The Serpent's Nest - Harry's POV

"HERMIONE!" Harry shouted, his voice breaking. It had been close to a week since she was taken.

"Bloody hell," Ron breathed, his face ashen. "These nightmares are getting worse mate"

"They'll kill her!" Harry cried, his heart pounding in his chest.

Harry's chest heaved, his hands shaking with barely contained rage.

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They were sitting at the wooden table in Andromeda and Ted's kitchen. Ginny, Ron and Harry were discussing strategy about how to rescue Hermione.

. "Where—where would he take her?" harry begged

"Malfoy Manor," Snape said quietly from the doorway. "It's where the Dark Lord keeps his prisoners. And where he believes he will draw you next."

"Then that's where I'm going," Harry said fiercely. He turned to Ron, his eyes blazing. "Are you coming?"

"Are you mad?" Ginny shouted before Ron could answer, her face a mixture of fear and fury. "It's Malfoy bloodyManor! You'd be walking into the mouth of the beast!"

"I'm not leaving her there," Harry said, his voice dangerously low. "Not with him."

"Potter, listen to reason—" Snape began, but Harry cut him off.

"No,youlisten. If you really want to help us, then get out of our way." He stepped forward, his wand aimed squarely at Snape's chest. "Or give us something useful."

Snape stared at him for a long moment, his face unreadable. Then, slowly, he reached into his robes and pulled out a small, tarnished key.

"Portkey," he said shortly. "It will take you to a point just outside the manor's grounds. From there, you'll have to find your own way in." His eyes bored into Harry's, dark and intense.

"Come on," Harry muttered, tugging on Ron's arm. "We don't have time to waste."

Ron stared at him, his face tight with fear and determination. Then he nodded sharply, stepping closer to grip the key as well. "For Hermione."

"For Hermione," Harry agreed.

And with a jolt, the world spun around them, colors blurring and stretching as the Portkey yanked them forward through space. They landed hard on a patch of frozen ground, the air biting and cold. The dark silhouette of Malfoy Manor loomed in the distance, its high iron gates glinting faintly in the moonlight.

"Right," Ron said grimly, pulling out his wand. "What's the plan?"

Harry swallowed, his eyes fixed on the manor's forbidding façade. "We get in, we find Hermione—and we get out."

"Brilliant plan," Ron muttered, but he followed Harry as he crept toward the gates.

Every shadow seemed to move, every gust of wind felt like a whispered warning. But they pressed on, hearts hammering, until they reached the cold iron bars of the gate. Harry glanced around, his breath visible in the frigid air.

"There," he whispered, pointing to a narrow gap where the bars were bent slightly out of place. "We can squeeze through—"

But before they could move, a voice rang out from the darkness.

"Going somewhere, boys?"

They froze. A tall figure stepped out from the shadows, pale blond hair gleaming in the moonlight. Draco Malfoy stood before them, his wand already drawn.

Harry's blood turned to ice.

"Trying to rescue the Mudblood, are you?" Draco sneered, his voice cold and mocking. "You always did have a weakness for lost causes, Potter."

"Where is she?" Harry snarled, his wand raised.

Draco's expression hardened. "You'll never reach her. Not tonight." He paused, glancing over his shoulder, as if making sure they were alone. Then he leaned forward, his voice dropping to a low hiss.

"But I can get you inside."

"What?" Ron blurted, his mouth falling open. "You—why would you—?"

Draco's eyes flicked to the manor, a flicker of something unreadable in their depths. "Because if you go in there alone, you'll get yourselves killed," he said quietly. "And I—I owe Granger. For what she did for me."

Harry stared at him, suspicion and confusion warring in his mind. But there was no time to debate, no time to question motives. Hermione was in there, and she was running out of time.

"Fine," he said shortly, lowering his wand. "But if you're lying—"

"I'm not," Draco snapped. Then he gestured sharply for them to follow. "Stay close. And keep your wands ready."

With that, he turned and slipped through the gate, leading them into the heart of enemy territory.

They were going into Malfoy Manor.

And if they failed—Hermione wouldn't leave alive.

The interior of Malfoy Manor was as dark and imposing as Harry had imagined—a labyrinth of shadowed hallways, towering ceilings, and cold, unwelcoming grandeur. Every corner seemed to hum with dark magic, and the very walls seemed to watch them as they crept deeper into the manor's depths.

Draco led the way, his face set in a mask of concentration as he guided them through a series of twisting corridors. The only sound was the soft, measured thud of their footsteps against the polished marble floor and the occasional creak of the old manor settling. Ron kept glancing over his shoulder nervously, his grip on his wand so tight that his knuckles were white.

"Are you sure about this?" he whispered fiercely. "We're just supposed totrusthim?"

"We don't have a choice," Harry muttered back. His eyes never left Draco's rigid form, every nerve in his body poised for the slightest hint of betrayal.

But Draco kept his head down, his shoulders tense as he led them to a concealed door at the end of a long corridor. He paused, glancing back at them with a look that was almost… desperate?

"Listen to me," he murmured, his voice low and urgent. "The Dark Lord thinks she's a bargaining chip. He's using her to lure you here. He knows you'll come."

"Where is she?" Harry demanded, his voice rough with barely controlled fury. "If you hurt her—"

"I'm not going to hurt her, Potter!" Draco hissed. "I'm trying tohelpyou!" He took a breath, as if to steady himself. "She's in the dungeons. But there's heavy security. Anti-Disapparition jinxes, wards against magical transportation—every protection you can think of. You'll need to disable them from inside if you want to get her out."

"How do we even know she's alive?" Ron growled.

Draco's gaze shifted, something flickering in his expression. "She's… alive," he said quietly. "But she won't be for long. The Dark Lord's planning something. Something big."

"What does that mean?" Harry snapped.

Draco shook his head. "There's no time to explain. Just—follow me."

With a sharp twist of his wrist, he tapped his wand against a blank section of wall. There was a soft click, and the stone slid aside to reveal a narrow spiral staircase, winding down into the darkness.

"This way," Draco whispered, slipping through the opening.

Harry exchanged a look with Ron. But there was no going back now. They were in the heart of Malfoy Manor, and the only way out was through.

They descended the staircase, each step taking them deeper into the belly of the manor. The air grew colder, tinged with a faint, acrid smell of damp stone and decay. As they rounded the final corner, the walls opened up into a long, low-ceilinged corridor, lined with heavy iron doors.

"The dungeons," Draco murmured. His voice was tight, strained. "She's in one of these cells."

Without waiting for a response, Harry moved forward, his heart hammering wildly in his chest. He peered through the narrow slits in each door, his breath coming in sharp, desperate gasps. But each cell he passed was empty—dark, cold, and silent.

"Hermione?" he called hoarsely. "Hermione, can you hear me?"

There was no answer. Panic clawed at his chest, tightening its grip with every second that passed.

"Potter—" Draco began, but Harry ignored him, shoving his way down the line of cells.

"Hermione!" he shouted again, his voice cracking. "Hermione—please—"

And then, faintly, from the very end of the corridor, he heard it.

A soft, broken whisper.

"Harry…"

His heart stopped. He sprinted forward, skidding to a halt in front of the last cell. There, huddled against the far wall, was a small, trembling figure. Hermione's hair was matted and tangled, her robes torn and bloodstained. But it was her. She was alive.

"Hermione," he breathed, relief flooding through him. He reached through the bars, his fingers brushing against her cold, clammy skin. "It's me. I'm here."

"Harry…" Her voice was barely a whisper, raw and choked. She looked up at him, her eyes glassy and unfocused. "He—he knows you're here. It's a trap, you have to—"

"I'm getting you out," Harry said fiercely. He turned to Draco. "Open the door."

Draco hesitated, his face pale. "The wards—if I tamper with them, it'll alert—"

"OPEN IT!" Harry roared, his voice echoing down the corridor.

With a muttered curse, Draco pointed his wand at the lock. There was a harsh scraping sound, and then the door swung open with a creak. Harry was inside in an instant, dropping to his knees beside Hermione and gathering her gently into his arms.

"It's okay," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I've got you. You're safe now."

But she shook her head weakly, her eyes wide and terrified. "No… no, Harry, you don't understand—"

Suddenly, the air around them crackled, shimmering with dark energy. The walls of the dungeon seemed to ripple, the very stones vibrating with a low, sinister hum. And then, with a deafening roar, the entire chamber was flooded with light.

"Stupefy!" a voice bellowed.

Harry spun around just in time to see the flash of red light—but he was too late. It slammed into him, knocking him backward. He crumpled to the ground, his vision blurring.

"Harry!" Hermione screamed, struggling against the ropes of magic that had sprung up around her once more. But there was nothing she could do. A shadow loomed over them, a tall, gaunt figure with pale, angular features and a cruel smile.

"Did you really think it would be that easy?" Lucius Malfoy purred, his voice dripping with mockery.

Draco stumbled back, his face twisted with horror. "Father—"

"Silence, Draco," Lucius snapped, his wand flicking sharply in his son's direction. "You've disgraced this family for the last time."

"Leave him alone!" Hermione shouted, struggling to her feet.

Lucius's gaze shifted to her, his eyes narrowing. "Ah, the Mudblood speaks," he sneered. "And what, pray tell, do you plan to do, Miss Granger? Rescue your little friends? Escape the most fortified manor in Britain?"

He raised his wand, a cold, malicious smile spreading across his lips. "I think not."

But before he could strike, a series of loud cracks echoed through the chamber. Figures materialized out of thin air—hooded, masked Death Eaters, their wands pointed directly at the trio.

"No one moves," Lucius said softly, his gaze sweeping over the scene with savage satisfaction. "This is where it ends, Potter. You and your pathetic friends will die here, in my house, at my hand."

He turned to Hermione, his smile widening. "And as for you, Mudblood—I'm going to make youscream."

But then, a new voice rang out, cutting through the tension like a knife.

"Over my dead body, Malfoy."

Harry's heart leapt. He looked up, struggling to focus.

Standing at the entrance to the dungeon, his wand blazing with blue fire, was none other than Sirius Black.

And behind him, wands drawn and faces set in grim determination, stood the entire Order of the Phoenix.