The next memory swirled into focus, and they were dropped into the Malfoys' courtyard with Bellatrix and Draco dueling around them. The same gravel that had scraped across her fingers as she'd been dragged across it by her hair was now beneath her trainers.
After having seen Bellatrix duel on more than one occasion and having been on the receiving end of it as well, Hermione could tell from the indolent way that she was casting that the witch was holding back. She flicked her wand lazily, but the vicious smirk never left her face, as if she relished showing him just how superior she was. Draco, however, seemed to be giving her everything he had, flinging spell after spell and casting streams of green, followed by bright red sparks and electric white currents blasting across the garden.
Even though Draco was casting so quickly that Hermione barely had a chance to register the spells he was using, Bellatrix was barely even trying as she blocked each one, shooting her own curses at him in the process, and Hermione could see the growing welts across his forearms and face from where her hexes had landed.
"You'll never be fast enough," Bellatrix said, a hungry grin on her lips as she taunted him. blocking a flash of red with a lazy swish of her wand. She cast a non-verbal curse, purple sparks causing Draco to cry out as they collided with his leg, singeing a fist-size hole straight through his trousers and blistering the skin of his thigh beneath.
"You're pathetic."
"Confringo!" Draco yelled, but Bellatrix's own spell collided with it, igniting a bush to their left as a careened off course.
With a quick flick of her wand, Bellatrix lifted the statue and threw it in Draco's direction. He barely got out of the way in time before it came crashing to the ground just where he'd been standing, sending shards of stone raining down around them. Hermione and a few of the others ducked instinctively, but the rubble passed directly through them.
Draco wasn't so lucky. He jumped back to his feet, blood seeping from superficial wounds to his chest and face as he cast a shield just in time to block Bellatrix's next spell.
The memory seemed to ripple, the sounds turning hollow and the colors dulling. Hermione looked around, her eyes finding Nicola's, and they shared a look of confusion at what was happening. Other than feeling as if her senses had been turned down somehow, everything else remained the same; the memory continued as the duel between Draco and Bellatrix intensified.
Sweat stood on Draco's face and his shirt clung to him as he shot curse after curse at her. Something had shifted after she threw the statue at him, and it wasn't until he stopped moving long enough for her to get a good look at him that Hermione realized what was causing the change in the scene.
Draco's eyes were cold, merciless, and his face was completely devoid of all traces of the anger and anxiety he'd been feeling before.
"He's Occluding," Hermione whispered to Nicola as Draco walked closer to Bellatrix. The witch too had noticed this shift in him and the languid movements she'd been making turned to more precise motions as she fought to keep up with him now.
Bellatrix had been a split second too late in realizing the change in him. All at once, Draco's Crucio landed squarely in her chest, buckling Bellatrix beneath the weight of it. There'd been no hesitance in his voice as had been with Luna. This came out guttural, entirely too close to Bellatrix's own growl, and the witch's back bowed, sending her knees crashing to the ground and a short scream pouring from her lips.
The sound seemed to jar Draco too, because the sounds and colors seemed to amplify again, bringing the scene fully back into focus, and Bellatrix's cry abated as quickly as it had begun. For a fraction of a second, a child-like fear filled Bellatrix's eyes as she looked up at him, but in a flash it was gone and fury took its place. She jumped to her feet and took three steps toward Draco, her eyes blazing and sparks crackling from her hair.
Draco stood his ground, his eyes no longer deadened but burning wild and looking far too similar to those of the witch he was staring down.
Bellatrix lifted her wand and shouted, "CRUCI–"
"Enough." A voice cut through Bellatrix's curse, and they all turned to see Voldemort standing on the veranda overlooking the courtyard. "He's ready," he said, his robes swishing behind him as he turned to sit, motioning for them to join him.
Draco cast one more look at Bellatrix's face, his sneer turning into a smug smirk as he made to join Voldemort.
Bellatrix let out a frustrated yell and cast a curse at the fountain, sending it somersaulting across the courtyard and crashing to the ground in a cloud of smoke and debris.
"No need for theatrics." Voldemort's voice, low and foreboding, seemed to amplify throughout the courtyard, and Bellatrix quickly spun around, righting the fountain and piecing it back together with a flick of her wand. The witch's magical prowess was undeniable, but her precision was lacking. She was all rampage, destruction and chaos, but the fastidiousness needed for the intricate details along the fountain's three tiers was beyond her reach. The ornate figures that had decorated its surface before now looked like grotesque caricatures of their former beauty. Bellatrix, however, seemed to approve of their new gargoyle-like appearance; she gave her work a once-over with heavy lidded eyes before turning to join the others.
"Sit," Voldemort said, and Hermione turned her attention back toward the verandah where Draco eased into the seat opposite Voldemort. "I told you before that I have a very special task for you."
Bellatrix bowed extravagantly toward Voldemort but when he ignored her completely, she dropped down into the chair beside him with a huff and leaned back, lounging in a way completely contrary to the stiff way Draco sat, as if he were afraid to breathe beneath the gaze of the monster in front of him. She blew a frizzy tangle of curls from her face as Narcissa joined them on the patio, a tea tray in her arms.
"Yes, my Lord," Draco said with a swallow, his eyes lingering on the small bit of exposed skin on his mother's arms as she served the new master of the manor. Peaking just beneath the hem of her sleeves, Narcissa's wrists were mottled in the green and yellow of days-old bruises, and the porcelain shook as she poured.
"You will return to Hogwarts for your sixth year, and you—" Voldemort stopped, his red eyes rising to meet Narcissa's. "Where are my manners? Please join us, Lady Malfoy," he said as he lifted his hand, long fingers motioning toward the open seat to Draco's right for Narcissa to sit down. "You never seem to get to rest these days," he said, folding his long fingers beneath his chin and shaking his head in mock sympathy, "gracious hostess that you are."
Narcissa sat down just as tentatively as Draco had and smoothed her dress across her thighs. The look of proud indifference in her face would have been believable if not for the way one hand gripped the other as she folded them into her lap.
"As I was saying, you will return to school; education is very important for the future of wizardkind." Voldemort smiled, or at least it appeared to be some semblance of a smile, but it looked about as close to a smile as a reptile could get. "However, your focus is not your education. You, young Draco, are the next generation of my army. You have no need for an education any longer. No, your focus will be to search the castle for some vulnerability that will allow your comrades to enter into the school undetected."
Draco face was stark white, heavy shadows showing beneath his eyes as he blinked at Voldemort. "Wh—what are they going to do when—"
"How dare you question—"
Voldemort lifted a hand almost lazily, cutting Bellatrix off as quickly as she'd started, causing her to curl around herself and retreat to the back of her seat like a scolded child. "Silence," he said, dropping his hand back into his lap. "Draco is merely curious." He turned his gaze back toward Draco and added nonchalantly, "We will kill every man, woman, and child who stands in our way."
Draco's jaw clenched, but his face was otherwise free of emotion.
"And most importantly, Draco, you will kill Albus Dumbledore."
Draco's composure wavered, and his mouth dropped open in surprise. A squeak escaped from Narcissa, and her own nonchalance faded as she quickly covered her mouth.
"You look a bit perturbed," Voldemort continued, his raspy voice taking on a mocking tone. "Surely you aren't going to refuse my offer of insurmountable glory."
Draco glanced at his mother before cutting his eyes at the two figures that had just stalked out onto the patio to join them. Hermione's breath caught in her throat as she took in the burly countenance of Fenrir Greyback as he strolled forward, stopping just as he reached Narcissa's chair. He breathed in deeply, his face turning partially toward Narcissa's chair, and let out a satisfied moan as Augustus Rookwood towered over Draco's chair.
"N—no, my Lord."
"Good." Voldemort tilted his head to the side and said, "I don't suppose I need to tell you what will happen should you fail?"
Rookwood's hand slapped down onto Draco's shoulder, squeezing just enough to emphasize the threat. Narcissa's eyes swam with tears as Draco said, "No, my Lord."
All at once the scene shifted, but instead of settling into the next scene, it was like a whirlwind, jumping from memory to memory in foggy snippets. Hermione and the others had to turn, catching glimpses of each memory as they swirled around them.
Draco casting spell after spell over the Vanishing Cabinet in the Room of Requirement, his face growing more desperate with each attempt.
Draco having to Imperio Katie Bell four times before her jaw finally goes slack and her eyes deaden.
Draco sweating over a cauldron, his eyes wild as they scanned across the pages of Dark and Dangerous Potions.
With each memory, Draco was more and more gaunt, his skin turning pallid and ashen as he became a shell of himself.
As the scenes slowed, Hermione recognized Moaning Myrtle's bathroom in the hazy darkness around them. Water dripped from a broken pipe in one corner of the room, and the sounds ofpanicked breathing filled the room. Draco sat between two sinks, water pooling around him with his face buried in his arms and his knees tucked into his chest. His back was rising and falling in time with the sound echoing off the walls.
"Don't," crooned Moaning Myrtle's voice from one of the cubicles. "Tell me what's wrong… I can help you…"
"No one can help me," Draco said, his whole body shaking as he stood up, gripping the edges of the sinks on either side of him in order to stand. "I can't do it… I can't… I can't kill him…. he's going to kill me…" Draco managed to lift himself on shaking legs and look into the mirror. Tears stained his cheeks, and his eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, standing out sharply against the pale almost translucent color of his face. "He's going to kill my mother. I can't—"
All at once Draco's eyes widened, and he spun around, turning to face the group watching his memory so quickly that Hermione somehow thought he knew they were there, but when a flash of red shot through them and shattered the mirror behind Draco's shoulder, she spun to see Harry leaping out of the way of Draco's returning hex.
As Harry flicked his wand from behind one of the stalls shouting "Levicorpus!" the colors drained from the memory just as they'd done when he was fighting Bellatrix. Draco leapt to the side, avoiding Harry's spell as the edges of everything blurred softly, leaving the memory with the light haze of watercolor. Spells continued to rain down around them as Hermione and the others backed to one side, watching as Draco and Harry dueled.
"No! No! Stop it!" squealed Myrtle, her voice ringing off the tiled walls as she flew through the air above them. "Stop!"
There was a loud bang and the bin behind Harry exploded; Harry attempted a Leg-Locker Curse that backfired off the wall and over Malfoy's left ear, smashing a cistern behind Myrtle. Water poured from the hole, and Harry's foot slipped. He grabbed the railing of another sink to catch himself to keep from collapsing into the dirty water swirling beneath them, and Draco seized the opportunity. Stepping out from behind the wall he'd been using for cover, he shouted, "Cruci—"
"SECTUMSEMPRA!" bellowed Harry just as he lost his grip on the sink and fell to the floor. Hermione gasped as did Nicola beside her; knowing what was coming didn't stop the sinking feeling in her stomach when she watched the spell hit Draco's chest. As soon as the spell made contact, Draco staggered backward, and the memory sprang back into focus, the colors and sound intensifying again. He crumpled into the floor with a splash, his wand falling from his limp fingers as blood began to seep through his white shirt.
"No—" gasped Harry.
Slipping and staggering, Harry slid across the floor to where Draco lay. His face was now scarlet, as blood poured from his mouth and nose, and his pale hands grabbed at his chest.
"I'm sorry— I didn't—"
Harry dropped his wand as well, grabbing onto Draco's chest as well and trying to staunch the heavy flow of blood. It covered the floor beneath them, mixing into the water and turning it pink.
"MURDER!" Myrtle shouted. "Murder in the bathroom!"
Draco seemed to be trying to speak but only managed a cough, spattering droplets of blood across Harry's face and glasses. The room slowly faded from focus, the edges fading out until the group stood in total darkness once again.
Hermione heard Nicola sniff beside her, and Hermione too had to wipe her eyes after seeing, once again, how close Draco had come to death.
The Astronomy Tower rose up around them, and Hermione's stomached plummeted as she realized what memory they were now seeing. She'd seen this one before, in the pensieve with Harry along with the other memories he'd shared with her. But once had been enough, just like the last one.
"There are Death Eaters here in your school tonight," Draco said, his face ghoulish beneath the green glare of the Dark Mark in the sky above them.
"Well, well," said Dumbledore, completely unfazed by the crazed expression on Draco's face or the wand that was leveled at his chest. "Very good indeed. You found a way to let them in, did you?"
Draco was panting as he spat, "Right under your nose, and you never even realized!"
"Ingenious," said Dumbledore. "Yet… forgive me… where are they now? You seem unsupported."
"They met some of your guards. They're having a fight down below. They won't be long… I came on ahead. I — I've got a job to do." The tip of Draco's wand shook in the moonlight.
"Well, then, you must get on and do it, my dear boy," Dumbledore said softly.
The silence grew heavy around them, and Hermione's eyes sought out the spot where she knew Harry was hidden beneath the invisibility cloak. Explosions sounded from the floor beneath as the fight continued leading up to the Astronomy Tower, and with each crash, Draco flinched. Dumbledore, however, smiled fondly at him.
"Draco, Draco, you are not a killer."
"You don't know what I'm capable of!" His words came out an octave higher than his normal voice before breaking as he said, "You don't know what I've done." It felt like Hermione's heart was shattering as she watched Draco's chin quiver before he clenched his teeth and straightened his wand arm.
"Oh yes I do. You almost killed Katie Bell with the necklace and Ronald Weasley with the poisoned mead. You've been trying, with increasing desperation, to kill me all year. Forgive me, Draco, but they have been feeble attempts… So feeble, to be honest, that I wonder whether your heart has really been in it."
Draco said nothing, but the furrowing of his brows and jerking of the muscles in his cheek said Dumbledore was correct.
"I don't think you will kill me, Draco. You've had several minutes now to do just that, and yet here we are. I am more defenseless than you could have ever dreamed of finding me, and still you have not acted."
Malfoy's mouth contorted, and he looked as if he was trying desperately to fight off a panic attack. His breathing quickened again as the fighting below grew louder.
"We have very little time, Draco. Let us discuss your options." Dumbledore spoke slowly, nodding his head placatingly as if he truly believed himself safe. Knowing what Hermione knew now, she wondered if he was stalling because he thought perhaps the Order would subdue the Death Eaters downstairs or did he know already that he was about to die.
"My options!" Draco shouted, his face growing paler. "I'm standing here with a wand! I'm—I'm—I'm about to kill you—"
"My dear boy, let us have no more pretense about that. If you were going to kill me, you would have done it when you first disarmed me. You would not have stopped to have this lovely chat fir—"
"I've got to!" Draco said, a look of pure fear falling over his features. "I haven't got any options! I've got to! He'll kill me! He'll kill my family!" Draco moved his wand into his other hand, wiping his right onto the side of his robes.
Dumbledore nodded again, his face mournful. "I appreciate the difficulty of your position. I have not confronted you before now because I knew you would be murdered if Lord Voldemort knew of your hesitation."
Draco shuddered at the sound of the name.
"But now we can speak plainly. No harm has been done. I can help you, Draco." Dumbledore took a staggering step toward Draco, who retreated away from him, clearly not noticing that Dumbledore was so weak he could barely stand.
"No, you can't," Draco said, his wand shaking violently now. "Nobody can."
"We can, Draco. Come over to the right side, and we can hide you. I can send members of the Order to your mother to hide her as well. Your father is safe in Azkaban at the moment… When the time comes, we can protect him too…. Come over to the right side, Draco… you are not a killer."
As soon as Dumbledore mentioned Narcissa, Draco's wand started to lower, if only a fraction at a time. His eyes were shining with tears, and it was obvious he wanted desperately to believe that he had another option. He started to take a step toward Dumbledore, but then stopped abruptly at the sound of heavy footsteps racing up the stairs. He took a shaky step backward, his eyes full of fear as he looked to Dumbledore for help.
Four people in black robes burst through the door, knocking Draco to the side in the process, and Hermione recognized the Carrows, Bellatrix, and Fenrir Greyback. The four looked back and forth between Draco and Dumbledore.
"Well done, Draco," Bellatrix purred, stalking forward to wrap her long fingers around Draco's face, pulling him closer to her despite the obvious grimace on his face as she roughly kissed his cheek.
"Do it." Fenrir's gravelly voice sent shivers up Hermione's spine, and she instinctively stepped closer to Nicola again. His hair was matted, and Hermione could smell the characteristic tang of dirt, sweat, and blood that surrounded him like a cloud. His filthy hands gripped his own wand as he took a step closer to Dumbledore.
"Fenrir, is that you?" asked Dumbledore.
"That's right," the werewolf rasped in response, his yellowed teeth shining as he gave a twisted grin. "Pleased to see me, Dumbledore?"
"No, I cannot say that I am."
Blood trickled from Greyback's teeth as his smile widened. "But you know how much I like kids."
Dumbledore's nose curled up in disgust as he said, "I am a little shocked that Draco here invited you, of all people, into the school where his friends live…"
"I didn't," Draco said, barely more than a whisper. His arms hung limply by his sides, and Hermione thought she'd never seen him look so defeated. Bellatrix's own wrapped his waist as she smirked at Dumbledore from over Draco's shoulder. " I didn't know he was going to come."
"I wouldn't miss a chance to visit Hogwarts," Greyback laughed. "Not when there are throats to be ripped out." He picked at his teeth with one dirty nail. "I could do you right now."
He started to take a step toward the Headmaster, but Amycus threw one hand out to stop him. "No," he said, "We've got orders. Draco has to be the one. Do it!" he snarled toward Draco. "Now."
Malfoy was showing less resolution than ever. He looked completely terrified as he stared at Dumbledore and Bellatrix lifted his wand arm, leveling his wand back toward Dumbledore's chest.
As the sound of scuffling could be heard coming up the stairs again, Amycus shouted, "Now, Draco! Now!"
But Draco's wand was shaking so badly he could barely aim.
Bellatrix growled in frustration and shoved him to the ground just as Snape burst through the doors.
"We've got a problem," Bellatrix said to him. Rolling her eyes, she added, "The boy can't do it."
Dumbledore's weak voice managed to cut through the others. "Severus," he said. "Please." For the first time Dumbledore's face showed a modicum of fear, resignation for what was to come. "Please," he said again.
Snape said nothing, but walked forward, stepping past Bellatrix with Draco on the ground looking up at them. He raised his wand just as Dumbledore said his name again.
"Avada Kedavra!"
A flash of green light shot from the end of Snape's wand and hit Dumbledore squarely in the chest. Hermione and the others, those both living the memory and those merely observing, watched as Dumbledore was knocked over the edge of the Astronomy Tower and fell backward like a rag doll, over the battlements and out of sight.
The tower dissolved around them, and Hermione and the others now stood behind the same table that she and Draco had destroyed together less than two months ago. Only now, all the seats were filled, and Voldemort sat at the head of the table, looking down at the faces in front of him.
Draco sat between both of his parents, and though he and Narcissa looked awful, their skin ashen with dark circles rimming both sets of eyes, Lucius looked even worse. His hair hung lifeless across his shoulders, and his cheek bones protruded grotesquely on either side of his face. All three of them stared straight ahead, unblinking and clearly hidden inside their minds. Hermione noticed that the images were barely fuzzy around the edges, still altered slightly in Draco's Occluded state, but not nearly as dramatically as they'd been in the other memories.
A fire burning on the other side of the table was the only light in the room, casting dancing macabre shadows across the features of all those dining there. Hermione heard Nicola give another gasp beside her, and Hermione followed her gaze upward above the table. Hermione had been so focused on Draco and his family across from her that she had failed to noticed Professor Burbage suspended above the table and revolving in a slow circle.
The Muggle Studies professor was flipped so that her stomach faced the ceiling, and as if her waist was secured to an invisible rope, her head and feet hung beneath her middle, bending her spine in a painful arc. Hermione was even more horrified when the professor's spinning put her face directly in front of Hermione's and she saw that she was still alive, her eyes wide in terror and a silent scream on her lips.
"As I was saying," Voldemort said, pulling Hermione's attention from Professor Burbage and the horror she knew she was about to witness, "I understand better now. I shall need, for instance, to borrow a wand from one of you before I go to kill Potter."
Every face at the table turned away, each of his followers focusing on their plates in front of them or anywhere else but Voldemort's heated stare, none of them wanting to be chosen. Even Bellatrix avoided his gaze, her eyes focused straight in front of her.
"No volunteers? Let's see…" Voldemort stood from his seat and began walking the length of the table, stopping once he was directly across from those watching the memory and right behind Lucius Malfoy. "Lucius, I see no reason for you to have a wand any longer."
Lucius looked up, his skin yellowish and waxy in the firelight, and spoke in a hoarse whisper, "My Lord?"
"My Lord?" Voldemort said, his own voice high as he mocked Lucius before returning to his normal cadence. "I require your wand Lucius." He held out one greying hand expectantly.
"I…" Lucius glanced sideways at Draco who was staring straight ahead as if the conversation going on around him was of no importance at all, and Hermione noticed even his Occluding face now looked resigned and exhausted. Narcissa's hand slipped into Lucius's though she too was staring fixedly at the wall across from her. Lucius put his hand into his robes and withdrew his wand, hesitating only for a brief second before passing it off to Voldemort.
Voldemort lifted the wand in front of his face, examining it and the ornate silver snake along the handle. "What is it?"
"Elm, my Lord," Lucius whispered.
"And the core?"
"Dragon—dragon heartstring."
"Good," Voldemort said, before snapping the handle off the wand; the sound amplified through the silence of the room, and all three Malfoys flinched. Voldemort, seeming not to notice, removed his own wand from within his robes. Lucius Malfoy made an involuntary movement; for a fraction of a second, it seemed he expected to receive Voldemort's wand in return for his own. The gesture was not missed by Voldemort, whose eyes widened maliciously.
"Give you my wand, Lucius? My wand?"
Some of the others around the table snickered, Bellatrix's giggle rising above the rest.
"I have given you your life, Lucius, is that not enough for you? I've spared your son though he failed to perform the simple task I offered him. I even allowed you to keep your wife,"—he reached forward to twirl a lock of Narcissa's hair around one long finger—"though I believe her strength would be better suited for a man who isn't quite so… broken." A few of the others around the table chuckled, and Hermione felt Nicola's grip on her arm tighten when Rabastan's leer turned feral.
Both Draco and Lucius stiffened, and the room seemed to blur even more around them before coming back into focus as Voldemort stepped away from them, returning to his seat at the head of the table.
"But I have noticed that you and your family seem less than happy of late… What is it about my presence in your home that displeases you, Lucius?"
"Nothing—nothing, my Lord!" Lucius said immediately.
"Such lies, Lucius…" The S's in his speech hissed even more pronounced than before, and he followed these words with others that Hermione could not understand, hissing breathily as he sat back down.
Faint hissing could be heard from somewhere in the darkness beyond Voldemort's seat, and something heavy could be heard sliding across the floor. Nagini appeared, coiling her large body slowly up the chair where Voldemort sat. The sound alone turned Hermione's stomach, and she noticed she wasn't the only one disgusted by the snake's presence. A few of the others, those closest to Voldemort's chair shifted involuntarily away from him as the beast rested its massive head on his shoulder.
Nagini's eyes stared straight ahead, unblinking, but her head moved as if she were taking in each person sitting around the table. Voldemort reached a hand up, stroking along the snake's neck.
"Why do the Malfoys look so unhappy with their lot? Is my return, my rise to power not the very thing you professed to desire for so many years?"
"Of course, my Lord," Lucius said, his hands shaking as he reached up to wipe sweat from his upper lip. "We did desire it—do! I mean, we do desire it."
On either side of him, Narcissa and Draco both turned their attention toward Voldemort. Narcissa offered a wooden nod, but when Draco met his gaze, the room swayed once again, bouncing in and out of focus as Draco fought to maintain his Occlumency shields. His eyes shot upward quickly, looking at the professor spinning slowly above his head before he mumbled an agreement and turned away with a swallow.
The shift in Draco's focus as he shot a glance at Professor Burbage didn't go unnoticed, and as if it had reminded him of her presence, Voldemort too looked up. "Do you recognize our guest, Draco?" he asked.
Draco swallowed again and turned his face slowly upward. "Y—yes, my Lord."
"Surely, you haven't taken her classes though, have you?"
"No!" he said at once, his wide eyes dropping to Voldemort's again. "Of course not, my Lord." The clear terror on his face and the way the room seemed to brighten into vivid colors and clearer images said that his shields had toppled completely.
"Good, perhaps you won't be a complete disappointment," Voldemort said. "For those of you who do not know, we are joined here tonight by Charity Burbage who, until recently, taught at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She taught the children of witches and wizards all about Muggles… how they are no different from us."
The Death Eaters around the table began to hiss and boo, and one broad, hunched woman with pointed teeth stood and spat directly into the professor's face.
"As if they were not filth… vermin…" He flicked Lucius's wand toward her, and the room was immediately filled with the high-pitched wail that the silencing hex had been muting before. Her voice cracked, echoing off the walls and rattling Hermione's teeth.
"Severus!" the woman screamed as she revolved to face the new Headmaster of Hogwarts. "Ple—please." Her voice was hoarse, unlike the kind, soft-spoken woman that Hermione remembered, and she felt tears sting her vision again. Hermione couldn't look away, though she knew what was coming. The room was swaying in and out of focus again, and the sound of her screams seemed to grow louder as Voldemort raised his wand again, twisting the professor's back further.
Hermione clenched her eyes shut, unable to block out the sound of her screams, and for the first time she found herself thankful for Voldemort's "Avada Kedavra." The wailing immediately ceased, and Hermione's ears rang from the silent void that was left in its wake.
Hermione opened her eyes just as Voldemort slashed his wand through the air, and Professor Burbage fell with a resounding crash onto the table below, shattering wine glasses and plates beneath her. Several of the Death Eaters leapt back in their seats, and Draco fell out of his completely, his fearful eyes shining in the firelight.
"Dinner, Nagini," Voldemort said softly, and the great snake slithered off the back of his chair and onto the polished wood.
Hermione couldn't look away. She found herself transfixed as the beast slowly made her way across the table, until all at once she sprang the last remaining feet and coiled her body around the woman's, sending fine china and cutlery clattering to the floor. A few other Death Eaters pushed their chairs away from the table, distancing themselves from the snake and her meal, and Draco slid completely away, pressing himself as closely to the wall as he could get. Voldemort too seemed transfixed, watching with one side of his own snake-like mouth curled up in a grin as the snake's jaws cracked and she swallowed up to the professor's shoulders.
Thankfully, the scene faded once again, and they were now standing on the bank of a river overlooking a pedestrian bridge in London.
"Watch and see the world we're creating, young Draco," the hissing voice of Lord Voldemort said from Hermione's left. She turned and found Narcissa and Draco standing beside Voldemort, their robes billowing in the wind blowing in off the water. The sky was black, covered in thick clouds, and Voldemort put a hand on Draco's shoulders that in any other setting with any other people may have looked fatherly and comforting; Draco's shudder, however, said the gesture was anything but welcome . The sky was black, covered in thick clouds and by the way Draco and his mother were shivering, Hermione presumed Dementors were close by.
A loud clang boomed across the water, and the bridge in front of them twisted, the beams holding it above the water now rocking back and forth. Screams filled the air as Muggles clutched onto the rails. There were hundreds of them spanning the bridge that Hermione guessed to be about half a kilometer long. Children grasped their parents' legs as people began sprinting toward land, trying to get off the swaying bridge as quickly as possible.
Clouds of black that Hermione realized were Death Eaters sped through the air around them, shooting hexes at the support beams, and Bellatrix's cackle somehow rose above the sounds of terror coming from their victims.
Hermione looked toward Draco and found his face once again devoid of color. Narcissa clung to him, her nails gripping his arms as people trapped on the bridge screamed. More Death Eaters were shooting curses at the buildings along the water's edge, and Hermione recognized the face of Lucius Malfoy as he sped above them and shot a curse that rocked the entire bridge. It instantly began to wave as if it were made of rubber instead of metal and concrete.
The screams were drowned by the sound of the bridge cracking and wires snapping before it finally plunged into the water beneath it, sending waves crashing along the shore. Narcissa and Draco only managed to keep from being washed away by their proximity to Voldemort as he cast a shield, blocking them all from the rushing spray of the River Thames. Draco's face still remained completely passive, but Narcissa was unsuccessfully trying to mask her shock as tears spilled down her cheeks.
When the wave collapsed, Hermione felt as if she were going to be sick. She covered her mouth with her hand, trying to stop the horrified gasp that fell from her lips. Bits of broken beams floated on the water's surface, and between them floated an innumerable amount of bodies, most of which weren't moving save the swaying of the sea.
This must've been what Draco meant when he'd mentioned the awful things he'd seen his father do. Hermione was still too stunned to speak, appalled at the amount of floating bodies on the churning water, when the scene around them shifted again.
They were now standing in the middle of a dark living room, and Hermione gasped when she turned to find a family bound and gagged behind her and the rest of her group. It took her a split second in the hazy darkness of the room, the only light being that of the moon falling in through the curtains beside them, to notice Rufus Scrimgeour among them, one side of his face bloodied though partially obscured by a blindfold.
A woman sat to his left, her hands behind her back stopping her from wrapping them around the crying child pressed against her side. Through the gag in her mouth, she kept shushing the little boy whose blindfold had fallen down, exposing wide and terrified eyes spinning around the room, passing over the Death Eaters standing above them, Voldemort front and center.
"Lift him," Voldemort said, snake-like eyes trained on the Minister-of-Magic. A masked Death Eater strolled forward, jerking the man to his feet. He barely managed to keep his legs beneath him on what was obviously an injured knee.
Voldemort flicked his wand, and the blindfold fell from Scrimgeour's face revealing a gash that stretched from temple to chin across his already scarred face. "Your help is no longer needed, Minister," Voldemort said, his bare feet gliding silently across the floor as he stepped closer toward him. "Both with finding Potter and at the Ministry." Voldemort walked around him, circling him like a shark in the water. "You see, I have someone else in mind for your job, someone with better principles, better standards. No hard feelings, of course."
Voldemort lifted his wand, and Scrimgeour's face never faltered, his eyes never widened as one would expect as Voldemort cast the curse that ended his life. Green light filled the room and reflected in the terrified eyes of Scrimgeour's son. The boy looked to be about eight years old, and his chest shook with the harried breaths he was taking in time with his mother's sobs beside him.
"Bella," Voldemort said, and the mask dissolved from the Death Eater to his left, revealing the witch's obedient face.
"Yes, my Lord."
"You and the boy finish here. The rest of you, you know what to do." Without another word, he disapparated in a swirl of thick black smoke along with the remaining Death Eaters in the room, save Bellatrix and presumably Draco beside her.
She turned to face the woman and child, both now crying though the former was trying to rein in her sobs as she tried to maneuver her body between the remaining Death Eaters and her child. Hermione was shaking all over, feeling her heart shattering as she watched the helpless woman try to comfort her child and beg for their lives, the words coming out garbled around the gag still in her mouth.
"You heard him, Draco. Do it," Bellatrix said, her voice much softer than Hermione had ever heard it before. Hermione gripped Nicola's arm. As hard as this was for her to watch, or any of them for that matter, Nicola watching this woman be killed like this had to remind her of Astoria. Glancing over, she noticed Nicola's eyes were clenched shut.
"Do it!" Bellatrix's screeching voice echoed through the small living room, and they all jumped, Draco included. She couldn't see his face through the mask, but his wand arm was extended, shaking just as badly as it had been when he stood on the Astronomy Tower with Dumbledore.
"NOW!" Bellatrix's eyes were wild as she screamed at him, and Draco flinched every time her voice punctuated the cries of the mother and son at their feet. He was trembling all over, and he gripped his wand so tightly Hermione thought it'd surely snap under the pressure.
"Now, you sniveling coward!" she screamed, pushing him almost off his feet.
He turned sharply and screamed back, his voice cracking, "I CAN'T!"
His wand was outstretched at Bellatrix now, but instead of fear on her features, a cackle poured out of the cold smile on her face as she snatched his wand out of his grasp. She turned it on him, staring him down with his own wand trained at his chest for a split second before she cast the same curse she'd used on Hermione, pulling the breath from his lungs. Dropping to his knees, Draco's hands grabbed his chest as the mask dissolved from his face.
Hermione had barely time to even glance at him before Bellatrix turned his wand on the woman and child at her feet. She was unable to hear the incantation, but fire swirled around the two. She flicked the wand again, engulfing them both in flames before grabbing Draco by the collar and apparating them from the room.
Hermione thought the scene would change again—she hoped it would—but instead, they were all now standing in the front yard of the same home, the flames visible through the windows. Draco was still gasping, clawing at his throat as Bellatrix shot a spell into the sky, filling the darkness with the putrescent green of the Dark Mark. When she turned back to Draco and removed the curse on him, he gulped like a man drowning, retching as the cool night air filled his lungs.
All at once, screams filled the otherwise stillness of the night, and Bellatrix jerked him up by the collar of his robes. "You hear that?" She screamed, pointing with her wand toward the house in front of them. "You did that to them!" Draco stilled beside her, his chest still heaving but now his focus was drawn to flames now covering the front section of the home. His wide eyes reflected the orange glow as they filled with tears and he desperately covered his ears.
"Pathetic excuse for a Black," she snarled, snatching his hands away from his head before backhanding him across the face. "You could have given them an easy death, one they didn't deserve, the filthy—"
"He was a child!" Draco yelled, his voice hoarse as he panted but enough to cut through her tirade, still reeling from the curse she'd put on him and the weight of the situation unfolding around him beyond his control.
"A child who had no right to live in the world we're creating," she spat while the screams continued on around them, chilling Hermione to the core. "You're too soft, too weak." Her lips drew back in a snarl, exposing rotten teeth. "Should've been drowned at birth." She fisted his hair in her hand and yanked his head back, her angry black eyes glaring into his. "I'd kill you myself if not for my sister."
The lawn faded from beneath their feet, Hermione still clutching onto Nicola's arm, and the fiery blaze in front of them morphed into the dank dungeon of Malfoy Manor once again, and as Hermione looked upon Bellatrix's angry sneer and Draco's split lip, she couldn't help but think that if she never had to see that place again it'd be too soon.
Draco was on his knees, breathing heavily, just as he'd been in the previous memory, Bellatrix pacing in front of him, her black robes billowing behind her as she walked. But there was a change in Draco here, the defeated, fearful look on his face was now replaced with one of pure vitriol, a fire burning within them hot enough to set the world ablaze. His arms were shaking again, but now with what seemed to be a repressed rage that she'd only seen on a few occasions.
All the while, Bellatrix continued her pacing, muttering to herself, looking more deranged than Hermione had ever seen.
"The boy's fault… not mine… he's to blame… could've tried harder… could've—"
A scream tore through the room causing Bellatrix to flinch, her wild eyes casting to the ceiling and Draco's glare in her direction to shift to a look of terror as his eyes too looked upward. He jumped to his feet, boots kicking up water as he ran toward the door before he was thrown across the room by presumably his own wand still in Bellatrix's grasp. She slammed him against the wall, pinning them there as he continued to flail trying to reach the door.
"Let me go!" he yelled, the fire in his eyes gone, replaced now with swimming tears as he pleaded with her. She crossed the room in a single bound, grabbing his chin with one hand and smacking his head against the wall.
Even as he winced, fighting through the pain of a concrete wall against the back of his skull. "She's your sister," he croaked. "You're just going to let him—"
"I'm not doing anything! You're going to get her killed!"
Another scream ripped through the air, stilling them both for a split second before Bellatrix slammed him to the floor and climbed atop his chest in the same way she'd done Hermione. In Hermione's mind, she saw herself there, with the witch's knees on her shoulders, but she blinked, pulling her mind back to the scene in front of her. Alys must've sensed the way Hermione stiffened, not only from her own similar memories but at seeing Bellatrix this way with Draco as well, and she put a comforting hand on Hermione's back.
"We can stop if you'd like," she said softly, but Hermione just shook her head. This wasn't about her. It was about Draco. It was his turn, and she'd watch and listen just as he'd done for her, no matter how much it hurt to do it.
Draco apparently had had enough, and he lifted his upper body to try and throw Bellatrix off him, but she slammed him back to the floor with his wand, both of them now wet from the stagnant water beneath them.
"Get off—"
"You have to learn. You have to," she stopped to rip his shirt open, buttons flying across the room, "learn." She yanked one shoulder of his shirt off enough to see his bicep and performed the same bit of magic she'd used on Hermione as she conjured a knife fromsmoke, and Hermione's heart sank. "Everything she gets, so do you. Next time you won't hesitate." She drew the blade across his upper arm, carving a single tick mark into his flesh as another scream emanated through the ceiling mixed with his own as she cut another. "Next time you won't feel."
Hermione turned her face away, her own breath turning ragged as her ears rang from the raw sound of pain behind her. Thankfully, the memory shifted again, replaced this time with broken scenes swirling around them once again. Images floated in front of them, quickly shifting from scene to scene as they tried to keep up.
"Again, Draco," Voldemort was saying, Draco standing expressionless in front of a kneeling Thorfinn Rowle. "Do it again," as Draco lifted his wand.
Draco, face blank again in the twirling smoke, as he cursed Ollivander. "Good job, Draco," Bellatrix crooned as her lips brushed his ear. "Maybe you have more Black in you than I thought."
Voldemort shattering every window in the drawing room of Malfoy Manor as he bellowed in anger, all three Malfoys, Bellatrix, and Greyback lying on the floor, surrounded by bits of splintered wood and broken glass. "How could you let them escape?" he raged, and Hermione realized she'd never really heard him yell. But here, following her, Harry, and Ron's escape from Malfoy Manor, Voldemort was furious in a way Hermione had never seen him before, his eyes redder, darkness seeming to pour directly from him. He cast a Crucio that somehow managed to hit them all at once, twisting them all in agony as more cries filled the air.
Draco and Goyle atop a pile of "hidden things" in the Room of Requirement. An inferno reflected in grey eyes as Fiendfyre raged beneath them, a horrified expression on his face as one hand clung to the leg of a desk; the other groped in mid-air as Crabbe fell just out of reach, flames licking up around him until he faded into the blaze.
Suddenly the swirling images stopped, landing them all in the middle of the Ministry atrium. All three Malfoys stood in the center, their hands raised with a dozen Aurors pointing wands at them. Draco's face was void of emotion, and Narcissa's eyes were rimmed with red. Lucius was speaking, slowly but purposefully, standing directly in front of Narcissa. "We are unarmed. We—"
A dozen spells shot toward him, buckling Lucius where he stood, dropping him in a heap on the floor as Narcissa screamed, and Draco took his father's place in front of Narcissa.
"Stop!" Draco shouted over the spells still hitting his father, one hand outstretched in front of him, the other holding his mother from running toward her husband. "Didn't you hear him? We're unarmed."
A red-haired man stepped forward, a look of unadulterated hatred across his face as he pocketed his wand into his black and red Auror robes. "We heard, Death Eater." Without warning, the man swung, his fist connecting with the left side of Draco's face, knocking him backward and into Narcissa as she shouted again. Draco was tackled to the floor and his hands wrenched behind him by the Auror, his knee now dead center in Draco's back. Draco never flinched, never once attempted to fight back…
Until a burly, bald Auror grabbed Narcissa by the arm, twisting it behind her back as she tried to shake him off. "We aren't fighting you," she said, trying to squirm away from him, but the man twisted her arm further, causing her to cry out in pain.
"Stop!" Draco shouted again. "Leave her alone!"
Hermione glanced down at Draco. His face was red, his breathing labored, and based on the way the scene seemed to be shifting in and out of focus, he was trying desperately to hold his Occlumency in check. When the red-haired Auror lifted off his back and planted a kick to the side of ribs, his walls cracked entirely.
Hermione had never seen it happen from this perspective. She'd only ever witnessed her own magical explosions, and from her point-of-view, she'd never seen anything at all. It'd always happened in the middle of a panic attack or when she was sleeping, and the one time she'd been around Draco when he'd done it, she hadn't been looking at him at all.
As soon as the man's boot connected with Draco's ribs, he curled in around himself, and the air around him seemed to shimmer, like heat radiating off asphalt, just before some sort of shockwave exploded out of him. The Auror was thrown backward, his limbs flying out in front of him as he crashed into the wall with a crunch, his nose spraying blood before he ever even made contact. The few others who had been surrounding Draco as well skid across the floor, each of them thrown off their feet as they too slammed against the wall.
Time seemed to stand still for a moment, the remaining Aurors staring down wide-eyed at Draco on the floor, still breathing heavily with his eyes clenched tightly seemingly unaware of what had just taken place. The burly man had dropped Narcissa's arm and both of them stood with their mouths agape before Narcissa closed the distance between them and dropped to the floor beside him.
"Draco," she said, but he never moved, never lifted his head from his arms. "Draco," she said again, her fingers brushing through his hair causing him to stiffen even further. "Draco, you're o—"
The burly man seemed to come to his senses, and he pushed Narcissa out of the way and grabbed Draco by the collar of his robes, yanking him like a ragdoll from the floor. He barely remained standing, his legs were shaking, and his arms still covered his face, as if he expected to be attacked again, with good reason; the man drew back as if to hit him again as Narcissa grabbed onto the man's arm, manicured nails digging into sleeve.
"Stop!" Narcissa screamed. "He didn't—"
"What is going on here?" a voice behind them boomed, and everyone, those within in the memory and those watching it, all turned to see Kingsley Shacklebolt standing in front of the lifts, purple robes billowing and another half dozen Aurors behind him. "What are you doing, Hewitt?"
The Auror in question dropped Draco's arm immediately and the memory slowly faded out until Hermione found herself back in the Group Therapy room again, blinking as her eyes grew accustomed to the lights.