A/N: I would just like to say that I am really sorry that there is always a lot of wait-time between chapters. I will try to work on that (I think there was about 2 months between my last two chapters), but I can't promise anything until summer. During summer, you should get a new chapter at least once a week, except for in August because I'm going to Africa. Much love to all my faithful readers. Sorry this chapter is short. The next one will be too, but I'll try to get the it up within a week.

Chapter 10: The Catacombs

Hermione didn't return to Malfoy's room immediately. She stared at the open door for a minute and then went into her room and took a quick, hot shower. Her mind and stomach were all in knots at the thought of going back to Malfoy's room. She hadn't the faintest idea what to think of him or his behaviour or…well, any of it really. He had been so nice to her last night, and even that morning. The Malfoy that Harry and Ron had sworn as their enemy, the one that Hermione had disliked almost as much, seemed completely gone now.

And Hermione couldn't excuse the warm, squirmy feeling she got when she thought of him.

"Oh, stop that, Hermione, you're being ridiculous," she told herself as she got dressed and brushed her hair out. "You like Ron, remember? The sweet redhead across the hall." Hermione looked down at he clothes and sighed. "And now you're practically getting dressed up for him. Where is your head, Hermione?" she scolded herself as she changed her shirt into a more casual one. She stepped out into the hall, took a deep breath, and returned to Malfoy's room.

"I was beginning to wonder if you were really coming back," Malfoy remarked upon her entry.

Hermione flushed, but said nothing. He waved his wand and her tea from earlier wafted over to her. She plucked the floating cup out of the air and walked over to the window again. "Clear skies today," she commented.

Malfoy was quiet. An awkward tenseness stretched over the room between them, a chasm that neither could reach across. For half a second, Hermione wished fervently that the room was dark, so that she and Malfoy could talk freely. "I—I just realized I have something to do," she stammered, when the silence was too forced. "Thanks for the—the tea."

Hermione set the cup on the windowsill and hurried out of the room. She shoved her key into the lock of her door and yanked it open, then closed it quickly once she was inside. Shaking her head, she sighed. Good one, Hermione, she sarcastically complimented herself.

The streets were meticulously cobbled and crowded with tourists. Hermione, Harry, Ron and Malfoy wove their way through the throng, heading for the cathedral. Though the masonry and stones were chipping, the building was still magnificent. "Do you see that statue, there, the one with the wings? It's supposed to symbolize…" Hermione began to chatter as she stared at the structure, noting things about its architecture that she had read about previously.

Harry and Ron went up the steps and pulled open the doors, and she continued to point out the designs and their meanings to the boys (who ignored her, for the most part, although Malfoy was looking around with just as much interest as she). They stopped in the middle of the aisle, and Harry turned. "Where are we going?"

Malfoy's eyes examined the room carefully, then pointed near the altar, where a small door stood to the side. A stained glass window bathed the stone in fractured rainbows and Hermione shivered—somehow the colors only made the door look more ominous. The four teenagers meandered around the room, and made their way into a corner, where Harry whipped out his invisibility cloak and they carefully slipped under it. There was hardly room to walk beneath it, but they returned to the door and stood in front of it. "Alohomora," Hermione whispered, tapping the knob with her wand.

There were two soft clicks, and Hermione looked around nervously. Ron pulled open the door and they inched inside. Breathing a sigh of relief, Harry pulled off the invisibility cloak and tucked it away into a pocket, then they all cast lumos so they could see their way. The light revealed a short passage before them, vanishing into a long spiral stairway downwards. "Where are we, Malfoy?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know," he said quietly.

"What do you mean, you don't know?" Ron asked him in an angry whisper.

Harry wobbled and Hermione reached out to steady him. "Harry, are you all right?" she asked worriedly. Ron and Malfoy were silent; Harry leaned up against the stone wall and breathed heavily.

"Yeah…yeah, I'm fine," he panted. "He…he was here, Hermione."

"When?" Hermione asked him.

"I don't know," Harry said, "But I can feel him." Hermione reached up and lightly brushed the hair off of his forehead. His scar shone darkly against his pale face.

"Will you be all right?"

Harry nodded and heaved himself off the wall. Malfoy was standing at the head of the stairs, looking downwards. The trio approached him cautiously and he began to lead the way down silently. The farther down they went, the grimmer Malfoy's expression became when he suddenly stopped. "Granger, I don't like this."

"What is it?"

"I don't know—that's what scares me." This last he said more quietly, so only she could hear.

They at last came to the bottom of the steps, and everyone was uneasy. Ron nervously shuffled his feet, while Malfoy and Harry stood stock still with their eyes closed tight as they fought their own inner battles. Hermione gazed around warily, then announced, "I know where we are. We're in the catacombs."

The four cautiously made their way between the tombs, and suddenly Harry stopped, grasping his head tightly in his hands. Ron helped to support him and Hermione approached nervously. Harry hadn't reacted like this when they had retrieved the cup, and it concerned Hermione. She glanced over her shoulder at Malfoy. He was standing with his legs set wide, defensively, but his wand was held loosely at his side and his head was bowed. "Malfoy?"

He didn't move. Hermione was torn between staying by Harry's side and going to Malfoy, whose stance seemed so wrong to her that she was deeply unsettled. Ron met her eyes and she indicated that he should care for Harry and then went to stand by Malfoy. His posture sent her heart racing. "What's wrong?"

"Inferi," Malfoy said, and looked at her. His voice was hollow, his face haunted and confused. "I don't understand."

Hermione stared at him, puzzled, and then slowly turned to look the way he had been facing. "What? But…" Now that Malfoy had pointed them out to her, Hermione could see all the inferi just a little farther down the corridor. The ground was littered with their twice-dead bodies, their limbs shredded and flesh mangled. Killing inferi was notoriously difficult to do, especially without the use of fire, but not a single one of the bodies were so much as singed.

"What are we—" Ron cut off mid-sentence and gave a low whistle. "That's…"

"Impressive?" Harry offered when Ron didn't finish. His breathing was still labored and sweat glistened on his face but he was standing on his own.

"Disturbing," Ron amended. "Whoever did this…"

"Is more than a match for us," Malfoy said.

"Should we turn back?" Hermione asked nervously.

"No," Harry said decisively. "We've come this far. And at least we don't have to deal with all of these things."

The other three exchanged wary looks but did as Harry had directed and continued on their way. The deeper into the catacombs that the group traveled, the more dead inferi they saw. At last they came to a heavy wooden door. Malfoy stood in front of it and Hermione noticed he was shaking. She put a hand to his arm in concern but he brushed it off, pressing his fingers into the wood to see what spell held it closed.

"It demands a life," he said reluctantly. "But…the price has already been paid." Malfoy reached out and turned the knob. The door swung open. Inside were a few fully-grown mandrakes, but they were dead, their bodies slashed to pieces and their blood splattered all over the walls. Hermione gagged, and it was the only sound in the room. Two manticores lay slain and dismembered at the foot of a pedestal.

Harry stood at the door with Hermione while Malfoy and Ron grimly picked their way across the floor and to the pedestal. Ron reached out and grabbed the small object upon it, then brought it back to the pair by the door. All four stared at it. "It's real," Malfoy verified.

Puzzled, they all looked at each other. "But why would someone come through and kill all of the obstacles only to leave behind the Horcrux?"

Ron was staring at Malfoy suspiciously, but he and Hermione had locked eyes. They were both thinking the same thing. "We need to get out of here," Malfoy said.

"Now," Hermione agreed. Ron opened his mouth to argue but Hermione and Malfoy had already begun walking down the path of dead inferi. He turned back and helped Harry to stumble forward, back to the exit. They hurried as best they could, following the dim bobbing lights from the tips of Hermione and Malfoy's wands.

Hermione and Malfoy stopped at the stairs to wait for Harry and Ron. "Do you swear you haven't betrayed us?" Hermione asked Malfoy.

The blond sneered at her in disgust. "Still don't trust me, do you?"

She hesitated. "I do trust you. That's why I'm asking you this. Look, no matter what, Harry has to get out of here alive. I want you to go before him and guard him. I'll watch behind." Hermione looked around their dank surroundings nervously. If it was a trap, all of it, they had just as much a chance of being ambushed from inside the cathedral as within the catacombs.

When Harry and Ron made it to them, Harry's eyes were glassy and dazed. Hermione looked at Harry in concern, then around to the two other boys. There wasn't time for conversation, though, and Malfoy started up the steps. Harry and Ron went up together, and Hermione spared one last look for the dark around her before she began to follow them up.

They were about halfway up the spiral staircase when Hermione heard the distinct cracking and popping of Apparating behind her. The four of them froze for half and instant, then Harry gave a muffled scream and they all broke into a run. The Death Eaters shouted behind them and raced after, but the teenagers had a head start. Hermione shot spells over her shoulder as they went, and managed to shield most of the ones that came up from below.

Hermione heard the heavy wooden door shatter as Malfoy got there and he led them all through without pause. Hermione stopped and charmed the wood splinters to create a wall of spikes in place of the door, then did a few other spells to delay the Death Eaters, if only for a moment. The boys were already making their way through the cathedral and Hermione hurried after them frantically. The stained-glass windows cast myriad colors over the four of them as they raced through the narrow aisle between the pews.

A few feet from the door, Hermione stopped and jerked on the sleeve of Harry's shirt. He turned to her and she pressed her keys into his hand. "Go," she said. "I'll keep them busy. Apparate as soon as you're out of the citadel and come back for my car later."

"Hermione—"

"Go!"

"We're not leaving without you," Ron said, turning back and grabbing her shoulders. "Come on, we've got to get out of here."

"No, you've got to get out of here. Keep Harry safe, Ron."

"But Herm—"

Hermione leaned forward and kissed Ron quickly on the mouth. "Please, Ron, go. Keep him safe."

"Hermione…"

"Malfoy, get them out of here," she said angrily.

Malfoy gripped both boys by their upper arms just as the Death Eaters made it up into the cathedral at last. As they careened into the pews and shattered them with spells, the blond pulled Hermione's best friends out the door. She turned grimly to the Death Eaters, clutching her wand tightly in her hand.

"You fools," Voldemort hissed. "How could you let them get away? I can't believe the incompetence that I am surrounded with."

"Please, my lord," one Death Eater pleaded, "they were already up the stairs. We thought they were still going to be on their way to the room so we could catch them on the way back."

"Yes, yes, we killed all the creatures like you told us to. Even lost Dolohov to one of the manticores," said another. "If everything had just been timed right, we would've been able to capture them all."

"And the item—the item that you were supposed to be guarding?" Voldemort said archly. He already knew the answer.

No one spoke. Voldemort hissed between his teeth disapprovingly and kicked the nearest Death Eater. The man whimpered and rolled on the floor but did not object to the treatment.

"My lord, we did—we did manage to capture one of them."

"Did you really? I'm actually quite surprised, with how much you bungled up the whole operation. Which one was it?"

"The girl. She's in the dungeons right now, cell number 47. Would you like us to bring her up?"

"No, no, I shall see her later, at my own convenience. In the meantime, you all shall be punished for your mistakes and will immediately begin searching for the remaining three. Is that understood?"

"Yes, my lord," everyone murmured, and then the Death Eaters got neatly into a line, alphabetically, so they could be punished.

Draco came to with a splitting headache, and looked over to where Potter slept. The boy was sleeping uneasily, and the sheets were tangled around him. Weasley lay silently beside him, awake but glassy-eyed. He was probably in shock or something equally ridiculous.

Draco had been cat-napping all night, and in his periods of wakefulness he was sitting tense and on-guard for any danger or mulling over how to save Hermione. If he thought about it, he was a little jealous that she had kissed Weasley and not him, but Draco was going to wait until they had saved her before he got angry over something as petty as that. Maybe he had misjudged their relationship and she really did fancy the detestable redhead.

For some time now a—a thing (he dared not call it a plan, not just yet) had been blossoming in his mind. Draco had always prided himself on being able to scheme and lie his way out of any situation. Saving Granger would take some preparation if his thing was going to be successful, but he was confident that, with careful planning, it would work. He would need to get some help from a few old (and rather shady) friends of his too. Potter and Weasley wouldn't like it.

They didn't have much of a choice. "I have an idea," Draco announced. It was a few minutes before Weasley so much as twitched his gaze up to him, and another long moment before Potter's eyes fluttered open and, still looking up at the ceiling, asked, "Well?"

Goodness knows I saw it coming
Or at least I'll claim I did
But in truth I'm lost for words

--Snow Patrol, "Chocolate"