Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Harry Potter, except those that clearly aren't from J.K. Rowling's stories. And since I expect anyone reading this by now to be a complete HP aficionado, I'm sure you'll know which ones they are.
Chapter 19 — Dark Exploits
They touched down in a dark London alleyway.
"Where are we?" Hermione whispered, peering around the trash-lined passage.
"We're behind Diagon Alley. Give me a minute."
Hermione watched as Draco rooted around in the garbage with his boots, surreptitiously blasting away several small heaps of litter until he found an old grating in the ground with a small crest carved into it that no amount of wind or rain could erode.
"This is the back entrance to my vault," Draco explained as he beckoned Hermione over. "The paper Rubeknuke made me read gave the instructions for how to get inside."
"But I've never heard of Gringotts vaults having back entrances," Hermione marveled.
"That's not surprising: my family is not the most trusting. If I recall the stories correctly, my ancestors killed the goblins that helped them build these back doors. They wanted to be able to access their vaults without anybody knowing they could. I doubt that anyone outside my family is even aware this entrance exists."
"You make it sound as if this was done a long time ago, but that grate is far too modern!"
"Every decade or so, someone from my family comes by to ensure that the entrance stays current to the times. Here we go."
Draco tapped the grate twice and murmured a low incantation. Obediently, it snapped open.
Hermione peered into the slimy sewer hole it revealed with distaste. "Not that I doubt you, but are you sure this is the right place?"
Draco took her hand. "Just hold onto me and you'll be fine. Ready? One, two, three, JUMP!"
Hermione gasped as they plunged into the sewer, but no splash of rancid water engulfed her body, nor did greasy sludge scrape onto her arms. Instead, she was falling, falling as she had always feared she would fall, and this time Draco could not possibly catch her; they were both going to die—
The rushing in her ears suddenly stopped, and once again Hermione felt firm ground beneath her feet.
"There now, that wasn't so bad," came Draco's placid comment.
Hermione just glared.
"Lumos."
The light of Draco's wand revealed a large vault carved from black obsidian; jeweled goblets and small mountains of gold decorated the floorscape, and shelf upon shelf of repulsive treasures threaded the walls.
"Is that…skin?" Hermione asked, unable to tear her eyes away from a horrible multi-tan tapestry.
"Uh, huh. I think that was the Beaumont clan."
Hermione shuddered, and let go of Draco's hand.
He didn't notice. He was too busy scouring the walls for the cup from his dreams — the cup he had seen the last time he was here without realizing what it was.
"There it is."
Hermione followed his pointing finger to the gleam of gold just visible upon an upper shelf. Excitement coursed through her, enflamed by adrenaline left over from her fall.
"I'll get it!" she cried. Hermione braced herself on a lower shelf and stretched up on her tiptoes, reaching for the golden handle.
"Hermione, don't!" Draco shouted, just as her fingertip snared the handle. Pain lanced through her hand, and she jerked it back with a cry, causing the cup to tip over the side and strike her cheek.
Pain blinded Hermione as she collapsed onto the ground, and then Draco was there, wiping away her tears and apologizing over and over again for not warning her, that he should have known about the charm.
"What was it?" she gasped, the act of talking causing a fresh wave of agony in her face. Draco stroked the burn on her cheek and murmured an elementary healing spell; immediately, the pain faded away into nothing.
"Sometimes when a wizard has something very important they want to keep safe, they'll charm their vault so that no one but the vault's owner can touch its contents. If anyone — even a goblin — touches something inside, they'll get burned just like you did, and the treasure they touch will multiply. I should have guessed that Aunt Bellatrix would have used such a spell, when she had a Horcrux to protect."
"Multiply?"
Hermione gazed, aghast, at where the cup had fallen to the floor. Now there lay fifty such cups, all identical.
"Oh, no! Now we have fifty Horcruxes!"
"Only one of them is real."
"But how will we ever know which is the right one?"
"Touch me," Draco commanded. "As long as you're touching me, the spell can't affect you. See?" He placed his hand on Hermione's shoulder, and she saw that around one cup, a silvery aura was pulsing gently, indicating the true treasure.
Draco let her go and walked over to where the cup lay, picking it up with distaste and stowing it away deep inside his cloak pocket.
He offered Hermione a hand up. She took it and pulled herself to her feet, arriving a little too close to Draco. Inexplicably, she found herself flushing with a heat that had nothing to do with a spell.
"So you want me to touch you?" she whispered, placing a palm upon Draco's chest with great daring. Beneath his shirt, she could feel his heart starting to race.
"Careful, Granger," he whispered back. "You can't run away from me here."
Hermione shivered as Draco's breath tickled the hairs on her head. Relief at having obtained a Horcrux, combined with the excitement of leaving Hogwarts at night without permission and the terror of her fall and the burning cup, made her bold. "Who says I want to run away?"
Draco growled low in his throat and pushed Hermione backwards until she was pressed against a table. The expensive wood bit into Hermione's back, but she paid it no heed as Draco ducked his head, his lips trailing along her jawline and making her shiver again before he turned his attention to her mouth—
A loud CRACK made them leap apart.
"Crucio!" a cruel female voice cast. Draco pulled Hermione out of the way of the vivid blue light and shot off a stunning spell that was immediately blocked.
"Accio broom!" he shouted. An explosion of splinters showered them both as his aunt's next curse struck the Nimbus.
Casting counter-curses behind his back, Draco pressed his palm against the vault door; it gave way before them not a moment too soon. Bellatrix's death curse erupted against the opposing wall.
It was impossible to navigate the tunnels of Gringotts unless one had a goblin — everyone knew that. But Draco Malfoy did not plan to navigate the tunnels.
"Come on!" he shouted, dragging Hermione toward the dragon that guarded the vault; the noise had awoken it and it was shaking its head in groggy vexation, its tongue lashing out as it blindly searched for the source of the disturbance. Hermione drew back instinctively, but then hastened forward, jumping over its tongue and climbing after Draco onto the dragon's back. When it came down to Bellatrix and a dragon, Hermione knew which one she preferred.
"Relashio!"
The chains on the dragon snapped apart under the force of Draco's spell. With a roar of comprehension that it was free, the dragon leapt forward, tumbling through the tunnels until the passageways grew wide enough for it to stretch its wings. With three great beats, it was airborne, heaving ungracefully through the darkness like a falcon just learning to fly. With a bone-rattling screech, it launched itself through the roof of the tunnel, causing rocks and dirt to tumble down onto Draco and Hermione, almost knocking them from their precarious perch on the dragon's back. An instant later, they were free and soaring into the bluing sky of a London dawn.
Chapter 19 Summary:
Hermione and Draco break into the Black family's Gringott vault to steal a horcrux, and end up dueling Bellatrix Lestrange.