Unofficial Portkey Archive

A warning- this is a pretty dark chapter, please read and review!

Harry Potter and the Final Prophecy

Chapter Three

Shivering and hungry, Hermione Granger was roused from a restless sleep by the loud thumping sounds coming from the cell adjacent to hers. Craning her neck, she saw the prisoner who had been her only companion for the last 24 hours, being dragged from the dungeon, pleading for his life. An older, dignified-looking wizard, he had apparently been a high- placed member of the Order, and was captured and brought to this place a week ago. Romulus Gamble had offered Hermione words of encouragement ever since she had been brought here, unconscious and bleeding profusely from the head. It was extremely distressing to see her only company dragged out by two thick-set Death Eaters (one whom she recognized as Macnair). Hermione's voice now joined the cries, as she begged them to leave Romulus alone. As the screams died away, the young witch was left staring at the wall and wondering what her fate was to be. Drifting back into darkness, she began to dream.

It had started with the piercing wail of an alarm from somewhere in the depths of the headquarters. The inhabitants had bolted into the backyard, hands covering their ears to escape the painful sound. Moody and Remus had entered the house, wands outstretched and certain that the enemy had found them. As it turned out, the only person found inside the house was Mundungus Fletcher, passed out with a bottle of firewhisky in his hands.

Upon re-entering the house, Luna had suggested that the false alarm was the work of `Flying Crummys', whose mischievous actions had been researched in depth by her father's newspaper editor. Rolling her eyes, Hermione watched Luna follow Ron into the lounge room. Luna seemed to be following Ron everywhere since she and Neville had arrived at Grimmauld Place at the beginning of the holidays. Shrugging her shoulders, Hermione helped Mrs Weasley with dinner, and an hour later they were feasting on fried chicken and vegetables. As George bewitched the roast to dance across the table singing old wizard tunes, Hermione's thoughts drifted to Harry. Hoping that he was safe and in good spirits, she gasped as one of the cooked birds fell into Mrs Weasly's lap, inciting hysterical laughter from everyone at the table. Shaking her head, she finished her meal and excused herself from the table, unable to watch Luna staring intensely at Ron for much longer.

Entering the room she and Ginny shared, Hermione began to quickly tidy her belongings.

The last thing she remembered was picking up "Hogwarts, a History" for some light, bedtime reading. Feeling a familiar tugging at the base of her navel, she barely had time to let out a surprised breath as she disappeared from the room, the book still clutched in her hands.

Hermione fell to the ground hard and rolled several times, coming to rest at the base of a tree. The Portkey lay several metres away, its pages open to chapter seven. Breathing heavily, she raised her head a few inches and noticed she was in a dark forest, twisted limbs moving without making the slightest noise. Feeling a little scared now, it took Hermione a minute to realize she was defenseless: her wand was on her bedside table.

Getting unsteadily to her feet, she stumbled towards the book but was cut off by a stunning spell directed towards her chest. Before hitting her head on the hard ground, she was dimly aware of a tall, cloaked figure with long hair and a pale face: Lucius Malfoy.

"Where are your friends now, Mudblood?" Laughing as she fell, Lucius grabbed a small fistful of her hair and pulled hard, passing the strands a lone Dementor who had emerged from the darkness. "See that Potter gets this….."

Wide awake now, Hermione studied the walls of her cell, reading the names that had been etched into the stone by unfortunate souls. Pushing her damp, matted hair behind her ears, Hermione added her own name to the long list of previous inhabitants, praying that she wouldn't be a permanent addition.

Suddenly, she was interrupted by the sound of footsteps descending down the stone passageway. Shuffling as far into the corner as her restraints would allow, Hermione recognized the thin, pinched face that emerged from the doorway, a look of surprise showing on Draco Malfoy's face.

"What the hell are you doing here, Granger?" he spat, observing her tattered, blood-stained clothes and damp hair with some interest. "I don't have a clue….ask your father that question." she retorted, returning the stare, eyes narrowed. Although not wanting to show weakness, Hermione began shivering uncontrollably, as Draco had left the door open, and a cold gust of wind had entered the dungeon. Returning to close the door, Draco took a seat in front of the holding cell.

"You know He's coming to see you?" Draco said quietly, looking down at his feet. "Father's really excited, say's it'll be just like old times. You're going to be the first Mudblood he tortures and kills, just to piss Potter off….The Dark Lord wants to play with him a little….."

Barely able to contain her fear and anger, Hermione raised her head slightly. "Why don't you say his name, Malfoy…" she hissed through gritted teeth, aware that she was shivering again. "I'm not scared of Voldemort, I'm not scared of you, and if it's my time to go, then so be it."

Leaning back in his chair, he studied her small form huddled in the corner of the cell, and suddenly felt an emotion he had never experienced before: remorse. Shaking the feeling away, he stood and left the freezing dungeons, confused and unsure. His father had always justified the killing of many wizards and muggles, stating that they were `a threat to their cause'. However, there didn't seem to be any reason for Granger's impending death. He actually had begun to enjoy their mutual animosity towards each other, amused by her cool reaction to the taunts and insults. As he made it back to the hallway, he was passed by a cloaked figure being led by his father towards the dungeons. Fear now replaced remorse as Draco realized who the visitor was, and what they were about to do.

Hermione's fear had now graduated to full blown terror as she watched the men enter the dungeon. Lucius Malfoy seemed sorely disappointed when a cold voice asked him to leave. Now certain she was alone with Lord Voldemort, she fought valiantly to hold back the tears as the metal doors swung open violently and the Dark Lord swept into her cell. Leaning down beside her shaking body, he reached into a pocket and retrieved a small, shiny glass orb. Hermione whimpered softly as Voldemort turned the orb around and pointed to the small inscription on the bottom, as if urging her to read it:

S.P.T. to T.M.R.

Harry Potter and Hermione Granger

"Do you know what this is, girl?" he asked in a quiet voice. Without waiting for an answer, he continued. "This is a prophecy, much like you all saw in the Department of Mysteries. It contains what Potter needs in order to kill me. The seer wouldn't allow me to know the contents, so I killed her. This prophecy is in both your names, and I need to know what it says." Grabbing her hand, Voldemort placed it on the orb that was now glowing brightly. Hermione's eyes widened as the voice of Professor Trewlawney echoed in her head. Now crying openly, she attempted to block the words out, knowing the consequences if Voldemort gained access to this information.

Replacing the orb back in his pocket, Voldemort stood up quickly and dragged the sobbing girl to her feet. "I'm only going to ask you once…" he threatened, their faces so close that the veins in his face were visible. Now nearly hysterical, she remained silent, tears streaming down her face, knowing what was about to come. Feeling his hands on either side of her head, she screamed as an unbearable pain shot through her body. She cried out Harry's name, before the darkness flooded back to take her, rendering her blissfully unconscious.

* * * * * *

The Malfoy's and their guests had been served dinner by the bustling house elves when the screams had issued from below. Chuckling, Lucius raised his wine goblet. "Looks like our guest wasn't forthcoming….." he whispered to Antonin Dolohov and Macnair, who laughed with him, toasting their good success at escaping from Azkaban. Draco merely ate quietly, hoping that the screams would stop soon.

Six hours later, and the Malfoy mansion was black and silent. The Dark Lord had left in a hurry, furious at the lack of information bestowed on him. Draco could still hear his father's apologetic pleadings, which he thought to sound weak and foolish. Climbing out of bed, Draco crept through the dark halls filled with various family heirlooms, careful not to wake anybody. Grabbing his wand, he cast the `lumos' spell and made his way down to the dungeons, the place he had been warned as a child never to go alone.

Finding the cell, Draco found Hermione crumpled on the floor, legs drawn up in a fetal position. He gently lifted her from the floor and onto the blankets he had brought from upstairs, covering her as best he could. Roughly waking her, Draco gave her some water and bread. Before falling asleep, Hermione's tired hazel eyes met his cold grey ones

"I don't blame you."

Hi there, I hope you are enjoying my Fic! Please keep reading and reviewing, I really appreciate your opinions! Also, this will NOT be a Draco/Hermione fic, so if that's what u r expecting, you'll be disappointed. He's simply gaining a conscience……. Next chapter up soon.

Document created with wvWare/wvWare version 1.0.0

-->