Chapter 12

Rivals and Failures II

Darkness was all around her, a silent black emptiness that seemed to fill everything. She lifted a hand and waved it across her face. She couldn't see it, yet she could feel the faint breeze that fell across her face gently. It felt as she was at the edge of space with nothing before her but a black empty expanse.

Yes, it was defiantly dark. In fact could it get any darker? She pondered the idea dully before sighing. It was strange what things happened to the mind when there was nothing to focus on or do. She couldn't fight it anymore, she had to get up.

Hermione had been awake for the last two hours having woken up in the middle of the night; she guessed; and having been unable to fall back to sleep. At first she had tried, her body screamed in fatigue of the occurrences with Mae the previous day but her mind was fully awake and no amount of attempts would let her settle. The previous conversation spinning like a storm in her mind, mixing with memories of Harry and Ron, of her life before the Dark Lord came to power. Of Zabini's cruel remarks, Lucius Malfoy's treatment and hatred of her and what she represented. The deep mortification of knowing Draco Malfoy had reduced her to this life all because of an accidental hex. She hated them for what they had turned her into. A snivelling shell of what she had been. She hated the Dark Lord more then she had thought possible and now she hated his followers with as much loathing and fury. Without them Voldemort would have fallen to Harry and peace and happiness would have reigned years ago. Never in her life had she craved revenge as much as she did that moment. To make them feel an ounce of what she felt.

It was this rage she apprehensively let her body embrace over the night, letting her mind remember how such emotions allowed a strength she hadn't felt for a long time. It was odd, she never considered herself to be an angry person when she was younger, frustrated at times and impatient maybe but not angry; yet she gripped this hot feeling of resentment and fury as if it were an old friend. By the time she had decided to get up she no longer tried to smother these emotions with fear of what she might do but allowed them control. Letting them create an almost logical calm in her mind. It was a state she had attempted to accomplish before the war started, to help calm down when fear or adrenaline kicked in; something she had attempted to teach Harry, quell his urge to run into battle blindly. For the first time however it was beginning to work and she welcomed the silence it brought into her mind. It effortlessly simplified her problem; she either had to escape or die here. Simple. Her mind was made in seconds despite her dread and beating heart never voicing what needed to be done and the dangers involved. Before such risks and plans were made however she needed to get up.

Pulling back the blankets she gingerly crossed the room hands outstretched. She wasn't afraid of the dark, it was what the dark contained that frightened her, but she knew at that moment in time she was alone. Her fingertips eventually made contact with the smooth wooden door. Feeling dumbly she found the handle and very slowly opened the door. It didn't squeak. Silence met her ears.

Stepping into the hallway she ignored her hammering heart and the sense that the moment her foot came into contact with the hallway carpet she would be set upon by hexes. The hall was beginning to fill with a very pale light. Taking a breath she stepped out of the room. Nothing happened. Just as her brain rationalised, what point was there in locking her in, her only escape was by foot and she doubted she would get far before they found her.

Moving to the window that rested down the hall from her room, Hermione looked out at the land and sky before her. It was not yet sunrise but it would soon be. She tapped the window frame lightly with her fingers as she looked out down below.

What should she do now? The thought of facing the day made her stomach clench with nerves. The silence of the corridor seemed to press down upon her shoulders heavily. Tiptoeing back to the room she went to shut the door but decided to leave it open, by an inch. The room really did smell stale, something she hadn't noticed before. She also noticed the need of a shower and brushing her hair, her teeth and a change of clothes… a long list but it wasn't imperative to do everything right now, she thought. Small steps… best to ease into the day slowly.

Despite the desire to attempt a second escape she knew her body was not as strong as it used to be. She needed to rebuild her strength and mind. She knew a well laid plan would be better then something quick and improvised; besides it didn't take a genius to know she didn't work best on spontaneity. Research was how she looked at it; she needed experience and an understanding of her surroundings before she could begin to entertain ideas of when and where and how.

Turning on the light she made her bed; unsure why but feeling better for it. People would be up soon, she wouldn't have the opportunity to have a good look around now. She would have to face the day and wait for tonight. She pushed the thoughts aside of the days trials 'don't think about it, don't think about it' she muttered gazing around the room slowly taking in the details to distract her mind.

Her eyes fell across the small chest at the bottom of her bed with her belongings. She almost laughed, they weren't her belongings. She hadn't bought them, chosen them. She remembered the book that was resting inside. Kneeling beside the chest she opened it up carefully, finding the book laying flat on the items inside. Pulling it out she opened to the first page. As she read the first sentence it was as if she had sunk into a hot bath after a long day. Calm flooded her senses and before long she had finished the page and was moving onto the next one. She wasn't sure it was a muggle book or a wizard written one. She found the very idea of a muggle book situated in the Zabini mansion ludicrous. Yet it didn't matter, she could deal with the poor characterization, the thin plot line. All that really mattered was that she was finally doing something she loved, something she feared she would never do again.

A tentative knock came from the door causing Hermione to look up. After a pause it slowly opened and Becky carefully peered into the room as if anxious that something may suddenly attack her. Upon seeing Hermione's odd look she entered the room fully with an uneasy smile.

"Good morning" she greeted, her voice sounding slightly too cheerful for the time of day, or lack of it Hermione thought.

"Morning" Hermione replied her voice dry, still holding the book.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, thank you" Hermione lied.

"That's good". There was a long pause in which Hermione silently flicked a corner page and Becky fiddled with a loose hem of her apron. Lifting her head up the girl watched Hermione cautiously, opening her mouth slightly, seeming to want to ask something but kept thinking the better of it closing her mouth once more, unaware she was staring.

Hermione closed the book silently and placed it by her side feeling uncomfortable under the potent gaze. Visibly shaking her head snapping her out of her stupor Becky spoke, "I came to see if you were ready to come and get some breakfast"

"Already?" Hermione questioned surprised.

"Yes, well it just gone eight and we thought, I mean to say that Mae thought it would be nice to have a lie in but she didn't think you'd be down this late, that of course doesn't mean you're in troub-"

"It's eight o'clock!"

"Yes…"

Hermione jumped to her feet causing Becky to take a step back abruptly and cling to the door handle behind her. She'd spent the last few hours reading and hadn't realised! She could have kicked herself over her stupidity; she could have at least had a small look around at her floor of the house or planned something useful.

"What's the matter?" Becky asked her voice barley above a whisper, not wishing to spook the girl.

"Nothing… I didn't realise it was so late" Hermione mumbled her cheeks flushing. She resisted the urge to stamp her feet as she half listened to Becky's weak conversation as she seemed to decide Hermione wasn't going to rampage.

"We'd better hurry down stairs then" the girl finished turning back to the door. "Actually, it might be best if you go and wash up first…" she added taking Hermione's appearance into consideration. "It might make you feel better" she hurried not wishing to sound insulting. She rushed to the set of draws and pulled out a couple of towels and passed them to Hermione who remained where she stood taking them with her jaw slightly clenched, deciding not to comment on the woman's anxious treatment of her. Clearly Mae had told the workers something of her being locked away and that something caused another knot of worry in Hermione's already nauseated stomach. From Becky's treatment she wouldn't be surprised if people thought her an actual criminal, put in Azkaban for some horrendous crime. Blaize must have been cheated into buying her, hence his parent's furious reaction. She supposed it was a miracle in itself nobody had learned of her identity after all the shouting Blaize's father did.

"Well, that's everything then" Becky finished with a large smile which didn't even reach her nose never mind her eyes.

Hermione thanked her shortly and the woman was gone in seconds. Despite the odd behaviour Hermione was privately pleased. Becky's behaviour had planted a seed of irritation in her fear ridden emotions of facing the day. She had been worried about facing everyone downstairs but it was clear they were probably afraid of her. Her lips twitched in humour, she never felt scary to others before, well perhaps by Ron and Harry but she knew it hadn't been truly heartfelt; the lower years had been more scared of her prefect badge then her. Clutching the towels and clothing she had been given she stuck out her chin and before she gave her conscious time to dwell on the situation she forced herself out of the room.

Her progress had grown from strength to strength. She had showered, brushed her teeth and all that she had feared was a spider that had crawled suddenly from under the shower carpet. She had brushed her hair and crossed the threshold to and from the bathroom and her confidence had not extinguished. She could hardly believe the change in her person… then she reached the top of the servant stairs. Her well suppressed fears and thoughts had exploded from there prison in her mind. She froze one hand on the banister both feet planted firmly on the top floor. Her heart pounded furiously, a sweat broke out over her body despite the chills that swept through her veins.

She just couldn't go down, couldn't face the horror of seeing the Deatheater's again, the harsh words of death. She just couldn't do it. So she stood still as ice, the knuckles of her right hand which clasped the banister turning white from the exertion of her grip.

"I knew you were a coward!" a cold voice bit out.

The words were like the spark of a candle in the darkness. Suddenly her heart was full of anger and her eyes set into perfect focus.

'I am no coward' Hermione thought viciously, I've been through to much to be stopped by a jealous deranged muggle. Her statement gave strength to her feet and she stepped forward striding down the steps. As she passed Emily on the corner steps she found herself looking her in the eyes, aware the girl had hoped to intimidate.

"I lost myself for a moment there, thank you your voice brought me back" Hermione smiled nastily.

Emily gave her an incredulous glare before turning her defeat into a sneer and pushing past. She stopped before continuing down the stairs and turned back to Hermione who had not moved from the encounter.

"After you then" she said maliciously obviously changing her mind about going up stairs, deciding to see how Hermione would continue. With Emily behind her as an incentive, Hermione knew she couldn't panic and return to her room. The only way was to move forward or turn back and face Emily admitting she was truly terrified and defeated… something she refused to do. She would find Ron and she would help destroy everyone who had caused her pain. The thought of Ron brought a small joy to her heart and the assurance she needed. She would find Ron, if he didn't come for her first. If she had made the front page of the prophet she wouldn't be surprised if he wasn't outside right now, preparing an attack. That thought was the biggest incentive she had felt all week.

She stepped down the hall aware of Emily slowly trailing after her. Taking the long hallway she silently took a breath and pushed open the door into the kitchen. Eyes looked up from where they were working to see who had entered. Hermione had expected stares, awkward silence but none came. Everyone smiled and a few asked how she was feeling. Mae appeared in the doorframe which led outside and upon seeing Hermione made a small noise in her throat and everyone returned to there business.

"You'll be wanting the breakfast that you missed I take it, luckily Tupy saved some for you" she said bluntly stepping over to the stove dodging two small house elves; one of which smiled nervously at her and pinked. Mae pulled down the door of the stove and pulled out a bowl containing porridge.

"Here you go" she passed the warm bowl to Hermione and went in search of a spoon. "Sit over there" Mae ordered pointing to the sideboard where a stool sat at the edge of the room. Sitting down Hermione waited for the cutlery as she gazed around the room surprised at how easy it had been. Her heart sank as Emily entered but she couldn't help but smirk as Emily's face fell at Hermione's treatment.

"Emily what are you doing down here, I thought I told you clean the fire place in the second bedroom?" Mae demanded fiercely staring down at the girl, hands at her hips.

"Yes, I just-" Emily began, her nerve breaking as Mae glared down at her.

"No excuses!" she turned the girl around and pushed her out the door before turning back and striding over to Hermione and passing her the spoon. "Take that smug look off your face and eat your food. There's a lot to be done today and you're already behind." She gave Hermione a small smile before it vanished as she began barking orders to a house elf who was sneakily adding salt to a soup. "I've told you it doesn't need it!"

Hermione silently ate her porridge more greedily then she had felt the night before. Her stomach responded pleasantly and within a few minutes she had finished. She sat in silence for a long moment watching with a dull pleasantness at the action around her enjoying the sensation of being pushed to the background of people's attention. However this emotion dulled to a slight boredom and her brain flared into awakening. She cast her eyes carefully around the kitchen trying to take in every detail. There were three fireplaces, two only large enough to be considered for floo travel. There were no jars nearby with the powder that she could see like the Weasley's used. Not that she expected any; she doubted there would be any in the kitchen. That was probably kept in a locked container somewhere else in the house. Floo travel however brought up uncomfortable questions of the charm Zabini had placed on the bracelet around her wrist. Would she still be able to floo with it? Would her body travel to a point leaving her arm left behind? An image of her arm being ripped off mid travel did not appeal. Her hope deflated, perhaps floo wasn't the best idea after all. If she wanted out, the first problem she'd have to tackle was the charm; and for that she would need a wand.

"Hermione" a voice barked making her jump. "Snap out of your day dreaming, if you have time to do that you've got time to work" Mae chided taking her bowl giving it a satisfied look. "You'll find Becky upstairs in Abigail's room. Off you go she'll tell you what needs doing"

It took Hermione a few seconds to shake herself from her mass plotting. She nodded and stood from the stool heading out of the kitchen her brow furrowed in thought. Just before she left a twinge of terror take her she turned back to Mae her mouth open ready to spit out her fear.

"They're not here" Mae muttered passing her with a number of bowls. Hermione visibly relaxed and gave a small smile of gratitude.

"Off you go then" Mae demanded before returning back to the bustle of the kitchen.

As she took the narrow stairs no longer dragged down by the dread of seeing the Zabini's Hermione realised she didn't know what room belong to Abigail. Or rooms, she thought bitterly, surprised by her wave of pettiness. Despite attempting to smother the fact, the house owned by the Zabini's was beautiful. She wondered if things had turned out differently if she would have lived comfortably, albeit not in such splendour as these walls; perhaps a house with a few bedrooms and her own library. The thought brought a new wave of anger and resentment. She would escape from this hell and no matter what.

As she came onto the first landing she stepped through the small oak door onto a rich green carpeted hall. Becky had shown her around the house but thinking back she had no clue as to what half the rooms contained. She had only worked on the small rooms and work rooms such as the polish room and laundry room. The spare bedrooms were situated on the other side of the gigantic house and most of the time she had followed someone or other. Now alone in the silent sun lit corridor she had no clue where to start.

She cursed the absurdly of so many rooms that probably went unused and still had to be maintained. Sighing she reached for the first door of many that trailed the long corridor. She pushed down the ornate handle, momentarily wondering if it was made from real silver (another blow of hatred towards her captives) and found it to be locked. She gave it a stronger twist but the door refused to open. She made a mental note, wondering what darkness lurked behind the door. She moved down the passage to the next door and found it locked also. Not dwelling she silently stepped to the third; she was pleased to find this door opened to her.

Inside she found a lavish bathroom larger then the Gryffindor common room and muttered irritably as to why three baths were needed. Closing the door not bothering to explore the room she continued on her trek of the first floor. After finding two more spare bedrooms; again raising opinions as to whether the Zabini family ever had hundreds of friends to stay or if past generations just seriously miscalculated the amount of offspring they believed were necessary, Hermione found another unlocked door. A lush comfortable modest sized living area was located containing a walk in wardrobe full of women's clothing. Dresses hung against bursting wardrobes and chests and draws covered neatly with hat boxes and smaller cases Hermione could only guess holding jewellery and other luxuries Mrs Zabini enjoyed but had no room in her own quarters. This room took more will to move away from. Only the fear of being caught among such splendours caused her to close the door on her natural female desires. She wondered what had ever happened to her Yule Ball dress. Or the dress she had worn on her first official date with Ron… She clenched her teeth against such thoughts, she would not return to such a desolate shell lost in her memories. Detached was safer for the moment then letting her weak emotions burst through again.

The last door she found brought a wave of triumph as she strode into a large cream room full of toys. She cast a sharp look around the room and was disappointed to find the only door led to a small bathroom. No bed. The first thing her eyes sought out was the fireplace, unlike the one found in the bedrooms and small lounge this one seemed possible to stand in for floo travel. No floo powder was available, not that Hermione expected any but she stored its uses away in her mind.

The playroom upon inspection was full of expensive toys, both for girls and boys. Dolls lay neatly on shelves their porcelain faces reflecting the warm light from the windows. A beautiful ivy legged white table built for a young girl was at the centre of the room with matching chairs perfect for tea parties, accentuated by the delicate china that was placed upon it. At the edge of the room stood a rack holding four child broomsticks which Hermione recognised were built to go barely a foot and a half from the ground all in pristine condition. Beside the brooms resting on a rug stood a large miniature quidditch stadium. She moved closer and found a large box containing many charmed quidditch player flying around inside, tiny balls just seen moving around them. Hermione felt a dry humour as many of the charms had worn away with age and most players rested at the bottom twitching, still on there brooms; those in the air moving slowly and without direction.

Beside the fireplace a spacious train set twisted along the floor, its black train shining in the sunlight. Perhaps Blaize had once spent many hours playing innocently with his trains; she located a miniature version of the Hogwarts express placed neatly on a shelf, a number of detailed carriages ordered beside it. The thought made her cringe, had Blaize and others who followed The Dark Lord once been innocent children unknowing of the evil that would soon take them. Had they been more concerned with sneaking into the playroom late at night without there parents knowledge, then who would control the country. She hoped that not everyone chose the path of dark magic naturally. But to be raised by The Dark Lord's followers would leave little room to question another life. Perhaps some thought they were on the right path, that this world was what it should be. The idea made her queasy. She hasty left the room, uncomfortable at the thoughts it raised.

Having run out of doors she trailed back and went up to the next floor. She immediately noticed the difference. Everything was much richer, more luxurious; the carpet thicker, windows wider the paint less neutral replaced by mahogany panelling and Syltherine green walls. She knew she was in the correct direction from the portraits that lined the walls orderly every meter or so. Portraits labelling past Zabini ancestors and family sittings. She hurried to a pair of double doors ignoring the dark haughty glares of the eyes following her suspiciously, thankfully not speaking. As she passed them she noticed that they were all rather plain looking, light brown hair, long flat noses muddy brown eyes. The mean superior looks the only clue to there rich heritage with dark magic. In fact as she reached the doors she realised Blaize and Abigail looked nothing like their father and the previous Zabini's. It was their mother that they had inherited there tanned skin and attractive bone structure. Not that it mattered; in Hermione's opinion Blaize was as attractive as his Grandfathers before him.

The door she had entered was the one of two available in the corridor that she could see, the carpet leading to more unexplored territory around the corner further down.

Trying the handle she was relieved to find it unlocked and nearly fell into the room with the force of escaping so many dark eyes with the matching sneer of Blaize's father.

She froze one hand still clasping the handle of the door the other in a tight fist as she stared into the silent musty smelling room. Her eyes widened in wonder and appreciation as she stared around at the large shelved room with books stacked neatly all over. Her heart stopped momentarily as she took a deep calming breath taking in the heavenly scent that was only caused by old warn books and parchment. Her face relaxed and she closed her eyes enjoying the smell that tickled her nose. She stepped inside unable to stop herself, not caring for its risks. A large fireplace stood to the right a desk facing it in the centre of the room. Shelves placed around the walls, turning into rows behind the desk to her right. Above these shelves a floor had been built reaching halfway across the room above the shelves into a fenced gallery, creating more space for shelves; reached by narrow twisting iron stairs hidden in the corner of the room. The room was perfect, some might have considered it cramp compared to the rest of the house due to the amount of book shelves ordered inside but to Hermione it was ideal. A space in which a person could hide away in the back curled up in a worn armchair with a good book.

She knew the mansion had a library, but that was downstairs and Hermione had never had the opportunity to enter as whenever she had tried Mae always appeared with a need for an extra pair of hands.

This she assumed was a private library. She cast a look behind her and hurried to the door slowly drawing her head out slightly listening for any life. Unable to resist the pull of her heart she closed the door and ran to the nearest shelf, promising to have a quick look before searching once more for Abigail's room. She reached out with a hesitant finger and gently touched the binder of a leather book. She drew her fingers across a number of spines as she had done back in Hogwarts library her finger making a slight tapping noise. She couldn't help the smile that burst from her lips. She stepped closer reading each title taking in all the information they were willing to share once read. Most on the current shelf were potion books. They weren't ordered alphabetically but grouped together in a random yet privately ordered manner Hermione could slightly understand. The next shelf along merged into transfiguration and her fingers twitched to pull out many she had never heard of before. Taking a dark red felt book from its place she opened it randomly and greedily took in its knowledge. She looked up from her read too impatient and in nervous rush to read another before it was too late. She replaced the book and began her hunt for something else.

Within seconds her awakened mind began to notice that despite many of the books being specialist and complex spell books, potions and other subjects, there were no dangerous dark magic books. Something she expected this house to be riddled with. Shelves she had expected rivalling that of Hogwarts restricted section, worse in fact. Yet there was none that she could see. She frowned and found her eyes slowly drawn to the second floor; shelves easily seen through the iron banister that protected the perimeter of the floors edge. These books were darker in colour and worn. She strained her eyes to see further but could only make out aged books on dark shelves that were clearly placed together and separate from all others below.

That was where the dark arts and important books were held she knew it. She felt a spark of excitement and danger; perhaps there she could find a spell that would break the charm Zabini held over her allowing her to escape. Her face turned resolute. There was only one way to find out. She moved through the rows heading for the stairs.

"What on earth are you doing in here!" a shrill voice screeched. Hermione jumped violently releasing a choked scream falling into a shelf bringing a large number down with her onto the floor. She looked up horrified into the eyes of Mae. The woman stared down at her, the woman's face white with rage. She grabbed Hermione painfully by the arm and dragged her to her feet. Pulling her away from the shelf she stared down at the mess of books on the floor.

"Look what you've done! The Master is the only one who orders his books, he'll know someone was in here" she cried angrily. Hermione despite rooted to the floor in terror at being caught could hear the fear in the woman's voice. Mae turned on her, glaring deathly. She used her height to her advantage looming down on the frail girl.

"How the hell did you get in here?" she demanded her voice now a sudden dangerous whisper. "Where is it?"

Hermione stared at her in a confused stupor, her heart ready to beat from her chest.

"Tell me!" Mae shouted, causing Hermione to flitch. "God help you Hermione if I'm killed for your stupidity. Give it to me!" she thrust her hand out expectantly.

Hermione threw her hands in front of her before clasping them together bringing them close to stop herself from visibly shaking, Mae's temper and words of warning striking fear into her heart. "I don't have anything, what… what are you-" she began shakily her voice refusing to come, tears forming in her eyes. Clearly this area was restricted and she had put both herself and Mae in danger being here.

"Don't lie to me, the wand!" Mae's cheeks began to turn red as she tried to calm herself but failing. Hermione's reaction of surprise and confusion did nothing to calm her.

"What wand?" Hermione managed to squeak out, eyes wide. Had she been accused of stealing?

"Don't lie to me. This room is charmed shut. To enter you need a wand. Only a Zabini can get in here. A little difficult seeing as none of them are currently home!"

"I don't have a wand… it was already open"

Mae stepped forward taking Hermione by the arm. Hermione felt unable to pull away from the woman's dark judging eyes to even register the contact.

"Have you been in the master bedroom?" Mae asked her slowly, her voice dangerously calm. Hermione shook her head viciously. Mae's eyes narrowed to slits, her lips pursed so much they formed a thin pale line.

"Swear, on everything that has ever mattered to you" she ordered.

Hermione nodded, and then swallowed realizing this wasn't enough. "I swear" she added with all her feeling. Mae continued to stare down at her viciously and all Hermione could do was stare anxiously back. Slowly however the iron grip on her arm loosened and Hermione fell back unbalanced, unaware Mae had almost lifted her off of her feet. She gripped her arm as the blood rushed back painfully. Mae was staring around the room taking in every detail. Her dark gaze fell on the top floor and seemed to pause on a particular shelf.

"Did you go up there?" she asked not pulling her gaze away. Her voice calmer but cracking slightly from her sudden outburst.

"No" Hermione whispered wiping away a tear with her palm.

"Good" Mae said simply turning back. Her expression turned guilty suddenly and she took an intake of breath her hand resting on her lips.

"Forgive me, I…" she paused taking another deep breath eyes closed. When she opened them a calm visage remained.

"This room is out of bounds" she stepped forward and placed a hand upon Hermione's shoulders ignoring the flitch Hermione couldn't repress and gently but solidly took her out of the room.

"I'm sorry I didn't know… I was looking for Abigail's room and I got lost"

"You have no business in this side of the house. Abigail's room is this way." She told her stoically. She set off down the hall sharply motioning Hermione to follow. They turned the corner and moved down the hall passing another double door before reaching a main landing by the main staircase that led to the first floor. Passing the main stairs they travelled a few yards and Mae stopped outside a pair of white double doors.

"This is the only room you may have any business in on this floor. Do you understand?"

Hermione nodded, "What about the spare rooms?" she added as a thought, unsure if they were included.

"I don't want you doing them anymore. In fact this floor is off limits to you do you understand?" she answered finishing with the same question. Her voice slow as though talking to a child.

"Yes"

"Good, forget what you saw in that library, you have no need for what ever is in there"

Hermione nodded again. "Good, Becky's finished in here now. You'll find her in the laundry room, I want you shadowing her for a few days understand?" she didn't wait for an answer merely pushing Hermione back towards the staircase.

Hermione walked back to the kitchens her shaking beginning to settle as she thought over what had happened. Mae had been furious, that was clear. The woman had been scared witless, and her parting words of warning were like fire in her mind. 'You have no need for whatever is in there', for the first time Hermione felt herself grow with a pleasant realisation. She smirked ever so slightly her mind waking up from its long slumber. Mae's parting words giving answers to questions Hermione needed. In that room was something she needed. She knew it.

The fireplace was as big as that of the Burrows, perfect for floo travel. The room was charmed shut, meaning it was dangerous to outsiders, such as those trying escape. The room must be linked to the floo network, and what's more Hermione was sure she saw a pot beside the fire as she was pulled from the room. The only questions that remained were how to break the ownership charm and how Hermione had gotten into the private library in the first place. The first question didn't seem as daunting now Mae had spilt a clue in her rage. True it would be dangerous and that filled her with fear and dread but she had no choice. Mae believed her to have stolen a wand; clearly there was one in the house, most likely on the second floor. And if she was correct, in the master bedroom. She needed to get back onto the floor and more importantly the private library.

A.N. Blimey it's been a while hasn't it! Life's been on overdrive and I lost the enjoyment in writing. However your reviews have spurred me on to keep adding to this chapter to push through it and I hope its length will make up for how long it's been, if only a little Please, Please review, if you like it! As it is a great help to keep me on track and spurs me on