue to the roof of your mouth. Do you understand me?"
She looked up into his blue eyes looking almost like a child, quite literally intimidated by his anger. Obviously she had pushed him far too hard, so hard in fact, that he was pushing back. A part of her felt hurt, feeling as though he had no right to yell at her the way that he did. The other part could not blame him though. I'm a fucking hypocrite. Did I not do the same thing for him in regards to Taylor? I guess...well I guess he had a right to do this.
"Hermione do you understand me?" he repeated, refusing to let go of his grasp that he had around her until she gave him a sign that he had made everything perfectly clear.
Not trusting her voice, she nodded. He loosened his grip on her, not completely, but enough to show that he was calming down.
"Alright. Now I need you to pull yourself together because we don't have the time. Angel I will spend the rest of my life trying to erase those memories if I have to, but we need to get through tonight. Okay?" Again, she opted for nodding.
"So we must–"
Draco could not finish that sentence for right at that moment, Alan Jameson walked into his room, completely wide-eyed for he was just as shocked, if not more shocked than them, to see his wife and her lover (Merlin knows what else the fucking guy is to my wife!) sitting in the middle of his bedroom pulled in the others' embrace.
Suddenly, Alan smile.
A/N: Oh no! What's going to happen?! Hehehe...So I'm sorry that I did not update like normal, but I am a college student on break. My friends returned from all over state, and the rest of the country, so I've been very busy lately with all of them. I apologize, but I hope this chapter makes up for it.
"Broken Like an Angel" is by the band Crossfade. When I wrote the chapter, I thought about the lines, "She wants to fall in love again, don't you know that he, HE'S, satisfied to own her...She just wants to fall in love again. She's broken like an angel." Enough said, I think.
READ AND REVIEW!! If you can read it, then you can review it.
Iris is the work of fanfiction. The characters belong to J.K. Rowling, but the featured story is mine.