Chapter 2: Shadows Unveiled

The air in the room felt heavy, wrapping around them like a smothering cloak. Draco's words kept reverberating in Hermione's ears as she struggled to process them, leaving her feeling like she'd been struck by a bad case of whiplash.

How had she gone from quietly reading in her room to being told by her school tormentor that he'd been sent here to—

No. It can't be.

"What did you say?" Hermione's voice shook, her brown eyes straining to search his avoiding gaze, desperately holding onto the hope that she had simply just misheard him.

Draco, still unwilling to look directly at her, chose instead to tunnel his vision into a painting hanging right behind her—to occlude. His eyebrows seemed to rise slightly as he noticed that it was a Monet imitation, a copy of 'The Water Lily Pond', one of his mother's favorites.

"Answer me!" Hermione screamed.

Her outburst seemed to have the intended effect, forcing Draco's eyes to snap back to hers. Drawing a deep breath, he let himself unravel the threads of the impossible mission he had forcibly gotten entangled in, his voice cutting through the air like a knife. "You heard right, Granger. I was tasked by the Dark Lord to kill you and your parents," he repeated, his voice steady, despite the tumultuous storm raging within him. Now was not the time to lose control.

Hermione was suddenly taken by an overpowering sense of claustrophobia, feeling as if she had been sucked through a vacuum, as if the room's walls were rapidly closing in around her.

The saying 'ignorance is bliss' could not have been more fitting than in this moment.

She desperately wished that she still had her time turner, that she could go five minutes back on time and never answer the front door.

And then it dawned on her…she had left her wand in her room.

Her mind raced with endless possibilities yet none whatsoever. She was vulnerable without her wand, completely and utterly at Malfoy's mercy.

She quickly moved, aiming to run back upstairs, but couldn't, her throat constricting with panic as her limbs abruptly locked in place. The bastard had cast a wordless 'immobulus' on her.

This can't be real. This can't be happening.

The air crackled with tension as his steely eyes locked onto her frightened gaze, her dread and anguish palpable. She snapped her eyes shut, her heart threatening to beat out of her chest as she resignedly anticipated his inevitable attack, for the spell that would end her life.

But said attack never came.

"You need to listen to me, Granger. Your parents are in grave danger. You are in danger. You need to find them and run. Now." He urged, then swiftly undid the immobilizing spell that had restrained her.

Hermione tentatively opened her eyes, only to be stunned by how desperate he looked. His cold gaze had turned inexplicably soft, his silver eyes pleading with her to listen.

The urgency in his voice snapped Hermione out of her stupor. The reality of the danger her family faced collided with the surreal revelation that Draco Malfoy, of all people, was here, warning her. The room seemed to tilt on its axis as she staggered backwards, gripping the edge of a bookshelf for support.

"What are you saying?! How-

"Don't ask me what, why, or how Granger, just run!" He interrupted her urgently, running a hand through the side of his face.

"But…why are you helping me?" Hermione's voice trembled, her breaths quickening. Nothing made sense to her.

Draco hesitated, the silence stretching like an invisible thread between them. His eyes, searching hers, revealed a vulnerability she hadn't seen before. "It doesn't matter why. Just go," he implored, desperation seeping into his words, his vulnerability laid bare.

But Hermione, though trembling with fear, couldn't ignore the nagging questions that clawed at her. "Why should I believe you? What's in it for you?" Suspicion dripped from her tongue as she slowly seemed to regain her nerve.

Draco's frustration bubbled to the surface. "Just go, Granger! Don't you understand? I can't do it. I can't kill you or your family. I won't."

A tornado of conflicting emotions furiously overtook her mind. She was torn between the instinct to take his warning and run, and her suspicion that it was all an elaborate trap, a cruel set-up to get her to trust him.

Yet when she looked at him, she could not deny that he seemed to be telling the truth, his expression anxiously pleading with her to escape.

Hermione could not help but feel a surge of empathy as his gaze bore into hers, wondering what would happen to him if she complied. If Voldemort had sent him on this mission, he would surely expect him to either come back victorious or to suffer the consequences.

She shuddered at the thought of what such consequences might be.

Before she could even think of asking him, the front door burst open, the intrusion violently jolting them both. Draco and Hermione turned as one to face the ominous figure that now loomed in the doorway.

Rodolphus Lestrange's lips stretched into a malevolent grin, an embodiment of darkness that eclipsed the remnants of fading twilight. "Well, well, Draco Malfoy," he sneered, the mirth in his voice sending shivers down Hermione's spine. "The prodigy with a tortured conscience. A traitor in our midst."

Draco squared his shoulders, defiance replacing the vulnerability that had marked his earlier plea. "Lestrange," he spat, his voice dripping with disdain.

Hermione, sensing the imminent danger, took a step back, even more aware now of how exposed she was without her wand. Her eyes darted between the two wizards, her mind racing at what was about to unravel in her childhood home, a place where she had once felt at her safest.

Her parents' absence seemed to be the only merciful act in this twisted game of fate.

Rodolphus advanced, his gaze fixated on Draco. "The Dark Lord has sent me to ensure you complete your mission, nephew…only for me to find you failing miserably."

Draco's jaw clenched, the muscles in his shoulders tensing.

'Keep occluding Draco', he thought "I don't need a babysitter Lestrange, leave me to my mission."

Rodolphus chuckled darkly, raising his wand. "I heard you tell her to run, nephew. I knew you didn't have it in you. Step aside, Draco, let me show you how it's done."

As Rodolphus pointed his wand towards Hermione, Draco swiftly pushed her behind him and pointed his own wand at his uncle.

"You dare raise your wand at me, boy!" Lestrange yelled and prepared to strike his nephew.

The room suddenly transformed into a battleground, the air thick with the charge of dark magic. Hermione watched with wide eyes as Draco moved with a fluidity that defied the desperation that had colored his features only moments ago.

Curses and hexes danced through the room, their lethal intent painting the air with an ominous glow. Draco, fueled by the urgency to protect Hermione, fought with a ferocity that left her speechless. Each movement, each incantation, was a testament to his exceptional talent, one she realized she had never taken notice of before.

Hermione, though brilliant in her own right, stood in awe and terror as the duel unfolded before her. The clandestine nature of magic had always fascinated her but witnessing it in its most raw and unrestrained form was a phenomenon that surpassed all her studies.

With a flick of his wand, Draco sent a hex that managed to slash through Rodolphus' shoulder violently, sending the dark wizard stumbling backwards as he clutched his injury, letting out a cry of pain. Sensing a momentary advantage, Hermione, emboldened by the surge of adrenaline, decided to run upstairs to fetch her wand, ready to contribute to the defense.

But before she could make more than a single step, Rodolphus infuriated, aimed an Avada Kedavra curse directly at Hermione, who was now again in his line of vision.

Her lips parted in terror as she braced herself for the spell's impact.

Her heart stopped, she was sure of it, the world halting around her.

This must be her last breath—

She suddenly felt the swoosh of the fabric of a cape almost caress her front and the movement of an arm even through her closed lids. She didn't dare to breathe as she slowly opened her eyes.

In a split-second decision that defied the self-preservation ingrained in every wizard, Draco immediately stepped in front of her and wordlessly cast a protective shield.

Her eyes widened as she witnessed the curse rebound with a blinding green light, leaving a ghastly silence in its wake. Rodolphus Lestrange fell to the ground, lifeless.

Hermione's breath caught in her throat as she stared at Draco, who stood before her, breathing heavily.

What just happened? How did Malfoy just do that? How did he rebound a killing curse?!

Her reflexes were senselessly urging her forward, to verify if the assailant was indeed dead, as part of her simply could not believe it. But then Draco caught her wrist, forcing her to turn back and face him. his silver eyes clouded with a furious hurricane of emotions. His chest rose and fell with each labored breath, and for a moment, the world seemed to freeze around them.

Hermione stood still as she stared at him, her mouth hanging slack and her mind still reeling with shock.

"You need to leave. Now!" he nudged her, his hands shaking her shoulders.

Hermione did not budge, still grappling with the events that had just unfolded.

Malfoy rebounded the killing curse. I did not die. This just happened.

"No…No no no…This can't be happening!" Draco yelled, his fingers letting go of her shoulders to instead grab at his platinum hair. "Granger! Leave before anyone else shows up!"

As if on cue, the sound of gravel crunching against rubber tires broke through the air. The Grangers' car was pulling up in the driveway.

"Just my luck!" Draco exclaimed. He turned to look at Hermione, whose eyes were now on Rodolphus Lestrange's lifeless body.

He again grabbed her by her shoulders, trying to jolt her from her trance. "Granger, have you gone deaf? Go! Take your parents and run!"

He finally managed to bring Hermione back to reality. She shook her head and looked at him, her eyes welling up with tears. Both their heads then snapped towards the front door, as they heard the fumbling of keys. As the door finally opened, Hermione met her parents' eyes with a mixture of fear and panic, her hands trembling as she raised her wand, leaving Draco looking at her, confused. She quickly cast a stunning spell, rendering her unsuspecting parents unconscious.

With razor sharp instinct, Draco moved quickly, helping Hermione catch her parents before they could collapse. Together, they laid them gently on the ground.

"Now what?" Hermione whispered, speaking for the first time since before Lestrange had shown up.

"We need to get you out of here," Draco replied, his gaze scanning their surroundings. "Do you have any safe place to go to?"

Hermione hesitated, her mind skimming through possible options. "There's an old, abandoned house nearby. It belonged to my great aunt. No one knows about it. We can take them there."

Draco shook his head "No, they will find you" He let out a frustrated yell, his fists tightening as he stood, beginning to pace back and forth.

"We can't leave them unconscious like this. We need to wake them up and explain," Hermione said, determined to gain back the slightest semblance of control.

Draco shook his head again "There's no time for that! Don't you muggles travel by aeroplane or something? You should leave the country tonight!"

It finally clicked. She needed to send them away somewhere outside of the UK, somewhere where no one would think of looking for them. But how does she convince them to leave without her?

"My parents have always wanted to go to Australia" she murmured, the gears in her brain working overtime. She knew what she needed to do.

She pointed her wand towards her parents again and murmured, "Rennervate."

Hermione's parents blinked back to consciousness, their expressions those of groggy confusion.

"What happened?" Hermione's mother asked, rubbing her temples.

Before her father could join the conversation, Hermione shot another spell towards them, one she never thought she would ever cast on her own family "Obliviate."

Draco watched in shock as Hermione prepared for the delicate task of modifying her parents' memories. The air buzzed with magic as the incantation flowed from her wand towards her parents, weaving a web of forgetfulness around them. Hermione meticulously shuffled through their minds, wiped away any traces of her existence from them, planting instead an incessant need to urgently leave everything behind and drive to Heathrow airport with one destination in mind: Australia.

As the last traces of her spell settled, Hermione's parents blinked, their eyes reflecting a blank slate.

Her legs shook as she rushed upstairs, leaving Draco puzzled as he stared at the dazed couple. Barely a few minutes later, she emerged back into the room, with what seemed like two small booklets clutched in her hand while her wand levitated a leather luggage.

"Here," she whispered, handing her parents the documents, "Your names are Wendell and Monica Wilkins, and you were just about to head to the airport."

Hermione and Draco watched the couple rise, grab the luggage, turn back towards the door, open it, and walk back towards their car. Hermione, who seemed to have been holding her breath the entire time, only released it once they drove their car out of sight.

"That was brilliant Granger. Insane, but brilliant." Draco said as he crossed the room towards her.

Hermione, her eyes still glistening with unshed tears, shot Draco a fierce look. "This is crazy, I can't believe I just did that to my own parents."

Draco's eyes softened as he averted his gaze away from hers.

"Why didn't you leave with your parents?" Draco's voice cut through the silence, his silver eyes staring at the wooden floor.

Hermione's brow furrowed, trying to think of something witty to say. In truth, she doesn't know exactly why she stayed. But there was also no reality in which she would just up and leave, not when her friends still needed her. Today was a clear reminder of how grim the Wizarding World's situation has become, a world she was now unequivocally a part of. She had to stay, to help Harry and the order of the Phoenix fight Voldemort.

"Why does it matter, Malfoy? Why are you even helping me?" Hermione retorted.

Draco sighed, frustrated at the turn of events and the stubbornness of the witch in front of him. He proceeds to ignore her question "You need a plan, you need to disappear. Running away might not be enough. You need to be smart about this."

Hermione squared her shoulders, meeting Draco's gaze with determination. "Why are you helping? What will happen to you if Voldemort finds out you killed your own uncle and let me go?" She swallowed and added, "Don't you need to run too?"

Draco choked out a bitter laugh, the weight of the situation pressing against his chest. "Granger, you don't understand. I can't just run away. Voldemort will find me, and when he does, it won't end well for me or my mother. He'll kill us, or worse, he'll torture us and then kill us."

Hermione's eyes widened at the grim reality Draco painted. The enormity of their predicament settled heavily on her shoulders. She racked her mind for a solution, but found none, at least none that didn't involve his help. Unless she'd be willing to abandon him, leave him to face his demise after he'd saved her and her parents' lives.

There was no world in which Hermione could do this to him.

"So, what do we do now?"

Draco shook his head, "There's no "we", YOU need to leave-

"Like hell, there isn't! Face it, we are both in it now, and I won't be indebted to you." Hermione snarled, an angry look in her eyes. "We need to make him believe you carried out his orders. Like you said, if we run without a trace, he'll send someone else after us. Someone who won't hesitate to finish the job."

He looked at her with a mixture of sadness and trepidation, and for the first time in that cursed evening, Hermione noticed how tired he looked. It was as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. Her mind raced, searching for a way to solve their problem. Then, a spark of genius lit up her brown eyes. "We make it look like you killed us. A fire, perhaps?"

Draco's gaze lingered on her, a mix of disbelief and contemplation. "It would need to be convincing. Voldemort won't be fooled easily."

Hermione pondered for a bit before speaking again. "Then we make it convincing. You torture me with the Cruciatus Curse before the fire. That way, if Voldemort were to search your memories, he would find proof of your success, and hence will not doubt your loyalty."

Draco's eyes widened, aghast at her proposal. "Torture you? Are you out of your mind, Granger?"

Hermione's expression hardened, determination gleaming in her eyes. "Desperate times call for desperate measures, Malfoy. We need to do this, or we're both as good as dead."

A tense standoff ensued as Draco grappled with the moral dilemma. After a prolonged silence, he finally relented, his voice resigned. "Fine, but we need to discuss what happens next. Where do we go from there?"

Hermione, though having secured a reluctant agreement, realized she hadn't thought that far. Where do they go from here? If she were to go through with this, then Wizarding Britain would need to believe that she's dead. She wouldn't be able to return to Hogwarts, nor to see her friends.

A heavy silence enveloped them as she realized that she was trapped. She couldn't risk abandoning Malfoy now, not when she now knew the consequences of doing so. But where would she go if not to school or to her friends? To her muggle relatives maybe? No. That was not an option either. How would she explain to them that her parents just left her and went to Australia? Even if she did have an explanation, staying in Muggle London would still hold considerable risk of being caught. Maybe she should have left with her parents after all, but it was too late, they don't even remember her anymore.

Hermione felt herself hyperventilating, her breathing hurried and shaky as she brought a hand to her thumping heart.

Before she could spiral out of control, Draco finally spoke, "I have a cottage in Transylvania. It's secluded, and no one knows about it except for me. I spent almost all of last summer there, warding it almost into oblivion. We can lay low there while we figure out our next move."

Hermione couldn't help but laugh through her panicked state. "A cottage in Transylvania? What are you, Malfoy, a vampire?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Just trust me, Granger. It's safe, and it's the best chance we have."

After a prolonged stare, Hermione reluctantly nodded, finding no other option to her predicament. "Fine, but we need to be quick before your precious auntie Bella shows up looking for her husband."

Draco agreed, the weight of their decision pressing on them both. Hermione's heart was thumping hard in her chest as she inhaled deeply before speaking again. "Malfoy, you need to do it now…the Cruciatus."

Draco's breath caught in his throat, his silver eyes reflecting a storm of conflicting emotions. The dim light flickered in the room as he hesitated, his wand held aloft but trembling in his grasp. Hermione, her expression a mixture of determination and apprehension, locked eyes with Draco. The unspoken understanding passed between them, acknowledging the harsh reality of the decision they had taken.

With a deep breath, Draco steeled himself, a sense of resignation settling over him. "I can't believe I'm doing this," he muttered, more to himself than to Hermione. How was he ever going to recover from the guilt of torturing her?

Sure, it was her idea, but the witch in front of him had no idea what the Cruciatus would feel like.

Not even close.

"You realize it's going to hurt beyond anything you've ever experienced before Granger, right?" He asked, maintaining a tight grip on his wand.

"Yes," she said, holding her head high, trying to show him that she could take it.

You have no idea, Granger.

He closed his eyes for what felt like forever, gathering up the courage to cast the unforgivable onto the consenting girl, knowing that even though she was allowing it, he would never allow himself to forget it, or even forgive himself for it.

I'm about to torture someone, an insufferable yet innocent girl caught up in a war she never chose.

His wand almost broke under his grip.

Hermione, though aware of the necessity of the charade, couldn't suppress a shiver that ran down her spine. The impending pain, both physical and emotional, loomed over her. She squared her shoulders, offering Draco a nod that conveyed her readiness.

Draco's wand traced a hesitant arc in the air as he uttered the incantation.

"Crucio."

The moment the curse left his lips, a surge of magic lashed out, wrapping around Hermione with a ferocity that stole her breath. Agony, sharp and unrelenting, coursed through her veins. Her body stumbled forward, landing her on her knees with a thud. She quickly wrapped her arms around herself and dug her fingernails into her skin. Her instincts screamed for release, for the pain to cease.

And so, she screamed.

The room seemed to warp and twist, shadows dancing in macabre patterns as the curse took its toll over her. Before she knew it, hot tears began to roll down her cheeks.

Draco, his features contorted with a mixture of guilt and revulsion, maintained the spell.

It had only been ten seconds after all.

He was counting.

And every second felt like a knife stabbing them both.

An internal conflict raged within him as he played the role of the tormentor. His arm wavered, the incantation losing its edge, a testament to the turmoil that threatened to consume him.

The torturous seconds stretched into an eternity, the air heavy with the brunette's wails. Then, as if releasing her from the clutches of a million sword jabs, Draco abruptly ceased the spell. Hermione collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath, her body trembling from the residual pain.

Draco, his eyes averted as if unable to meet hers, took a step back. The room seemed to hang in silence, the aftermath of the curse lingering in the air.

As Hermione struggled to rise, Draco's gaze met hers, pained silver meeting tortured gold. "I'm sorry, Granger," he stammered, as he rushed to help her up.

Before Hermione could respond, Draco asked her if she kept any pepper-up potion vials in her childhood home. She nodded and gestured towards her bedroom upstairs. Before she could protest, he put an arm around her shoulders and one under her knees and lifted her into his arms.

She wanted to say that she could walk, but her throat wouldn't collaborate as her entire body shook.

He turned towards the staircase and carried them up, the wooden floorboards creaking with every step. As they reached her bedroom, he gently laid her on her bed and asked her again where she kept the potion. She pointed towards one of the drawers of her vanity, to which he obliged and handed her the potion uncorked.

It took around five minutes for the potion to take effect, as the color began to return to her cheeks and her shivers seemed to subside. Her muscles began to relax, and her quick breathing began to calm down.

"Are you feeling better?" He asked her while crouching above her, his arm resting on her bedpost.

"Yes," she managed to croak out, her voice raw and gritty from the pain and exhaustion she felt. She lifted herself from the bed, wobbling slightly as she stood.

Draco quickly grabbed her arm, steadying her. "We need to quickly pack your essentials, Granger. Do you need my help with it?"

"No, I can do it. Give me a second."

He nodded, reluctantly releasing her arm, and watching her walk forward, grabbing her own wand for the last time. Once everything was in her charmed beaded bag, they headed downstairs and outside to the front yard, with her holding on to him to support her balance.

Draco raised his wand, the tip glowing with an otherworldly flame. He directed it towards the house, and with a whispered incantation, the fire leapt to life. The flames danced with an unnatural fervor, devouring Hermione's childhood home, her wand and Rodolphus Lestrange's body with a hunger that mirrored the desperation that had driven them to this point.

At that sight, Hermione's eyes could not help but water as she let out a strangled cry, her shoulders shaking, but Draco knew they had no time to dawdle. He took her arm and apparated them away, leaving the flames to consume her home, and with it, any remnant of her childhood.