Disclaimer: I'm just a toddler in the JKRowling's sandbox, nothing more than that.
...
-Dirty Days-
It was dark; it was always dark when they were on the move.
She was dirty, a dirtiness that she could never wash off, try as she might. She could have rubbed herself until she was pink and raw all over, but she still felt dirty.
Hunger was a constant that she trained herself to ignore, but Ron insisted that she eat what little food they had to sustain herself.
Ron. Ron disappeared occasionally to bring her food or lead her into a protected shelter that would shield and protect her. Many times she told him he need not do it, but he insisted. Dumbledore's orders, he said.
Though she had a notion that it wasn't just because their now late Headmaster had told him to do protect her either. Ron isn't one to just follow orders because he respected someone.
Muffled guilt rang through her body whenever he risked his life just for her sake because she knew… no matter how hard he tried to keep her safe, he would gain nothing of substance from it. She would never be his, or anybody else's for that matter. A long time ago, she gave herself to a boy without realizing it, a boy who did the exact same thing. He broke down the walls to her heart, only to destroy it from the inside.
She had been too foolish to take just take his hand and run. Her encounter with Mark haunted her now. So she rethought about her last day at Hogwarts constantly. What was he thinking, she would ask, knowing he couldn't answer her. Why would he kill her best friend?
A nagging thought told her that it was because she had chosen them over her. A tinier voice told her there was something wrong with that. She didn't really believe that Draco would do that. Not anymore. That's why it was so wrong… the entire thing was so wrong.
And when she wasn't thinking about that day, she thought about her and Ron's bleak situation. Today she thought about one memory in particular. After a few days on the run from Voldemort and his merry band of Death Eaters, when she and Ron were especially worn out and broken down, she didgive herself to him.
Her heart wasn't in it. And her motions mechanical at best. But dearest Ron seemed to enjoy it enough, so she didn't stop him. Whatever solace he could find, she wasn't going to take away from him. And this payment to him was nothing to her. She just simply didn't care enough.
Because she didn't really give herself to him. She gave him her body. A paltry consolation prize for Ron. Ron who wanted more.
The day after, Ron had become reborn as a territorial protector, with a renewed fervor.
Now, months into their run, a cage here or there in the mountains was the best that could be found. Their options were obviously now limited as Voldemort's forces penetrated the ministry and forced other governments to bow to his will. They were then marked as wanted criminals with heavy bounties on their heads. The last she heard was that she had a fifty thousand galleon sum for her head while Ron had been only at thirty five thousand.
No one would want to help them. Not in these times…
Occasionally, they would venture into towns not yet fully caught in Voldemort's stranglehold. It was during those times when Hermione overhead the secret murmurings among the townspeople talking of a resistance formed under none other than Neville Longbottom. That made her smile, or at least the muscles in her face fixed themselves into a semblance of a smile. It didn't happen a lot, so she really couldn't tell or remember for that matter.
Though, there was never enough to actually point either of them to a location. Ron would've brought her there immediately.
That made her pause in her thoughts. There was a lot of done for the sake of her safety. But things ended up horribly anyway.
Harry wanted her safe, he died. Draco killed him… she had come to terms with this now. She made Draco kill him. She had long since subdued the thought that told her otherwise, but it occasionally showed up when he had more strength.
Draco wanted her safe, he died. By Zabini. Just another tally on the board of reasons why she wanted Zabini to be punished.
Dumbledore wanted her safe, he died. She had heard among the murmurs that he had died protecting the school. But it still wasn't enough. Hogwarts was no more.
And now, Ron. Ron wants her safe, and she was fairly certain she was killing him. He was dying from the unrequited love, though he never showed any signs of pain.
Maybe, she slowly concluded, if people stopped caring about me, then maybe they wouldn't have to die… or suffer in Ron's case.
She sighed.
She often thought of such things when Ron was away either hunting or scavenging, he never let her leave the spot, just like a wife, just like his own little doll to play house with.
Rustling came from behind the trees, she couldn't quite see past them. Ron picked this particular spot for her because others couldn't look in, but looking out seemed to be a problem now too.
It worried her, Ron didn't usually make any noises upon his return. But, she thought, he had been tired when he left, very tired. Maybe he was just getting careless? The sane thought them dead, so why not? Though… the greedy and insane believed them very much alive.
More rustling. She readied her wand.
A voice sounded, not Ron's, and told her to come out. "Come out, Hermione, I know you're there."
Hermione realized that he must've not been able to break the ward and enter the magical barrier Hermione cast whenever Ron left. ConstantVigilance. She shivered.
She could tell that the voice was male. But weak. He had short quick gasps of breaths in between taunting her.
"Come out, Hermione. I won't hurt you. Unless you want me to…" Another short gasp. "We can have so much fun, you and me."
It was time for her to leave. Ron had once told her, that if anything like this should happen, should they ever be discovered, she should leave and he'd find her. He assured her that he would find her.
The man tried to heckle her once more, "It's not like you'll have someone else to keep you company for a long time, my sweet little mudblood."
Silence, save for the man's breathing.
"You see, I've killed that blood traitor friend of yours. He didn't go as easy as I thought, but once he did. He was gone." He laughed slowly before continuing once more. "What's that? Don't believe me?" The man threw something towards where he guessed Hermione was laying, and it passed the barrier.
The item skidded to a stop before her. It was a wand, obviously broken. Unicorn hair peaked out. It was Ron's wand. Hermione recognized the marks on the willow wood used to make it.
In the abyss that were her emotions, it should have been impossible for her to feel something, but she did.
She had already snapped once before, so it was not possible for her to break again. Would this mean that Ron's death is causing her to reconnect the loose ends of her emotions and rationale?
Calculatingly, she lowered the wards, and the man noticed.
"Oh, little mudblood. Are we getting tired? Well, not to worry. I'll finish what I started months ago at Hogwarts. It's just bricks and ash now, did you know? Nothing there, took care of with the other Death Eaters."
Hermione tensed as he stepped closer. It couldn't have been him…
Another step closer. He was just behind the leaves now.
Another step closer. She could see his face now. The same face in her memories. Yes. It was Blaise Zabini come to torture her and finish the job.
She didn't let the smile linger on his face for long. "Reducto!" She screamed.
Zabini fell back into the trees, and Hermione approached his prone body.
She kicked him in the ribs. Hard. She kicked him again. For good measure. She took his wand, broke it, and set it ablaze. Backstepping into the cave, she picked up Ron's own wand, worth only for its sentimental value now, and tucked it away into a bag with the rest of her meager belongings.
She wanted to kill him quickly, but she knew that that was too good for a man like him. Instead, she divested him of all of his clothing and adornments, and tied him with the strips of cloth she made from them.
Zabini was levitated into the cave. A large rock soon followed, blocking the entrance for good. Hermione's magical barrier recast to ensure his demise.
But first, she wanted answers. She had been away from reality for far too long, kept away by Ron's protection. So she waited until she heard yelling from the inside to signal his return to consciousness.
She asked him about what Voldemort was doing now. He didn't answer.
She asked him again. He didn't answer.
She asked him continuously. But he never answered.
But that was okay, every time he didn't comply with her wishes, the barrier shocked him. And for the first time in a while, she felt real emotions. It brought her something she distinguished as great joy to watch him suffer with every refusal.
"You realize that it will keep shocking you until you answer, don't you?" She asked, amused.
Silence.
"Well, that's fine with me. It'll just keep shocking you."
"Why don't you ask me about Malfoy?"
She didn't feel amused any longer.
"What about him?" She finally grounded out.
"Oh you know. I'm sure you've had questions. Why did he leave? Why did he kill Potter? Why did he… betray you, perhaps?"
He was right. She did want to know. She would be lying if she said otherwise.
"Suppose it wouldn't hurt to answer some of those questions for you. After all, you've been quite gracious." Laughter. Softer now, the shocks combined with his previous injuries were getting to him. "It was all because of you."
Hermione's eyebrows furrowed and her vision clouded.
"Don't toy with me Zabini. This is not your day."
"Worry not, Granger. I'm telling you truthfully. I promise onmyowngrave that I'm telling the truth. It was because of you. I had noticed Malfoy's pureblooded ideologies slip away from him as the years went on. He didn't care about torturing mudbloods anymore. His companionship for you, sealed his fate. I told the Dark Lord everything I saw. That he had saved you, a mudblood, instead of helping me punish you. The Dark Lord didn't seem to like that. So he began to notice too. And then, it was time. Poof. Potter dies by Malfoy's hands. Malfoy dies by my hands. And we all fall down. But you know what the funny part is?"
"No. Zabini. What in your sick little mind makes you think any of that is funny?"
"It's Malfoy. Did you really think Malfoy killed Potter?"
Hermione paused, her vision gone. "… I know what I saw."
Laughter. "I'm sure you do. But you didn't see before. Oh, how Malfoy struggled. He just didn't want to listen. I think it had something to do with not wanting to hurt anybody. The fool. And you've been thinking he killed Potter all this time. Isn't life wonderful?"
"… You used the Imperius Curse on him?"
"Correct, Miss Granger. Ten points to what's left of Gryffindor! Go ahead now, kill me. I don't care. Death doesn't scare me. Kill me!" He commanded her. "Little Malfoy dies because of his little mudblood."
More emotions flocked to Hermione. Her heart started hurting again. A love, not yet blossomed, destroyed all the same.
And then she felt it again. Just like the last time she felt it in Dumbledore's office: anger. An old friend to her. With an eerie calm, she called out to him.
"You're quite smart Zabini. You shouldn't fear death. You should fear me."
Fire was slow burning, sins needed to be cleansed, so what better way?
Hermione chose Fiendfyre. Fiendfyre just like that day.
And that was that. She laughed. He would suffer until he died.
Though she still thought death was too good for him, she did not want to be bothered with keeping him alive solely to torture him. She had better things to do. She had to survive… though she had little desire to. She would go on for those who died for her.
It was dark. And she was oh so very dirty.
Just like that day.
…
The end… or sorts. To the first installment anyway.
I really do apologize for the crappy/inconsistent writing/plot. I just really want to get it out there.
Also, I don't want to leave things off again for years for the sequel, so if somebody would like to occasionally yell at me to keep updating, I'd like that. Thank you!