Draco's cheek smacked against the cold, stone floor. His ears rang as blood rushed to them.
"Welcome home, love." Bellatrix hissed, slamming the barred door of the cell.
Crawling shakily on his knees, he gripped the metal gate. "Please...please, I was...I was spying on them! I was going to bring them to-"
"Crucio!"
Instinctively, he curled into a tight ball and bit his lip until blood filled his mouth; he didn't even feel it in comparison to the spell.
"Tsk tsk, poor little Dwaco." His aunt cackled, walking slowly up the steps. "I'll be back in the morning. Sweet dreams."
As the door at the top of the staircase closed, darkness filled the place which had once been Draco's own cellar. Now, it was transformed into a prison of some kind. Though, he barely noticed. As he lay on the ground feeling weak and shaky, he moaned to anyone who was listening.
"I'm not...I'm not with them. I was...just...not..."
"Malfoy? What the hell er you doin' here?" A familiar voice asked suddenly. It was slightly gruff, but warm and kind at the same time.
Lifting himself strenuously, Draco squinted through the door of his cell. Across the hall, behind another row of bars, an extremely large man stood, holding a candle.
"Hagrid?" He coughed, wiping blood away from his chin.
"Poor boy, you aren't lookin' too good." The half-giant shook his head. Then, he muttered to himself, "Never liked him much, but he's just a kid. Can't believe they'd put their own kin down 'ere."
At that moment, Draco went into a fit of coughs, clutching at his ribs, which burned like they were braking.
"Oh, Malfoy. You sound real terrible. Here, er, drink this!"
The sound of ceramic scraping across stone echoed and a teacup hit Draco in the foot, splashing lukewarm liquid onto his ankle.
"Well? Drink up." Hagrid instructed.
Slowly, the younger man lifted the cup to his lips and sipped half heartedly. The taste of strong tea and something sharp met his tongue.
"What the hell is that?" He cringed, glaring at Hagrid.
"Oh! I'm sorry 'bout that. Forgot I put a little firewhisky in there. Well, best drink it anyway. I dare say you could use a little relief right now."
A moment of silence passed between the two.
"Well, if yer not gonna drink it, I'll be having tha' back, but don't act like you've never had firewhisky before. I know the Gryffindors used to smuggle in drinks, so there's no doubt in my mind that Slytherin did the same."
"No, I'm gonna drink it!" Draco snapped, scrunching his nose in annoyance. Lifting the strange concoction to his lips, he downed it in one swig; the knowledge of its content making him more eager.
"There ya go. That'll fix you up nice and easy. Here, take this too. Merlin knows you need it more than I do."
A blanket flew threw the bars and landed at the blond boy's feet. Pulling it on, he leaned against the wall. "Why are you here?" Draco demanded, far more rudely than he intended.
Another silent moment passed.
"Well, ever since..." Hagrid sniffled, blowing his nose loudly on his sleeve, "since Harry's passin' they've been keeping me here to take care of the dragons. The poor little fellers didn't do nothin' wrong, but now they gotta serve The Dark Lord just because they were born as dragons! An' he don't even let me give 'em sweets, or rub their bellies after dinner. I have to give 'em rabbit meat because it makes 'em frisky and then they're faster, but they don' even like rabbit! It makes Amber sick, too. And when she gets sick the poor girl throws up and sets everything on fire. But I tried to tell the Carrow bastards that an' they wouldn't hear it." At this point the grown man was a blubbering mess with tears flowing down his large cheeks. Draco stared awkwardly, wishing he would pull himself together.
After a few moments, Hagrid blew his nose once more and took a deep breath. "Well, anyway, tha's me tale. What about you? What'd you have to do to get thrown down 'ere?"
Draco sighed, feeling a grinding pain in his lungs. "I was with Weasly and Granger-"
"Ron and 'ermione are alive?" He shouted, gripping the bars loudly.
"I don't know-"
"What do ya mean you don' know?" The half-giant suddenly looked very angry.
Alarmed, Draco's voice raised several octaves, coming out as a squeak. "Well, I was at the camp when my aunt came and set it all on fire-"
"What camp?"
"I don't know! Longbottom and-"
"Neville? So, tha' must mean there's still a rebellion!" He laughed, wiping a tear away from his eye.
"I don't know if they survived."
"Oh, they did. A little fire can't best my kids!" He looked like a proud father. "Never thought you'd join them, though."
"I didn't. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"Shut yet trap! You're afraid, is what you are. Don't want to say that ya did the right thing for once. I'll tell you, Malfoy. Dying a selfless man is always more rewarding in the long run than living as a selfish coward."
Feeling guilt's cold hand gripping his chest, Draco studied the stone floor.
"Yer dad knew that." Hagrid added quietly.
Hermione gripped her blanket tightly, willing herself to fall asleep. Maybe once she woke up, she would discover that it had all been a dream; a hideous, smoke-filled dream. It was a silly thing to hope for, but it was how she had dealt with Harry's death. Night after night, telling herself that the next day, she would sit up in the hospital wing of Hogwarts with Harry and Ron smiling down at her. It was so unlike her usual, logical self, but she wasn't herself. It was hard to say if she ever would be again.
"'Mione?" A voice whispered, jostling her into alertness.
She sat up, squinting across the dying embers of the fire. All around her were groups of people, sleeping in circles around remnants of campfires. It had been 3:00am by the time everyone had arrived at the new campsite and Neville had announced that he had not been able to salvage any of the tents. No one batted an eye; they were all too tired to care.
"Ron? Is that you?" Hermione asked, trying to keep her tear-laced voice quiet.
"Yeah. Is everything alright?"
Unable to answer, she shook her head.
Before she knew it, Ron had sat beside her and put his arms around her shoulders. Gently kissing her on her head, he spoke into her hair, "Are you crying?"
Instantly, she broke down in tears, holding tightly to his arm. "Oh Ron! I'm so...so sorry...it really is my fault! I don't know what's the matter with me..."
"Shh," he soothed, rocking her slowly, "There is absolutely nothing wrong with you. The problem is with that son of a hippogriff, Malfoy. He tricked every last one of us. You know what? I bet that poster was all a part of their plan! He probably didn't really save a muggle-born. And...bloody hell! I'll bet a hundred galleons You-Know-Who cursed Malfoy's arm himself because he knew that we wouldn't just let him die!"
"I should've seen that all coming though-"
"How? Bloody hell, even Laverne De Montmorency, or whatever her effing name is, couldn't figure out a scheme that complicated, and she was supposed to be a genius!"
"Lilac De Moivre, Ron. Laverne invented the love potion." Hermione laughed, wiping her eyes.
"Well, I was close at least. Look, trusting Malfoy was a mistake, but I've made mistakes too! I left you and Harry in the middle of the woods for Merlin's sake! We lost a few tents. So what? Everyone is safe. No one got hurt. And now Malfoy probably thinks we're dead, so no one will come looking for us! We have the advantage here!"
"Oh Ron, you're the best person in the world!" She burst out. And, tossing her arms around his neck, she kissed him on the lips.
He held her tightly, rubbing her back. After a moment, they broke apart and she rested her head on his shoulder. "I love you Hermione. It's always been you. From the moment you insulted my spell on the Hogwarts Express."
She laughed, pulling the blanket over them both, "To my credit, it was a truly awful spell."
"Yeah, your right. But, if it weren't for that rubbish spell, you wouldn't have noticed me." He laid down, letting Hermione rest her head on his arm.
"That's not true-" she started, but he kissed her gently before she could argue.
"Good night." He grinned.
In legends of old, The Veil is said to be the barrier between the land of the living and that of the dead. One cannot travel freely between the two worlds. Once a soul has passed through, it is impossible to get back.
The Dark Lord's pale, thin finger traced the words on the yellowing scroll. "Impossible is such a disgusting word." He hissed, scratching the last line with his nail.
...
A/N Hey Guys! Please don't hate me! *Hides* I know... I haven't updated in almost a month now. I really do promise not to make a habit of it! I love writing this story. I am officially done with the musical I was in. (It went great, thanks for all the well-wishes!) I was also sick for a week after the show, so that was fun. But, I don't really think that those are great excuses. Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter! Expect another one soon. Please don't forget to follow, favorite, and REVIEW!
Thank you to all of the people that review! You have no idea how much I appreciate you guys. Every time I get a new review, I smile for the rest of the day, You guys are truly amazing. :) A very special thanks to: ElsaElphieGinny, DaOneInDaCorner, notsing, AllHellBrokeLoose666, Wonderlic, Fire fly, and the Guest reviewer! You guys rock. :)