Chapter 3: Tuesday, August 14, 2001
"The dark and the light, they exist side by side. Sometimes overlapping, one explaining the other. The darkened path is as illuminated as the lightened."
-Raven Davies
Malfoy Manor was decrepit. There was no other way to put into words what it looked like now. The once glamorous structure had fallen victim to dark magic and time. After being seized by the Ministry and picked through by the Aurors, what was left of the massive home had been left uninhabited for three years now. No wards were left intact to keep it pristine; no daily cleanings by house-elves. It was taken over by the land and left to wither away.
The thick ivy that had crept into the main door was jarring. For only being three years, it looked as if it had been abandoned for three centuries. Draco had made the comment that the land was trying to take back what it was owed after being disrespected by Death Eater magic for so long. It sounded like a bunch of bullshit to Hermione at first, but seeing it now, she believed that was accurate.
"Remind me again, why Theo didn't come?" Hermione asked, her lit wand tunneling light through the darkness of the house, "And why exactly, did we need to be here this early in the morning?"
"Theo was never actually coming." Draco confessed, "I just thought you would agree to come if Theo was tagging along. And I had no intentions of being here this early, but since we were both awake, it seemed like the proper time. Get it out of the way, yeah?"
She rolled her eyes. Of course, Theo wasn't actually coming with them. "Do you actually need to look through the libraries or just another clever lie to get me here?"
"Sort of," he said, making a face as he looked at the decay within the Manor's walls. "Salazar, it smells like rot in here."
"The door was wide open, chances are there is something rotting in here. Why didn't you extend the wards the last time we were here?"
"I plan on burning the place to the ground if I ever get it back. Until then, it's the Ministry's and they can deal with the mess if they want to go through it again." he said, "Besides, what we need is permanently warded. Follow me."
A strange uneasiness crept up Hermione's spine as she followed Draco deeper into the Manor. He led her down a long hall and headed toward the dungeons. She felt her heart rate pick up as the memories of the first time she had the pleasure of being at the Manor began to assault her. Ron's echoing cries of her name bouncing against the stone stairwell, the feel of panic as Bellatrix Lestrange dragged her away from the group, the look on Draco's face as she writhed on the ground, crying out in pain…
Her chest felt tight for a moment, like she couldn't get a breath in. It wasn't the first time she had been back here, but it didn't make it easier. For Harry, she reminded herself. You're here for Harry, he needs you.
"Deep breath, Granger," Draco said, his palm landing on her back between her shoulders. The shaking in his voice was clear as he tried to remind her to breathe.
Hermione nodded, taking in a slow, deep breath and blowing it out through pursed lips. "Right. So, we aren't going to the libraries, obviously…"
"Not any of the main floor ones, no." he said, "The Ministry may have tried to take any dark artefacts they could find, but if they were able to get into here, I'd be surprised."
They walked further into the dungeons that seemed to be never ending. Twists and turns that were made to confuse and cause panic. Small rooms off of larger ones, all looking more menacing than the one before. Finally, against a back wall of the deepest chamber, Draco stopped.
"Did you bring a medi-kit with you?" he asked, "I didn't grab mine."
"Some Healer you are," she snorted, pulling a shrunken down black bag from her pocket. "Of course, I have mine."
"Good. Pull out some Dittany, would you?"
Hermione furrowed her brow for a moment and then gasped as Draco bent to the ankle of his trousers, lifting them up to reveal a small holster. Tucked into it, was a small, very sharp dagger. He pulled it out and she could just barely make out some sort of runes etched into the hilt. He winced, dragging the blade against his palm and quickly pressed his bleeding hand against the stone.
The stones began to shift and turn, a small entryway opening up to them. Draco shoved the dagger back into the holster on his ankle and held his hand out to her, expectantly. Hermione closed her gaping mouth and accioed the Dittany from the bag, enlarging it, and dropping a few drops onto the gash of his palm.
"Thanks," he said. "It requires the blood of an heir to open. So, like I said, I doubt the Ministry found this one."
Hermione dropped the dittany back into the bag and shoved it into the pocket of her robes, following Draco through the threshold, "What is this?" she asked.
"Malfoy family secrets. Dates back centuries, all kinds of artefacts and ancient ritual books. I thought of it the other night…" Draco trailed off, taking a deep breath before turning around to face Hermione. "I know what curse hit Potter. And we aren't here to find out if I'm right, we're here to find out how to extract it."
The room was dimly lit by lamps that hung from the walls, looking to be hundreds of years old. The small room was circular, with strange markings on the floor, runes Hermione had never seen before. There were several bookshelves full of leather-bound volumes written in different languages that looked as if they would crumble under the slightest shifting touch. Several strange items lined the shelves and there was a glass case with different pieces of jewelry on display.
"What aren't you telling me, Malfoy?" she asked, folding her arms over her chest as she looked at him in question.
"Did you ever learn about the Muggle war that happened in Vietnam?" he asked.
Hermione furrowed her eyebrows together in confusion, wondering what the hell this had to do with anything, but knowing Draco, it was connected somehow. "Yes…"
"Good, that makes this a little less complicated to explain then," Draco walked to a bookshelf and pulled off one of the newer looking books. "I suppose it wasn't only the Vietnam War that used this ideal, but it was popular then. Muggles certainly enjoy doing as much damage as they can in one go and-
"The point, Draco. Get to the point."
He scowled at her, obviously irritated about the interruption but continuing on, nonetheless. "Muggles used what they called Chemical Warfare. Mustard gas, I believe is what they used back then. Anyway, during the first war, Death Eaters caught on to this idea. They began creating curses and potions that would specifically target a certain type of magic. Something they could use in a broad spectrum. A sort of… Curse bomb, if you will," he said, taking a seat in one of the wingback chairs, Draco motioned for her to sit next to him.
"A curse bomb?"
He nodded, "Death Eaters would toss potions that were charmed to act as curses into the thick of battle. They would explode and anyone near them would get hit. Some of them were gruesome, things that would melt you from the inside out, curses that turned every hair on your body into maggots that ate flesh. But others, others were a little more intricate."
"Intricate how?" Hermione asked, her curiosity piqued.
"They began researching. Dolohov, as we know, has always had a skill at creating dark curses. He's also an extremely skilled magical researcher. During the first war, he discovered that certain magical centers gave off a different signature than others. Now, we've always assumed this, that was why Purebloods fought so hard to remain pure, as to not disrupt their magical core signatures. But other magical beings, or even muggleborns, give off completely different magical pulses than a pure or half blood would."
"What on earth are you talking about? Why would a muggleborn give off a different magical vibration than a pureblood? That sounds like purist logic to me." Hermione said, scoffing.
"I can assure you, it is not. It may have been misconstrued to be used in that manner, but it's not nonsense."
"Okay, so say I give off a different magical vibration than you do. What does that have to do with Dolohov?"
"He created curses specifically designed to wipe out muggleborns. To turn them into something inhuman to use as control. If they could turn the muggleborns into the terrifying creatures they were trying to convince everyone existed, they could convince the public to follow their narrative and assume the purist ideals."
"But they weren't successful?" she asked.
He pressed his lips into a thin line and shook his head, "Wrong again, Granger. You aren't doing too well at Dark Magic 101. I'm afraid to tell you that I'm not sure you'll receive an O.W.L here."
"God, you are irritating," Hermione grumbled. "If it worked, then why haven't I heard of these terrifying mud-creatures?"
Draco snorted a laugh and tossed the book he was holding into her lap, "Because they aren't called mud-creatures. Open up to the back, last few pages, if I remember correctly."
Hermione dragged her disbelieving glare from Draco's face and stared at the slim leather book in her lap. She opened it, flipping to the back few pages. It wasn't a book, it was a journal. Everything in it was handwritten in a neat, unfamiliar scrawl. Pages and pages of latin phrased words with illustrated wand motions connected to potion recipes. All pages seemed to be initialed at the bottom, most of them reading A.D. in the same script the description of the curses were written in. Many of the potions were initialed S.S.
"S.S.?" Hermione asked, pulling her eyes up and looking back at Draco, "Severus Snape?"
Draco gave a sharp nod, twisting his mouth to the side in disapproval. "He must have been creating the potions that held the curse to be used as a 'bomb'. Keep reading though," he urged.
Hermione got to the back of the book and her heart jumped into her throat as she stared down at the page. A very rough sketch of a creature, all black and hooded adorned the page titled For Mudbloods. Her eyes went wide as she stared at the page, her brain practically smoking from the thoughts racing through her mind. She closed her eyes, her stomach feeling queasy as she took a shaking breath.
"Dementors," she whispered.
"Dementors," Draco confirmed.
No. That couldn't possibly be true! She would have heard about this, wouldn't she? Dumbledore would have known that there were Muggleborns being turned into Dementors! He would have told the Order! There's no way…
There's no way that Dumbledore would send three teenagers on a suicide mission to collect horcruxes. There's no way Dumbledore would have been friends with Gellert Grindelwald before dueling the man to the death. There's no way Dumbledore would have spent years grooming Harry for death…
"Explain," Hermione said, her voice thick. "Explain what this is."
"Do you know how Dementors are created?" he asked.
She slumped back into the chair, running a hand through her hair as she tried to rack her brain. Trying to think of any lesson she had ever gone through about them. Third year, Remus had taught them how to protect themselves against them. Taught Harry the Patronus charm, who in turn taught half the remaining Order how to use it. But Hermione couldn't place a single lesson, a single conversation about the origin of them.
Slowly, she shook her head, "No," she said. "No, I don't know how they're created."
"Because they're a new creature," Draco said. "Sure, there's lore around them. Reproduce in the fog, feeds off of terrible memories, that sort of thing. But that isn't necessarily true. Dementors were witches and wizards with anomalies in their magical core. Muggleborns, specifically. But anything considered a half-breed could be turned."
"Dolohov was trying to hit me with a curse that would turn me into a Dementor?" Hermione asked, shock evident in her voice.
"If Dolohov is back to using these types of curses, Hermione, we don't have a lot of time before these ambushes and small battles turn into full fledged war. There hasn't been a new Dementor group made since the first war, did you know that? The number of Dementors that the Ministry had accounted for has only decreased. Because the curse hasn't been used."
"It hit Harry though," Hermione said. "Is it going to-
"No, I don't think so," Draco said. "In that journal, it talks about it being specific to magical anomaly. Potter's a half-blood. His blood status is enough to keep him from turning, but it's still eating away at his magical core. I think I can extract the curse, but you aren't going to like how I have to do it."
"Blood magic," Hermione said, instantly. "Isn't it? You're going to have to use dark magic to extract a dark curse. Blood magic would give you the best control over it."
"Ten points to Gryffindor," Draco said, his tone solemn to match the exhausted look on his face.
"Draco, you can't!" Hermione said, closing the journal and handing it back to him. "If you get caught-
"If I get caught using Dark Magic to save the Chosen One, every single person who is mad about it can eat shit. He's going to die a very slow, very painful death if we don't do something. Potter won't survive the change, only someone with a magical anomaly can."
Hermione chewed over everything Draco had unloaded in the last half hour. She tried to pick through her own mind, find something to refute the information she had been presented with, and she just couldn't. There was next to no research published about Dementors, the only thing she knew for sure about them was how to defend against them and that before the Ministry had taken control over them, they had been under control of Voldemort.
Through both wars.
The Ministry had never gained control of Dementors until after Voldemort had fallen the first time. Once he rose again, Dementors changed their allegiance and were under his control once more. She couldn't remember reading a single text about the use of Dementors in any facet before the First War. Not even during the rise of Grindelwald, when Werewolves,Giants and rogue Fae were under command of the dark wizard, Dementors were never mentioned.
If Harry was dying from a curse meant to change him, it would be painful. Hermione knew that for sure. There were horror stories of humans not surviving their first transformation after being infected with Lycanthropy or Vampirism; always ending in death for the ones who couldn't successfully transform. There had to be more information, though. There had to be a time frame or something similar. Clearly this curse isn't instantaneous!
"What's the time table," Hermione asked, pulling her eyes from the page she was staring at glossing them over Draco's face. "On someone who gets infected with this curse?"
"It's in the journal," Draco explained. "But it isn't very clear. Some people turned in a week or two, some people it took a few years. It seems like it depends on how strong your magical core is."
Hermione nodded. That would explain why Harry hadn't really seen a change in a few weeks. Harry's core was extremely magically charged, even more so than most Purebloods. It was one of the things they checked in vitals of every person after the battles had taken place. She and Draco always checked to make sure everyone's magical core was intact and steady.
Certain types of magic or spells could cause one's magical core to deplete rather quickly. They had discovered, contrary to popular belief, that magic was not an infinite fountain flowing freely within, but a deep well, from which one can pull power from as needed. However, as is true with any well, it will eventually run dry. Most witches and wizards don't live long enough to see that happen.
But should a witch or wizard spend several years in war using magic to keep themselves, and everyone else alive, those odds start to change. So, it was imperative that Draco and Hermione monitor everyone after battles, to make sure they weren't nearing total depletion anytime soon.
"So, I assume there's an actual reason you brought me here? You may be the most dramatic person I've ever met, but this even seems a bit much for you," Hermione said.
"I am not dramatic!" Draco complained, an upward tug on his lips giving him away, "But yes, there was an actual reason. We need to figure out what could store the curse once it's extracted and I need help figuring out the extraction spell."
"What do you mean we have to store it? Why would we have to-
"Well it's a Dark curse, Granger," Draco looked at her, as if that explained everything. When it was clear that it did not, he huffed, shaking his head at her. "It's a little unsettling how little you understand about Dark Magic. We are at war, do some reading."
Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, "I have. Sorry that there isn't an abundant supply of readily available information about an obscure Dark curse that turns muggleborns into soul sucking creatures."
Draco folded his arms over his chest, sucking at teeth and nodding, "Okay, fair. Magic like this is… Well, it's living. It's not a living, breathing, physical being but curses like this often require a certain type of antidote, a simple countercurse won't work to eradicate it. I'm assuming it was supposed to be a potion, but it looks as if the potion was only ever half completed."
"Do you think that's when Snape defected?" Hermione asked.
Draco shrugged, "I assume so," he said. "All the other corresponding potions are completed in that journal, that one is the only one that isn't."
"If we extract the curse from Harry, can we do it to a living Dementor? Could we… Do you think we could save those poor people?" Hermione asked.
"Forever a Gryffindor, wanting to save the world," Draco sighed, rolling his eyes. "Let's worry about the task at hand. Once we get this bit figured out, we'll work on saving everyone else, all right?"
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a/n: Thank you for reading! Just a reminder, the story is pre-written and will be posted every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday.
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