Hermione was drowning.
Water came around from all sides until it washed over her head, and she lost all sense of space. She clutched something close to her chest as it started sinking her down deeper and deeper, but she couldn't let go, she knew she couldn't. All was dark but a momentary flash before her, and she swam up to that light, hoping it was the surface. She gasped when her head reached above the water. The lightning bolted.
Where was she? What was she doing? For a long moment, Hermione only gasped for breath, disoriented and confused, shivering from the freezing water. Then she looked down at the gold cup in her hands, and realization slowly crossed her mind.
She was in Bellatrix's vault where she found Voldemort's Horcrux. There was someone else with her…
"Hermione!" she heard an awful, panicked howl echo through the space.
She didn't know where the sound was coming from, but she shouted back, "I'm here!"
She thrashed in the water, trying not to let the Horcrux sink her down, but it was really hard.
Then, she saw them in the lightning-brightened sky.
Dementors.
Hermione's eyes widened and she screamed, "Malfoy, where are you!"
No one answered. She started swimming blindly to where she thought she heard him. She swam and swam and swam and there seemed no end to it. Strangely, the Dementors weren't attacking her. They were all collected in one place.
That's where she needed to be. "Malfoy!" she cried, swimming closer.
Suddenly she saw a shock of pure white hair shining in complete blackness. Malfoy was barely floating and the Dementors were attacking him from all sides, feeding on his feelings. Hermione swam faster and she finally reached him, grabbing him by the shoulder. His horror-filled eyes turned to her.
"Hermione…" he whispered breathlessly.
"I'm here…" she assured him, trying to hold both him and the cup on the surface. "Malfoy, you need to get your wand and cast a Patronus!"
He started shuffling in his robes underwater as if only now realizing he had a wand. Finaly, Malfoy found it and lifted it in his hand.
"Expecto—expecto—Patronum…"
The end of the wand cast a short blast of light, but it immediately disappeared. Hermione pushed herself closer to him, desperately grasping his body. "You need to think of a happy memory! Come on!"
"Expecto—Patronum!" he screamed, and it echoed through. The blast was longer this time, but far from enough.
Hermione started looking for her wand, but she didn't know which one to let go, Malfoy or the Horcrux to find it, so she said, "Take the cup!" and gave it to Malfoy who grasped it with trembling hands. She lifted the wand in one hand while holding Malfoy with the other. For some reason, the Dementors kept on only attacking Malfoy and not her, even when she raised her wand to fight them. Still, it didn't make her task any easier.
"Expecto Patronum!" A light, but not a Patronus. Think of something happy, think of something happy. She thought about her parents, their last day together coming to mind. "Expecto Patronum!" Still nothing. She thought about Malfoy and what could've been if they lived different lives. She thought of what they could've been now if they saw each other for who they truly were in the sixth year at Hogwarts, "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
A wave of light shot up out of her wand, conjuring a form of an animal she wasn't expecting. Her Patronus was an otter – a small but mighty animal. This Patronus was anything but small. It roared and flashed its leather-like wings, banishing all the Dementors away from Malfoy until they had nowhere else to go from its might but out.
The divine animal cast by her was a dragon.
She stared at it, appalled, it's shine illuminating the darkness.
Together with the Dementors, the water started lessening too, the darkness blurred, and they were falling.
Hermione gasped in surprise and her dragon disappeared.
They were in the vault again. But that's what it always was. Just a vault. None of it was real.
Hermione was all wet and Malfoy was too. He was laying on the ground, breathing heavily with a cup in his hands. She crawled to him. "Hey, Malfoy, it's over, it's all over, it wasn't real… Are you okay?"
His eyes fluttered open, and he swallowed thickly, nodding. His face was ashy and sweaty. Hermione touched his cheek. "We need to leave," she whispered. "Can you stand?"
After some trial and error, they finally stood up and went out of the vault. Malfoy still looked horribly sick, but they needed to get out of there without causing any suspicions. She quickly cast a drying spell on them both.
Malfoy leaned against the wall with his whole body and closed his eyes. Hermione went to him.
"How are you feeling?" she asked.
"I'll live," he said quietly without opening his eyes.
"Will you be able to get us home?" she asked.
His eyes shot open. He stood up straight. He still seemed sick but determined now. "Yes."
"You might want to put on your mask. You look very pale. It might cause questions."
He nodded and hid his face. They went down to the main floor of Gringotts without any happenings, and the goblins did not seem suspicious that they spent more than five hours there. They didn't speak while walking down Diagon Alley, but Hermione noticed that Malfoy was walking a bit unsteadily, so she tried to put some of his weight on herself. When they finally got out of the Alley, he mustered all his strength and Apparated.
They got back to the Malfoy Manor. The moment their feet reached the carpet of the living room, Malfoy fell to his knees, his body shivering. Hermione dropped the cup, went to take him by the shoulders and helped him sit on the couch.
"I'm fine, I'm fine," he murmured when she was about to take off his cloak and shoes.
"Those Dementors attacked you viciously," Hermione said. Malfoy sat down on the couch and pushed his palms to his eyes. She caressed his shoulder. She couldn't imagine the horrors he'd seen, the horrors he'd been through, the horrors he'd caused to be affected by the Dementors that way. "I'll get you something from the lab, it'll help with the sickness."
She brought a vial of grayish liquid. He drank it all in one gulp and leaned back on the sofa. Hermione waited for a minute, then asked, "Better?"
He hummed. "Yes. Thank you."
Malfoy looked at her, fully conscious now.
"That was your Patronus?" he asked.
"Well… yes, I think so. My Patronus used to be an otter, but I don't think it is anymore."
Malfoy frowned, "They can change?"
"I think they can if something life-altering or traumatizing happens. I've never encountered anything like it, though." She went quiet for a moment, thinking about the dragon. "What's your Patronus?" she asked.
His expression clouded over. "I don't know."
"You mean—"
"I mean I've never managed to cast it. So I don't know what it looks like. Maybe I don't have it."
"Everybody has it," Hermione countered. How could a pureblood boy from a rich family who was raised surrounded by luxury and attention be unable to cast a Patronus? There was an answer to that, of course. Because all his happiest memories are now tainted with terror.
"Maybe murderers like me don't deserve to have a guardian," Malfoy drawled. Then he studied her face. "Thank you for saving me, Granger."
She still remembered the way he shouted her name in the dark and shivered from it.
"See, you would've regretted it so much if you hadn't brought me with you," she pointed out, trying to keep him conscious for a bit longer so that the healing potion worked better.
Malfoy's wrecked lip corner quivered. "You'll never shut up about it, will you?"
She smiled softly, shaking her head. "No." They were silent for a few minutes. Then, she offered, "You know what, why don't we leave the Horcrux business for tomorrow." She noticed how his body slumped on the sofa, exhausted. "I'll wake up early and go to Hogwarts to retrieve some Basilisk fangs."
"No, do it now, and let's be done with it," he gritted through his teeth.
"But we don't have anything to destroy it with—"
"We do." Hermione raised her eyebrows. "I have the sword."
She sighed, "A sword won't destroy a Horcrux."
"I don't have just any sword, Granger, I have the Gryffindor sword," he groaned.
Hermione blinked. "You mean the Gryffindor sword? You? But it's only—"
"Only those who show bravery can have it, and so on. You don't really believe that fairy tale, do you? It's a story for kids."
Hermione frowned, "Where did you get it?"
"Snape gave it to me a few years ago."
"Any particular reason?" she asked.
Malfoy's face stiffened. "No reason," he deadpanned which made her certain there was a reason. "Now go get that sword and destroy that sodding Horcrux."
Hermione raised her hands in defense. "I already destroyed a Horcrux and I'm not doing that again. It's your turn."
He didn't seem to be in any capacity to do a task of such magnitude, and she was certain he will refuse, secretly hoping he would, but he surprised her by getting off the sofa.
Malfoy glared at her as if he wished to strangle her with his bare arms. "You're incredibly annoying, Granger," he mused but went to grab the cup, gesturing for her to follow him.
They went to one of his rooms where she'd never been before. And there, behind a glass frame on his wall stood the Gryffindor sword – in such perfect condition Hermione started to doubt if it was real. They'll find out soon.
Malfoy took out the sword, dragging it to the ground after him, and they went to the backyard.
He threw the cup on the grayish grass, the gold of it seeming green in the moonlight. He lifted the sword—
A demonic shriek pierced through the whole territory of Malfoy Manor. A distorted, white-washed figure of Lucius Malfoy – proud and regal and as mocking as ever – shot out of the Horcrux, looming before them, its snake-like eyes piercing through his son—through Malfoy.
Malfoy's eyes widened and he took a step back, lowering the sword. The shrieking didn't stop, but Malfoy seemed not to hear it as he said, "Father…" looking at the figure before him hypnotized.
Voldemort Lucius Malfoy sneered. "You dare call me father after you fraternize with mudbloods, traitors, and other low breeds?" it hissed. "I always knew you were worthless, nothing more than a disappointment, undeserving of the Malfoy name…"
Hermione saw Malfoy's hands begin to shake.
"No, it's not real!" she screamed. "It's not Lucius, it's You-Know-Who, he's trying to hurt you on purpose!"
Her voice did something to him because Malfoy turned his head to the side and looked at her, then raised the sword again, slicing the cup.
Not deep enough.
Another figure appeared next to Voldemort Lucius – a female form. Hermione gasped when she saw it was Narcissa. Her face was contorted with disgust, her white-black hair looming around her head like snakes.
Hermione tried to scream, but the wind of power pushed her farther away, and her scream was overwhelmed by Voldemort Narcissa's voice, "We did so much for you, we sacrificed our lives for you, we gave you all you ever wanted, and this is how you thank us? By loving a—" Voldemort Narcisa's voice got blurted out by the wind in Hermione's ears, but she saw Malfoy's frightened expression turn brutal. He looked at her where she was now on the ground on her back, unable to stand up, and for a crazy moment, she thought he would slice the sword through her.
But he hit the Horcrux. Once, twice, thrice, until she stopped counting, and Voldemort's abominations resembling his parents disappeared—still he kept on wrecking the cup, his eyes wild ablaze, his lips sneered like a wild animal's, his white hair tousled. Then, Malfoy was finished and went to her, heaving. The mad expression he wore just now was gone – he was that same cold man, only breathing a bit more heavily.
He reached out his hand for her and she took it, getting to her feet. Malfoy still held the sword in his hand – it looked bloody in the dead of the night.
"How are you?" she asked carefully.
Malfoy looked at her. "I need a drink."
Hermione desperately needed a drink, too.