Disclaimer: Don't own it.

The Necromancer

Chapter 4: Trial and Error

Xander Harris drug his feet as he stepped through his front door. He sat his box of tools down near the coat rack and tossed off his work boots. It had been a long day to say the least. He hadn't slept the night before (new slayers tended to be trouble and the fact that they all wanted to impress their visiting role model Buffy didn't help the situation). He'd fell asleep during his lunch break and received a sermon from his hefty boss. Now all he wanted was to find his hidden bag of Doritos and do an interpretive dance as a couch potato, but life never was that easy for young Mr. Harris.

Xander ran into a muddled Giles in the kitchen. Buffy was right behind her old watcher wearing her official 'serious' face.

"Going out for dinner?" Xander gave them a half smile.

Buffy frowned. "A la Wizard is definitely on the menu."

Giles straightened his glasses and looked at Xander as if he'd just noticed him. "Oh, yes. Xander, the girls are still out shopping. Buffy and I need to go retrieve a book. We have a slight situation on our hands."

"Prophecies, magic books, big bads—the usual," Buffy commented. "Hold down the fort for us, 'kay?"

"Will do," Xander answered, watching Buffy and Giles go. He sighed. How long had they been doing this? It was always the same it seemed. When would he see something new?

Xander sat down on the couch, relishing in its ultra comfy pillows, and looked over to see what was left of his Doritos sitting beside him. "Buffy!" Nevertheless, he shoved his hand into the bag to scrape out the last of its tasty goodness.

Then he choked.

Someone had just stepped out of his fireplace.

No. Two someones had just fallen out of his fireplace.

Xander spit chip crumbs onto his shirt and stood up, grabbing a dagger that was stored next to the TV's remote control.

The two strangers from the fireplace stood up cautiously, hands up to show that they had no weapons. The first was a teenage boy with black hair and glasses. The second was a man who looked slightly younger than Giles wearing threadbare…robes? Both were covered in ashes and looked surprised at their surroundings.

Xander spoke first. "You should really think about knocking before entering. Are you evil? Better tell the truth now or I'll be forced to poke you really hard." He brandished the blade, though his hand was shaking slightly. After all, he had just seen two people appear through a fireplace. It was obviously some sort of magic. He half wondered if Willow could come through their fire place. Maybe it was just a portal. Or Santa Claus teleportation. Who knew? Well, probably the guys who had just fell through it!

"We mean you no harm," the man said. "My name is Remus Lupin. I had to make an emergency patch into your floo network. I do hope you don't mind, but we couldn't get another floo user in this part of Cleveland, Ohio. We are in Cleveland, correct?"

"Oh, you're in Cleveland," Xander answered. He almost laughed at man's words—he spoke Giles. "Did you just say you flew here? But you came through a fireplace. Oh, and you didn't answer that very important part about being evil."

The man, Remus Lupin, looked crestfallen and the teenager beside him slapped his forehead.

"You're a muggle!" the teenager said.

"A what?"

The teenager looked very aggravated. "We don't have time for this, Professor! Hermione is in trouble. We'll deal with him later."

Remus looked at Xander a second more before answering. "Sir, we have urgent business in Cleveland. We must go or a young girl may lose her life."

The teenage boy looked as if he was wondering why they were still standing there, but then his brow lifted as he saw Xander lower his weapon.

Xander smiled, still keeping the two in check. "So, where ya headed?"

The Book Cellar
Mina Granger's scream was suddenly cut off.

Hermione took a deep breath. A cold sweat came over her as she held the book close. She could feel tears welling up in her eyes. She knew that something was wrong, terribly wrong with her aunt, and somehow it had to do with this blessed book that had been hidden away.

"Knox," she whispered and pocketed her wand.

Hermione eased herself out of her room, her back against the wall, partly to hide her and partly to provide her balance. She had felt this sort of fear before in the Department of Mysteries, but then she'd had her friends beside her. They'd given her confidence. Now she was alone. No, that wasn't quite correct. The fear was more intense because she knew that she was not alone—the Lord of the Dead was with her.

"May you call upon my armies, Hermione Granger."

Hermione closed her eyes, recalling the line. It had said her name. It had to be a trick. But she kept hearing its words. She was tempted to reply aloud, but she bit her lip. Instead she concentrated on getting downstairs. The front and back doors were her only means of escape and both were located on the first level of the building.

Hermione crept out to the balcony of the second story where one could see the book store's many shelves and its huge chandelier but something was wrong with the scene before her….

The girl caught her breath and slid to the floor, a hand over her mouth to stifle her cries. From the store's beautiful chandelier hung Mina Granger, the light of the moon through the downstairs windows reflecting off the corpse. The body swung as if with a mystic wind until it was facing Hermione's direction. She could see her aunt's open, lifeless eyes even in the darkness.

Hermione turned from the gruesome scene, keeping her eyes ahead of her. She crawled on her knees, book under one arm and slid from step to step as quietly as she could. She was almost on the first floor, and she had not yet spotted her aunt's murderers. Then she heard it, the faintest of chuckles. It was an eerie, dark laugh that she recognized.

"No," the girl hissed to herself. It couldn't be her.

Then Hermione saw them. There were three. Two wore black robes and masks and were scanning the shelves of books, their wands out offensively. They were Death Eaters. In front of them stood a tall figure, bald and dressed in tight robes that made him seem even more snake-like. Lord Voldemort.

What are they doing here? Hermione felt the book tingle as she asked herself that question. Then they're after the book? It tingled again, sending goose bumps up Hermione's arms. Hermione had no time to question how her aunt knew about a magic book that apparently Voldemort was looking for. She had to get out. And fast.

She eased down the last few steps. So far, the Death Eaters were concentrating on their search, their focus on the back of the building. Her route to the front door was clear. She drew out her wand and headed forward.

The glass entrance door was only a few feet ahead of her when a she felt a hand grab hold of her hair and jerk her backwards. She was tossed to the floor and her wand hand was immediately stomped on. Her only weapon was kicked from her grasp before she could utter a spell.

A Death Eater looked down on her. He was removing his mask. Hermione recognized Lucius Malfoy's sneering face. The wizard gave a small smile that was anything but kind. He had his wand on her.

"My, what a catch. Potter's little girlfriend, the know-it-all," he said. "Stand up, mudblood."

Hermione pulled herself up, only then realizing that she was still holding the book beneath her arm. She forced herself to hold a brave, Gryffindor face, but inside she felt as if she was already doomed.

"Aren't you supposed to be in prison?" Hermione asked.

Laughter came from behind. Hermione had no need to turn her head. She knew that it belonged to Bellatrix Lestrange. The remaining Death Eaters and their Dark Lord were now most definitely looking in Hermione's direction.

"Accio book!'

Hermione felt the book fly out from beneath her arm and into the outstretched hand of Lord Voldemort. The Dark Lord smiled cruelly before speaking.

"It seems," came his hissing voice, "that Miss Granger has been so kind as to deliver our book to us."

Bellatrix laughed once again, irritating Hermione. She wished to comment on it but Malfoy interrupted her.

"Then that is the book you were searching for, My Lord?" Lucius asked.

"It is indeed," Voldemort said. "Bella, I would like to see flames. Show the muggles that it is not their place to hold such books of power."

Bellatrix, face still hidden by her mask, sat her wand to a pile of books. "Incendio!" she cried. She took a step back, watching the flames lick the volumes.

Voldemort paid no attention but stroked The Lord of the Dead's cover, not bothering to open the book. Instead he stared at the aged cover as if in rapture. "Lucius, have Miss Granger show us the way out. We have an important guest due here any moment," he said suddenly.

"My pleasure."

Lucius swished his wand and Hermione flew forward through the glass front door. She landed in a heap, shards of glass slicing her skin as she tried to pull herself up. Pain shot through her leg, and she collapsed back on to the ground. She turned to see a triangular piece of glass jutting out of her upper thigh, a puddle of crimson collecting beneath her.

Lucius walked through the frame of the shattered door, wand still on Hermione. Voldemort and Bellatrix followed likewise.

Hermione shot Lucius a look of hatred. "You bastard!" she shouted. "You're all going to burn in Hell. And Harry and Dumbledore are going to send you there personally!"

Voldemort let out a low chuckle. "Oh, are they, girl? We shall see, but, sadly, you will not be there to witness your friends' final defeat. Consider yourself lucky—after all, you won't have to watch every one around you die like your precious Harry Potter will."

Suddenly there was a pop and a figure wearing long gray robes and holding an old plastic soda bottle in front of him appeared before the group. The new comer dropped the bottle and pushed back his hood to reveal a young, sharp face and white-blond hair.

"Father," Draco Malfoy said. His eyes were wide as he saw Hermione on the ground. "What's going on, Father?"

Hermione's mouth dropped open. She honestly didn't know why she was so surprise to see the Slytherin. It was almost fact that the whole Malfoy family was in league with the Dark Lord. Hermione simply hadn't expected anyone her own age to already be a Death Eater, if in fact Draco truly was. Perhaps this was just his initiation. What if he's supposed to kill me…the mudblood?

"It seems young Malfoy has arrived," Voldemort said.

Draco turned, only just noticing the Dark Lord. The young man went down on one knee almost automatically and bowed his head in respect. "My Lord."

"Then I trust our portkey worked well?" Voldemort asked. "You did as you were asked. Very good."

Voldemort made no sign for Draco to rise but sat his coveted book before the teenage boy.

"Do you know why you are here, boy?"

"No, my Lord," Draco answered.

Voldemort nodded to himself. "I require one such as yourself: a strong, powerful wizard. . . . Who is pure."

Draco did not look up but Hermione saw his cheeks redden.

"Excuse me, my Lord?"

"Pure, Young Malfoy," the Dark Lord repeated. "Pure of heart, pure of body. Your father said that you are still pure. He did not lie to me, now did he? You are pure?"

Draco nodded quickly. "I'm. . . .I am pure of body, my Lord."

Voldemort raised a brow. "And of heart?"

Draco looked up a bit. "I do not understand, my Lord. How is one pure of heart?"

"Have you ever wished one dead? Have you ever killed? Have you ever enjoyed another's pain?" Voldemort asked.

Draco was slow to answer. Voldemort reached down and cupped the young man's chin with his long fingers. He tilted Draco's head and looked into his eyes.

"No. You have never done these things. You are pure enough, boy. Do not fear, we will remedy that soon after this ordeal." Voldemort released Draco.

Lucius spoke up. "Is he 'qualified', my lord?"

Voldemort did not answer him but looked down on the young man again. "Draco Malfoy. You are mine from this moment on. You will be my instrument. Now open the book before you and read its words aloud."

Draco slowly extended his hand to the book's cover. "My Lord?" Draco glanced about, confused. "It will not open."

Voldemort's slit like nostril's flared in fury. "Did you lie to me, boy?"

Draco panicked at Voldemort's anger and fell backward. "No, my Lord! Never!"

"Crucio!" Voldemort hissed, hitting the boy with the curse.

Draco writhed in pain on the ground. "I. . . did not lie!" he cried.

"Stop it!" Hermione shouted, her face a mask of fury. She was shocked by her own actions. What did she care about Draco Malfoy? He meant nothing to her. It's because he has a pure heart. . . .No one deserves this. Not even Mr. Bastard Jr.

Voldemort lifted the curse suddenly, the anger vanishing from his face. He instead turned to the weakened Hermione with his red eyes wide.

"Well, well," he spat. "It seems, Young Malfoy, that Miss Granger beat you to the race. You opened the book, didn't you, girl?"

"No," Hermione replied meekly.

Voldemort saw straight through the lie. "I didn't know you had it in you. To think of it: one of Dumbledore's prize students dabbling in the works of the Lord of the Dead."

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Hermione shouted.

Voldemort raised a hand to her, gesturing toward her. "We shall see who the liar is here. Lucius, bring her to me."