Disclaimer: Yeah... No. I just own the storyline I made up here.

Chapter Thirteen

"Give me your hand," Blaise whispered as they made their way down the hall.

Tap, tap, tap. Hermione's heels clicked as she walked across the floor, and halted suddenly. "Why?" Suspicion laced its way into her voice, despite her attempt to be more trusting of him.

He stopped walking as well and turned around. "Has everything got to be an interrogation with you, Granger?" He asked exasperatedly.

He was met with her stubborn silence.

"I'm trying to be a gentleman and keep you from tripping over everything in the dark, Granger; the least you can do is oblige me by going along with my requests." He said softly.

Still, she did not speak.

Blaise sighed and began pacing. "What are you even looking for, anyway? I never thought you'd go anywhere without Scarhead and Weaselbee."

His last comment stirred resentment within her, and she chose then to indulge him in conversation. "How very Slytherin of you." She spat bitterly, glaring at him. "And here I was thinking that since you'd gone about asking for redemption that you would have started by rising above childish name-calling."

He let out a low hiss of frustration. "You're making this extremely difficult, Granger."

Hermione put her hands on her hips. "I never asked for your help, Zabini," she reminded him.

He hesitated for a moment before speaking, and she knew that she'd stumped him. "I'm sorry." He said, and she knew he wasn't lying. "But as you pointed out, I am still a Slytherin. You've got to be patient with me."

Even though she knew that he couldn't see it in the dimness, she closed her eyes and nodded her head once, accepting his apology. "I'm looking for information."

This had caught his attention, she could tell. "What kind of information?"

Her eyes fluttered open and she stepped forward, close enough to him that she could feel his warm breath on her face. "Can I trust you, Blaise?"

"Yes," His earnest reply came less than half a heartbeat later.

"Truly?"

"Truly, Granger."

Hermione's face hardened in seriousness. "You can never tell another soul about this, do you understand?"

"I'm good at keeping secrets." Blaise assured her quietly.

Hermione drew in a sharp breath and was about to tell him, but her recent trust in him wavered. How could she be so certain that he could really be entrusted with what she was about to tell him? He could, after all, in true Slytherin fashion, lie to her face that he won't tell and then do it as soon as she turns her back on him. Her heart thudded, and with each passing moment that trickled by, she looked askance upon her faith in him.

"You've got nothing to lose, Granger." Blaise said, as if he had sensed her doubt. "And if your actions earlier are anything to go by, it looks to me like I'm your only chance of navigating this place without stumbling right into trouble."

He was right. He was right. He was right, and she did need him.

Inhale, exhale.

Everything's going to be alright. I'm going to get what I need and leave, and then I'll never come back to this place again. I can trust him. I have to trust him. He's the only hope I have of getting what I need. What Cedric needs…

"I need a book that can tell me how to bring someone back from the dead."

She could hear the smirk in his voice. "Right this way, then." And then she let him take her hand to lead her.

Cedric, Hermione thought, I'm coming as fast as I can.

"Lucius, my sources tell me that someone has slipped through your security." Voldemort's voice was cold and unforgiving, his blood red eyes locked with Lucius's steel grey ones, which currently resembled twin hurricanes. The firelight glinted off of Voldemort's grey, scaly skin, and his snakelike eyes sparkled with unmistakable fury that had yet to be unleashed. "What say you?"

"My lord, I'm sure that there's been some mistake—," Lucius started, but his Master would have none of it.

"NO!" He shouted vehemently, effectively cutting off his follower's excuse. Lucius stared at him, aghast. "Now," His voice had regained its deadly calm quality, "I trust that you will find your unsolicited houseguest, yes?"

He bowed low, his long white-blonde hair sweeping the ground. "Yes, milord."

"You are dismissed, then." Voldemort turned back toward the fire. As Lucius made his way toward the door, he spoke up again, "And Lucius?" Lucius stopped. "I want you to bring them to me; Nagini's been quite hungry as of late, and the raw meat that you've been so graciously providing hasn't been quite enough to quell her appetite."

His message was clear: It's either you or them; either way, someone's going to die tonight.

And as if to validate that statement, the great snake itself slithered across the hardwood flooring to coil up at Voldemort's dirt-encrusted feet, lifting her head up to be stroked by his long, spiderlike fingers. She let out a soft hiss of approval, her slotted tongue darting out of her mouth and back in.

"I understand."

And with that, he left the room.

They had been walking for what seemed like hours, when in reality could only have been a matter of minutes. A companionable silence had befallen them as they made their way to Blaise's unannounced destination, and Hermione had begun to grow restless. Finally, unable to keep quiet, she broke the silence. "Where are we going, Blaise?"

"The Malfoys, as you know, are famous for their dabbling in the Dark Arts," Blaise said, a fact to which Hermione nodded in acknowledgement, "so they've obviously got countless books on the subject."

"That's why I came," Hermione murmured.

"I figured as much." He led her around a corner and then, finally, by some miracle of Merlin, they were in a lit hallway. Hermione could now see him in his entirety; he wore deep cobalt velvety dress robes and his dark curls were styled to perfection, a lock of curls swept to hang handsomely to one side of his attractive face. "There's a secret library here—very hush hush, if you know what I mean." He said finally, in answer to her earlier question.

"How'd you find out about it?" Hermione questioned.

Blaise shrugged nonchalantly. "Drake hangs out there a lot these days," he replied tiredly.

"Oh," was all Hermione seemed capable of saying in response to that. He was worried about his friend—of course he'd be; Malfoy seemed like he was in way over his head in areas where Voldemort was concerned. And the way Blaise had just thrown those words out there, carelessly, and yet heavy with stress, had made the corners of Hermione's mouth turn down.

It was hard for her to believe, and yet the idea wasn't completely inconceivable: Blaise had aroused the feeling of pity within her; pity for Malfoy and the task that Voldemort had assigned him (which was, no doubt, a dangerous one), pity for Blaise's anxiety over it—pity, even, for the cruel, heartless Lucius Malfoy, because it was his only son, after all.

So Hermione squeezed his hand once, tightly, and murmured, "I'm sorry. That must be really hard for you."

Blaise stopped walking right then, so abruptly that Hermione nearly walked right into him, and wrenched his hand quickly from her grasp, his head bent low.

Hermione recoiled from him as if he'd slapped her, stumbling a couple of steps backward and cradling her hand to her chest. "What was that for?"

There was a beat of silence and then he turned and looked at her, his dark brown eyes meeting her magically-enhanced grey ones, his mouth set in a grim line of determination, and said, "We're here."

Hermione blinked in surprise, her indignation forgotten. "And, um," she started, looking around the dead-end hallway they were standing in, "where's 'here', exactly?"

Blaise stepped forward and brandished his wand from within his dress robes, tapping it on the ornate wallpaper in front of them thrice and murmuring in a low voice, "Revelare secreta tenebris." Though Hermione's Latin was a tad rusty, she managed to translate the sentence surprisingly easily: Reveal the secrets of the dark.

The wallpaper slowly peeled itself away, uncovering the entrance to a hidden stairway that led downwards into darkness. She was afraid to continue, but for Cedric, she was willing to do whatever it took to cure him by that point, so she quickly strode before Blaise into the hole. The smell of dirt, rotted wood, and dust assaulted her nose immediately, but after breathing it for a moment, she got herself used to it. She heard Blaise right behind her, and as soon as he stepped inside the entrance, the wallpaper sealed itself back up and they were plunged into inky blackness. Hermione pulled out her wand. "Lumos," she muttered, and a white orb of light lit up the tip. Her companion copied the motion.

"Be careful, Granger," Blaise warned her, "these stairs are extremely old and could give way at any moment."

Hermione nodded her thanks, and she slowly began her descent. As soon as she stepped on the first stair, she realized that Blaise was right; the old board moaned under her weight. She moved onto the next carefully, and continued on in the same manner for a while. "Where are we?"

"Somewhere underground directly below the Manor," He answered.

Hermione raised her wand up above her head to inspect their surroundings and saw that they were now in an earthen cavern, the dirt-packed ceiling overhead indicating that they were in a cleared out tunnel. With every step after the halfway point, Hermione could feel the temperature steadily dropping the further underground they got. "Why would they make a library so far out of reach?" Hermione couldn't help but ask.

"Drake told me that his ancestors—some of the first descendants of the Malfoy family line, in fact—had built it centuries ago." They kept moving, and Hermione hoped that the end was somewhere near. "It used to only be this dirt tunnel, which they had all sorts of creatures dig out for them, but about three hundred years ago these stairs were built for easier passage."

"But why all the secrecy?" Hermione asked.

"Well, back then, they had information of the darkest sort in the Wizarding World, and there were people who sought out to destroy it—"

It only took a moment for Hermione to put two and two together, "So they built this hidden library so that no one would find it." She finished for him.

"Exactly."

There was still a question that was bothering her, though. "Why hide it now, though? What've they got to lose by having all of the information aboveground?"

"It's for security, mostly," Blaise answered, blowing a puff of air, "but don't hold me to that. Drake knows a lot more about this stuff than I do. Basically, though, it's because the Ministry already looks at the Malfoy family suspiciously, and if some of the things that Draco's read in there when I came with him are anything to show how Dark this information really is, they could get into some huge trouble. And let me tell you—the Dementor's Kiss would be nothing compared to what they would have in store for them."

Hermione's heart filled with dread at his words. There was some dangerous things waiting for her down there. Is this really what I want to do? She found herself thinking, Cedric wouldn't want me to put my neck this far out on the line for him. I could still turn back now.

But she knew that she couldn't; not when the possibility of his cure being somewhere in one of the books in there loomed over her head.

I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't go through with this.

So she pushed all the rest of her negative thoughts away and trudged on, down the creaky stairway to what she hoped was the answer to all of her problems.

There was a man standing outside, no doubt looking for the next victim to capture. "Greyback," Lucius called boredly. The werewolf turned and looked at him, his mouth curling into a wicked smile that showed off his cruel, yellowed fangs. He was quite canine-like in appearance, with his thick brown beard, brown greasy hair, and long grey fingernails that came to sharp points on the ends like claws.

"Lucius!" He chortled, "To what do I give this great pleasure?" His ice-blue eyes sparkled with malevolent excitement, the thought of fresh, warm meat to kill always at the forefront of his mind. And if Fenrir knew one thing, it was that Lucius only ever needed him for that purpose, in the end.

Lucius gave him a disdainful look, but continued on in his usual condescending tone, "I require your tracking abilities."

"And why is that, Malfoy?" he teased pitilessly. "Couldn't get the job done yourself?"

Lucius's eyes flashed with vindictive anger. "Do not question me, Greyback." His voice was lethal. "The Dark Lord has assigned me a mission, which I cannot complete without your help."

Greyback let out a barking laugh. "And if I refuse?"

"Come now," Lucius said, his tone suddenly low and deadly, "you wouldn't really consider that, now would you? You know how handsomely I always repay you for your services."

"Ah," Greyback sighed, "now we're talking about something I can take interest in." He looked at the moon for a moment and then back to the blonde. "What's in it for me this time?"

Lucius smirked darkly. "That's more like it." So he quickly explained to him about the intruder, and that, yes, they had to be brought back to the Dark Lord alive, but that he would take him to St. Mungo's later to have a go at a good handful of the patients there for dinner as payment.

It had taken a long while, but they had finally done it—they had reached the bottom of the stairs and stood in front of the door that led to the secret library. Hermione could sense a powerful aura of dark magic emanating from the room even through the door, which served to both further frighten and excite her. She looked at Blaise, her facial expression completely somber. "Now, you've been a good guide, but if we get caught in here—,"

"Which we won't, by the way—," Blaise interrupted her.

She gave him a stern look and pursed her lips. "Yes, well, theoretically speaking, then, if we get caught in here, we'll both be in seriously big trouble. As in, we'll most likely be killed."

"But we won't get caught, Granger." Blaise repeated again, "No one's going to come looking for us. I doubt anyone really cares right now anyways, since there's a party going on right now and all. Everyone's upstairs in the Manor getting positively smashed right now."

"True, but this place is still crawling with Death Eaters all the same," Hermione said, refusing to be swayed from the topic, "so it's dangerous for you to be here with me. You've helped me get here, and I thank you so much, but you don't have to help me anymore now if you don't want to. You're free to go now if you want."

"And again, no one is going to come looking for us, first and foremost," Blaise was obviously not one to be persuaded, either, obviously, "but secondly, I said I wanted a do-over and I meant it." He sighed. "I'm tired of being looked at as the bad guy, you know? I want to do something to help somebody, something that can be looked at as, I dunno, heroic, maybe? I want the chance to prove that I can do something good for a change."

Hermione stood there for a moment, taking in what he said, and then a face-splitting grin spread across her face. "Well, okay then. You're staying."

"I'm glad you finally see my way on things, Granger." Blaise said, smirking arrogantly.

"Oh, hush up, you." Hermione grumbled, her smile still firmly in place as she whacked him playfully on the arm. They shared a laugh for a minute, and then Hermione got serious, facing the heavy metal door before them, which, she noticed, had no keyhole or handle. "How do we get in here, Blaise?"

"We have to prove that we aren't here to destroy the ancient tomes stored inside."

Hermione arched an eyebrow. "And how do we do that, exactly?"

"We have to touch the door and let it sense our desires for the knowledge it keeps us from."

Hermione hesitated for a moment, looking at the door doubtfully. "But…what if it doesn't accept our desires?"

Blaise stroked his chin mock-thoughtfully. "You know…" he gave her a faux-meditative look, "I'm not sure."

Hermione rolled her eyes at him before turning back to the door. She took a deep breath and, gathering up all of her courage, placed her palm flat against the cool old surface and closed her eyes. All of a sudden, she felt a strange sensation that made her hand tingle, and opened her eyes to see that her hand was glowing.

Why are you here? A voice asked her in her head. It was a female voice, wise-sounding and clear-spoken.

Hermione decided to tell the truth. I want to help my friend. She thought.

What is wrong with your friend that cannot be corrected otherwise?

He is departed, and it is both mine and his wish to bring him back to life. She hesitated a moment before adding, an edge of desperation weaving its way into her thoughts, Please let me come in. This is my last chance to save him before it's too late…

And why does this friend matter so much that you would be willing to risk so much to obtain the information you seek?It was an elementary question, really, but it was hard to answer because she had never admitted the truth to anyone besides herself before.

All of a sudden, a clear image of his smiling face entered her mind, and an air of calm washed over her.

Because I would rather die than see him disappear.

The glow faded from her hand and the tingling stopped, so she withdrew her hand and turned to Blaise, quirking a questioning eyebrow at him. "It should have opened right then," Blaise said, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand and giving Hermione an apologetic look, "I guess it's not going to open…" Tears began to form in Hermione's eyes.

No, it had to open. This couldn't be the end of the line, not after everything she'd had to do to get here. After all of that time spent planning for this night, all of those late nights spent with Cedric, discussing what he'd do as soon as he came back to life again… There was no way that it could be lost. Please, she thought, please open.

She waited with baited breath, and just as her tears were about to spill over, the sound of something unlocking met her ears, and the door slowly, very slowly, opened up. Hermione let out a relieved little half-cry half-laugh, sniffling once as she stepped inside the library before her tears dissipated. She was utterly in awe of the sight before her.

It was the most massive library she'd ever seen—at least quadruple the size of the Hogwarts library, bookshelves lined across the walls and stacked in seemingly endless rows and rows all throughout the room. Books of all shapes and sizes and colors were stacked on each and every shelf, filling every nook and cranny with information. Her eyes were wide as she took it all in, her mouth slightly agape as she turned in circles to get a better view. But the more she looked, the more library she seemed to see, and she was speechless with wonder at its vastness. There had to be hundreds—wait, no, thousands, of books in there. The biggest question was, where would she start looking?

"It's not as big and bad as it looks, trust me," Blaise said, interrupting her train of thought. She turned and looked at him. "there's books written in all sorts of different languages in here, most of which are originals."

Hermione looked back at the room before her. "It's amazing." She murmured.

Blaise just smiled. "Drake loves it here."

Hermione giggled. "I bet he does."

There was a beat of comfortable silence, and then Blaise spoke. "Well, I suppose that now would be a good time to start looking, don't you think?"

"Good point." Hermione agreed, grinning at him. She made her way over to one of the closest bookshelves and saw that the title was written in ancient Sumerian, and so were the rest on that bookshelf. She moved on, quickly immersing herself in the familiarity of being in a library, her fingers gently running over ancient spines of books as she walked past. After a long time, she finally found her way over to the English book section, which had plenty of bookshelves crammed full of books for her to look through.

"How's this one?" Hermione jumped, startled by Blaise's voice after such a long period of quiet. She had been so lost in her search that she'd completely forgotten about him! Her cheeks flushed crimson in embarrassment, but quickly faded when she looked at the burgundy-colored book he held victoriously in his hand. She took it gingerly from him, her fingers tracing over the worn spine. The front cover was so old that the letters for the title weren't even legible anymore, and the pages were so old that they'd yellowed.

Hermione opened it and breathed in the comforting smell of settled dust and aged parchment, a scent she'd grown quite fond of after her countless library escapades at Hogwarts, stowing away in her little nook with an old book like the one she currently held in her possession. She flipped through the pages and saw that the words were still dark enough that she could read them, which was a relief.

"I skimmed over a bit of it, and it seemed to me like a book of spells that yielded extremely powerful results." He explained, despite the fact that Hermione hadn't even questioned him about it. She found the title on one of the first pages: The Extreme Uses of Dark Magic.

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, this one seems like a good one." She gave Blaise a look of gratitude. "Thank you for everything. I don't know what I would've done without you tonight."

He smiled at her and made to say something, but was cut off by a howl, followed by Lucius Malfoy's voice as he shouted, "Show yourself now, filthy little mudblood wench, or Greyback can track you and bring you to me." Hermione's eyes widened in alarm, her whole body freezing over in terror as she looked over at Blaise, who mirrored her horror.

"She's a stubborn one, Lucius—I thought you'd have known that by now." Greyback's jeering voice echoed as he spoke.

"It's obvious that the mudblood wants to play, Greyback." Lucius smirked, his eyes glittering with rage at Hermione's defiance of him. "Bring her to me; the Dark Lord wants her alive!"

Blaise was the first to find his voice. "Granger, you've got to get out of here."

Hermione shook her head, her fear causing her to tremble. "Not without you, Blaise!"

He gave her an easy half-smile, but she could see that he was just as scared as she was all the same. "Don't worry about me. I did what I said I would, but now you've got to get that book back so that you can use it."

Tears began to blur her vision. "I don't want you to get hurt because of me…"

He grabbed her and pulled her close for a tight hug. Hermione hugged him back tightly. "Be brave, Granger. You were in Gryffindor for a reason."

"Game over, mudblood." Greyback's voice brought them back to reality, and Hermione's heart went into double-time as she realized that he had reached their row of books. An evil, twisted grin spread across his face as he took the two of them in. "Well, well, what do we have here?" His eyes glistened wickedly when he saw Blaise standing there. "The Dark Lord won't be pleased, Zabini." He tutted, but his smile grew wider still, reminding Hermione of the demented Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland.

And then he lunged for them.

Blaise shoved her off, suddenly whipping out his wand. "GO!" He shouted at her, giving her a panicked look before bellowing, "Incendio!" Fire burst forth from the tip of his wand, immediately catching on the books around him, and a fire exploded around them. Hermione took it as a good opportunity to take her leave.

As she waved her wand, she cried over the crackling flames, just loud enough for Blaise to hear, "You're a good person, Blaise." And then, with a pop that wasn't heard over the uproar the raging fire created, Hermione was gone.