Thanks to everyone who has followed and/or favourited since I last updated. Special thanks to hotgirlow, Hollowg1rl and Kyonomiko for their lovely reviews.

I can't promise my updates will be this frequent in future, my dissertation is due in a month's time and I have to put that before fan fiction but I will do my best to post regularly.

Disclaimer: Because I forgot to do this at the beginning. I do not own anything that you recognize. The plot is mine and that's about it.

And without further a do...

Chapter Two: At the Edge and Where I Walk Alone

The ground gave way beneath Draco's feet before he had managed to get to the bottom of the hill. His feet slipped out from under him and he rolled down the rest of the slope, landing in an undignified heap at the bottom, staring dazedly up at the outside wall of the Labyrinth.

The sight struck him as incredibly familiar, but he couldn't say why. The closest he had ever come to a labyrinth in the past was his seat in the Quidditch stands for the third task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament back in fourth year. Still, the sense of de ja vous he got looking up at the wall, was the same sort of feeling which had prompted him to sit with Granger in the Cellar back at home.

'At least the landing was dry this time,' Frowning at the strange thought, Draco got to his feet, still staring at the wall and flexed his limbs to ensure that none of them were damaged. Satisfied that he was all in one piece, Draco began to look for the entrance to the Labyrinth.

He could find neither door nor gate.

"Ok," he muttered, frowning. "Where's the damn door?" If he were expecting an answer, Draco was sadly disappointed. Say your right words, the goblin had said when he had wished Granger away. Perhaps the same applied here. "Maybe to find the door I need to ask the right question."

A strange sense of certainty settled over him as he thought of this. But what, in the name of Merlin's favourite leather posing pouch was the right question?

He was tired. He was hungry. His whole body ached and all he wanted was to die. Why couldn't he have died? Everyone else had? What in the Underground made him so goddamned special? Not even little Nonabel had been spared.

Belle had only seen nine summers, she had not even been old enough to form a crystal, let alone construct a spell- but it hadn't stopped them from killing her; and yet he at seventeen had been spared. And hadn't that been their mistake?

He would avenge his kin.

All of them.

His anger gave him strength, spurred him on.

He would not rest until every mother fucking fairy in all of the realms was killed. He swore in the name of his sweet baby sister. Even though he knew that Belle would not approve of him vowing revenge in her name, he was far too angry to care.

And then one of his feet was caught on a root at the crest of the hill he had been climbing and he was sent arse over tit and went rolling down the other side of the hill. Down and down he rolled until he landed with a splash in a shallow pond.

Ugh!

Shivering, he pulled himself out of the pond and pushed his hair out of his eyes, ringing the water out of his clothes. Where the hell was he?

A wall rose up about fifteen feet and stretched out in either direction as far as the eye could see. The Labyrinth.

"By the gods," he breathed. "It's bloody real."

He had grown up hearing stories of the Labyrinth, but he had never quite believed them. Now, all he had to do was get into the place.

"Alright," he asked himself, wracking his brains to remember the story. "How does one get into the Labyrinth?"

A pair of doors which had not been there previously, swung slowly open a few hundred feet away to the left.

"How do I get into the Labyrinth?"

Draco had guessed the question first time. He might have felt rather proud of himself, if not for the feeling that entering the labyrinth was supposed to be that easy. Things would get progressively harder as he got further into the maze. Right now though, Draco was having a hard enough time finding the way to get out of this sodding corridor.

The Lady lay in her borrowed throne, watching the young man's progress in a crystal. She had conjured them so many times in her life, but now the effort was tiring her. She was already starting to fade. The King was returning- even now his memories would be beginning to come back to him, and when he reached the castle she could finally rest and the Queen could be made whole again.

Ablations were not supposed to live as long as she had.

"Hurry up Goblin King," she whispered as he finally found an opening in the corridor. "I want to go home."

Soon enough she would have to go and face him again, but for now she would sleep. She would wake when he reached the Oubliette.

This was the Labyrinth?

This was the legendary maze which, in ages past, had been the gauntlet his kin had faced in order to prove themselves adults? It had taken him about an hour to reach the centre, and most of that time had consisted of him trying to find an opening out of the outermost corridor. When he had found it, all he had done was turn left and he found himself in a large clearing.

"Welcome," said a voice from somewhere. "I was beginning to think that you might not be coming."

The voice belonged to a short elderly man in ragged robes and a curious, egg-shaped hat.

"You knew I was coming?"

The old man smiled. "A lost and lonely soul, come to unite the survivors of the genocide under his rule."

He blinked; the genocide had targeted more than just his kind? He had had no idea.

"Under my rule?" he asked. "I don't understand."

The man nodded and bowed. "Long live the Lord of the Labyrinth. Long live the King."

Draco shook his head, trying to dislodge the headache which had been building behind his eyes since he had entered the Labyrinth. What he wouldn't give for a headache potion right now, or even a drink of water.

Something ran down his right arm and built under the skin of his palm. And then his hand twitched and something round and smooth landed in his cupped hand. It was a crystal, just like the one that the Goblin Queen had offered him.

A frightened yelp did not escape his lips nor did he throw the crystal away. Draco Malfoy, heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy did not yelp. He had simply… sneezed. Yes that was it; a poorly timed sneeze had caused him to accidentally drop the glass ball. He looked for it, curious to see where it had landed, and doubtless shattered.

There was no trace of it. What there was though was a bloated water-skin, lying on the cobbled path about three feet away from him. Draco stared at it blankly. Had he done that?

"I…" he swallowed, half afraid of what would happen if he did test his theory. "I wish I had… a pair of boots."

Yes that would be useful, his shoes were not designed for traversing enormous mazes. Once again that something ran down his right arm, and a crystal appeared in his hand. Draco dropped this one, very deliberately at his feet and he watched in fascination as his shoes transformed before his eyes into a pair of knee length boots, his trouser legs tucking neatly inside them. The boots fit as if he'd been wearing them for years and not mere seconds.

A man could get used to this. He might even have been the best in their year if he'd been able to do this.

Best in their year…

Hermione.

What was he doing wasting time when she was waiting for him to save her life?

"Hang on, precious," he murmured. "I'm coming."

And with that Draco snatched up the water skin and took off in the general direction of the castle at the centre of the labyrinth.

~v~