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The Throne Reclaimed by Twitch E. Littleferret
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The Throne Reclaimed

Twitch E. Littleferret

Chapter Eighteen: The Gryffindor Breaks

The dungeon cell she was thrown into was a small one that smelled of mildew, straw and filth. There was no light, no window, only the dimness of the torches that lined the corridor. There was a filthy mattress of straw and a single bucket, Hermione assumed to relieve herself in. Most of all it was cold, cold and dreary.

But she wasn't planning on staying here very long.

As soon as her guard left her, Hermione began feeling the walls, looking for a loose stone. She remembered Harry telling her the story of how he had escaped from the dungeon when Ronald found a loose stone.

"Who are you?"

"She's a human of course."

"Didn't you feel the castle?"

"You don't think it was her, do you?"

"The stars have foreseen it."

Hermione heard these voices whispering nearby her. "Who is there?" she whispered aloud.

From the shadows in the cell in front of her, a strange creature stepped forward. Hermione had never seen anything like it in real life before and she only thought the creature to exist in myths. The front of it had the head and talons of an eagle, the rest of it a horse.

"A hippogriff," Hermione gasped.

"You're staring," it said plainly.

"Oh!" she said, remembering that they were very proud creatures. She bent down to greet him and waited for him to bow in return. "I didn't mean to be rude, it's just that I've never seen a hippogriff before."

"No one has," it replied. "Not since this foul creature had taken over this castle."

"But his reign is ending soon," another voice spoke up.

Hermione moved down her cell to see into the one diagonally across from her where another strange creature resided, half man, half horse, a centaur.

"The stars have said so. The prophecy is true, the Man-King has returned," the creature finished.

"The one who will unite our lands and bring peace to the kingdom. My herd has wished for this for many years," the hippogriff said solemnly.

Hermione didn't say anything. She was still in shock at seeing such creatures. A small shadowy figure shuffled forward carrying a tray in its arms. It had large round eyes and large bat-like ears. It looked similar to Dobby, Harry's elf. The creature slid the tray into Hermione's cell, a tray with a steaming broth, bread and a cup of water.

"Don't eat the broth," the creature said. "Empty it in your bucket. I brought you dried meat instead."

Hermione moved away from the tray. "I'm not hungry," she lied. The broth smelled absolutely delicious and she suddenly craved it, needed it.

"You must eat, my Queen," the little elf squeaked.

"Yes, you must provide nourishment for your foal," the centaur said and Hermione, shocked, backed away from the bars of her cell and retreated to the shadows. She sat down on the straw mattress and hugged her knees to her chest the best she could. She wanted to be left alone.

~*~

She eventually ate the food, throwing away the broth as the elf instructed her to do, although she did it with much hesitation. The broth just smelled too enticing. At night it was cold and the mattress was useless to protect her from the hard stone floor. In the morning, the elf brought her breakfast, telling her to throw away the porridge and eat the bread and eggs instead, she was even rewarded the delicacy of sweet cream. Noticing that Hermione was shivering, the elf brought her a blanket to keep her warm.

"Why are you so nice to me?" Hermione asked the elf.

The elf looked at her with surprise. "Because we are loyal to the True King and Queen."

"What did you say," Hermione swooped down on the elf.

"The True Queen," the elf repeated. "That's who you are. You are carrying the King's line within you. The castle felt it." Hermione's heart dropped. The elf leaned forward. "He doesn't know and an elf would rather die than give your secret away."

Hermione spent her days listening to the debates between her fellow prisoners. She learned that the centaur's name was Firenze and that he was captured in the Dark Forest around the castle for striking a False King's soldier. He was defending his herd from attack.

The hippogriff's name was Buckbeak, leader of his herd, captured for spreading the tale that the Man-King had returned. They asked her questions about him, what he was like, was he just, will he bring peace to the Kingdom, will he be fair to all creatures? Hermione, however, was silent. She honestly didn't know who was friend or foe and too much was on the line to let anything slip. One day Firenze, looking outside of his small window, announced that the time for escape was soon.

"There is a great battle looming on the horizon," he said. Hermione knew that Harry was marching to war. Did he know that Draco was alive? Did he know that she was alive?

~*~

Ron walked slowly around the garden, his wife and sister by his side. His injuries were healing slowly but his spirit was damaged. It was his job to protect his cousin and he failed miserably. She was taken by the False King, word had spread quickly throughout the land and there was a tension in the air, waiting for news for an outcome of her fate. No one wanted to say it, Harry didn't want to hear it, but the odds were very good that she was dead. Betrayed by her own husband, the Slytherin King. Very few knew of Harry and Hermione's binding but almost everyone knew of the Gryffindor King's feelings toward the young and beautiful Queen.

So it was with a heavy heart and grief that a group of Gryffindor soldiers rode hastily into the castle courtyard. Seeing Ron, they approached him, grief in their eyes.

"She's dead!" one of them said with a shaky voice. "She's dead."

"No!" Ginny gripped Ron's arm.

They presented him with a bundle, a bloodied small one. Ron didn't want to take it, he knew what was wrapped inside it. Ginny collapsed to the ground in a pile of sobs. Luna went to her and held her as she cried. Ron felt numb, his mind refused to process it, and his legs moved automatically toward the castle.

"Ron, what is it?" Harry asked as he rose from the throne. The room was crowded with Harry's friends and advisors as they were strategizing their next move in this new war.

Feeling oddly detached with no emotion, he held out the bundle. The color faded from Harry's face as he eyed it. Ron set it down on the ground and stepped away. Nobody moved for what seemed like forever until Dumbledore stepped forward.

His back to Harry, he slowly unraveled the bundle revealing the bloodied banner of the False King. There was a sharp intake of breath from Sirius and Ron only had to glance at the familiar locks of brown waves to confirm his deepest fear. There was a sob from someone in the room and a shuffle of footsteps.

"No, Harry," Sirius held the King back.

"No, let me see," Harry was struggling against him. Dumbledore quickly wrapped the bundle back up. "Let me see! Let. Me. See!"

He finally broke free and stepped forward.

"Please leave us," Dumbledore asked the others in the room and they filed out, some began to cry, others shook their heads in disbelief. Word of her death would spread quickly throughout the land.

Ron stayed behind, he felt himself unable to move. Neville stayed with Harry as did Sirius, Dumbledore and Remus.

With shaky hands, Harry slowly unwrapped the bundle, peeling back the layers of cloth until he came upon the head of his true love. He said and did nothing, his fingers ran lightly over her hair, tracing the bridge of her nose and her lips before he wrapped the bundle back up.

Ron had seen enough and left the room. His legs led him through the castle and to the library. He closed the doors behind him and walked by the shelves, his fingers running over the spines of the books his cousin so loved. In his mind, he saw her sitting in her favorite chair by the window, standing to greet him like she always did when he returned from a journey he had been on. But her image faded with the grief that suddenly settled upon him and he cried. He sank to the floor between the bookshelves and cried for the cousin he lost, the cousin he failed to protect.

Harry slowly wrapped up the bundle, his mind fighting to process what he had just seen. She was not dead. She was not dead. Someone called out to him but he didn't know who it was. He stood and walked out of the room. In a haze he went upstairs, was someone following him? He didn't know. In the back of his mind he registered sporadic cries and sobs. He turned down the corridor and Minerva hustled over to meet him, James cradled in her arms.

"Is it true?" she cried at him in desperation. "Is it true?"

Harry moved forward and cradled James' head in his hands and kissed the top of his head before moving on. He went to her room, his beloved Hermione's, locking the door behind him. He needed to be alone. He walked to her dresser where her various lotions and perfumes rested. He ran his hand lightly over these objects. He carefully lifted her brush, a few strands of hair were still embedded in it. He left the dresser to move to a wardrobe, opening the door. Her scent assaulted his senses and he finally registered the wetness on his cheeks. His shoulders shook as he gathered all her gowns in the wardrobe and hugged them to him. He wailed into the fabric, muffling his song of grief as he sank to the floor, taking the gowns with him. Images of her ran through his mind: her laugh when he ran his hands over her body to initiate their love making the morning she left, she and James in the garden playing, the look of intense love that she would give him from across the room, the heartbreak on her face when she first left him in Hufflepuff so long ago before he knew he was king, her dancing at the Hog's Head when he knew that he would lose his heart to her.

"Hermione," he said in a broken voice. He sat on the floor and let the grief overwhelm him, stifle him until he finally fell into a deep sleep only to be plagued with nightmares of her death.

~*~

He emerged from her room four days later, unclean and unshaven. He immediately went to the nursery to seek out James. He was on the floor playing with wooden blocks, tasting them to see if they were appetizing. James looked up at him, green eyes mirroring his father's.

"Mama?" he asked quietly. Harry closed his eyes, letting the sadness sink in again. James had just spoken his first word.

Harry sat down on the rug and James crawled over to him and into his lap. Harry hugged his son to him. Minerva left the room to give him some privacy and summon servants to assist him.

Harry stroked his son's soft hair. "Mama's gone," he whispered to him, kissing the side of his head. "But I swear to you James that this is the end. Voldemort will no longer hurt us or hunt us down. I swear it."

She was laid to rest next to her father and mother, underneath a peaceful and blooming cherry tree. The funeral was held during Harry's seclusion, he knew it but he didn't have the heart to attend. He couldn't even summon the strength to visit her grave site, the wound was still deep and raw. He had a promise to keep to his son and Hermione, the promise to bring an end to Voldemort and to their suffering.

The sky was grey and overcast with the smell of rain heavy in the air. A carriage was ready at the castle steps with numerous soldiers ready to ride with it.

"We will watch over him and keep him safe," Minerva said to him. Harry nodded. He was holding James in his arms, holding him one last time before relinquishing him to the witch. James let out a cry of protest. Dumbledore stepped behind him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you sure about this, Harry?" he asked, motioning to a long narrow wooden box. "You will need it to access the throne."

"I'm not after the throne, I'm after him," Harry said determinedly. Dumbledore nodded sagely and put a cloth over the box containing the Gryffindor sword within. Harry was marching to war, a war that he may not come back from and he didn't want Voldemort to get his hands on the sword again. If Harry fell, James would inherit the sword and the task his father's before him failed at.

At the head of the horses pulling the carriage was Hedwig, another gift from Harry to his son. "Watch over him," he whispered to the horse. "Let him grow to be a stronger and better rider than his father." The horse neighed softly in reply.

Ron wrapped an arm around Luna's shoulder as she and Ginny sniffled softly as the carriage made its way out of the castle gates. Harry watched his son move away from him, move to safety, a rite of passage that it seemed all the fathers in his line had done for their sons.

"What do we do now?" Ron asked, watching his nephew go farther and farther away. Molly was inconsolable and his father held her as she cried.

"We go to Arneau Tak and rally the troops to war," Harry said, not taking his eyes off of the carriage that rode away with his heart inside it.

~*~

Firenze and Buckbeak's debate on the best way to negotiate with wood nymphs was interrupted by the presence of a Death Eater. He stopped in front of Hermione's cell and a guard opened it up.

"Get up," the Death Eater said. "The Dark Lord wishes your company for tonight."

Dread filled Hermione and she shared a glance with Buckbeak and Firenze. They too, had looks of concern on their faces.

"What does he want?" she asked.

"It is not your place to question his actions," the Death Eater said angrily.

"I'm not going," Hermione said stubbornly.

"You are going. You do not question the Dark Lord."

Suddenly, Buckbeak reached out with his beak and clamped down on the arm of the guard. Firenze rushed forward and grabbed the Death Eater, muffling his yells of protest.

"Run, my Queen!" he shouted. But Hermione wasn't going to leave without freeing her new friends. She grabbed the heavy wooden bucket in her cell and swung at the guard, hitting him in the face. He fell to the floor with a thud and Hermione scrambled to get his keys.

"That one, my Queen," Buckbeak said, motioning to a sharp key. Hermione unlocked the cell and pulled back the gate as the hippogriff rushed through. Buckbeak reared and slashed at the Death Eater, killing him instantly. Hermione freed Firenze next.

"We must hurry," Buckbeak said. "We have made too much noise."

"Wait!" Firenze said as he passed a small armory and grabbed a bow and quiver of arrows. "Our only chance is a mad dash through the castle."

"No!" a voice squeaked and Hermione's elf appeared. "Through this passage!" she motioned to a stone wall. The elf pressed a series of stones and suddenly a doorway appeared. "It is the way the King escaped!"

The four of them splashed through a shallow channel of water that ran underneath the castle. The elf sprinted ahead of them, lighting the way, Firenze was next followed by Hermione and Buckbeak. Hermione stumbled once but Buckbeak gently caught her and brought her to her feet with his beak.

There was a muffled sound of shouts behind them and they knew that their escape had been discovered. Hermione picked up the pace the best she could but her dress was weighing her down.

"Climb on my back," Buckbeak offered.

Hermione looked at him. It was best if she didn't ride but she had to save her life and take a chance on her unborn child.

"I'll be gentle," Buckbeak insisted.

Reluctantly, Hermione climbed on his back. They pace quickened after that but suddenly there was a terrifying howl.

"Shadow Hounds," Firenze stopped to look back. "They have released the Shadow Hounds."

The reason why they were called this was immediately apparent to Hermione when she saw several sets of glowing red eyes in the tunnel behind her. The hounds were large and jet black so they virtually disappeared the pockets of shadows. Firenze fell behind to let loose a few arrows, each of them making their mark as yelps dotted the air. Buckbeak began to run and Hermione did her best to hold on for dear life. More yelps filled the air but Hermione knew that Firenze was running out of arrows.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, they broke free of the tunnel, the hounds hot on their heels.

"Hold on my Queen," Buckbeak said and Hermione had just enough time to throw her hands around his neck when out of the hippogriffs side, two enormous wings unfurled. He beat them once, twice then three times before she felt the weightlessness of flying. She chanced a glance at the ground below her, the fields around the castle quickly gave way to the Dark Forest where Firenze suddenly disappeared. They was a great cry of yelps from the hounds and Hermione gasped.

"Do not fret for him, my Queen," he said. "His herd has rescued him. He is safe."

~*~

Arneau Tak was peacefully quiet as Harry approached it. The Gryffindor banner soared high in the air, flapping in the breeze and he could see the guards walking between the turrets. He had come with a small escort only to see the status of the fort and to plan for provisions since Arneau Tak would be housing his army before they marched into the Shadow Lands.

"Lower the gates for the King!" a guard called out.

And as they rode in, Harry immediately noticed how empty the fort was. His instincts told him to run but just as soon as he processed that thought, there was a loud shout and several archers appeared above the group, surrounding them. The clanking of chains filled the air as the drawbridge was lifted back up sent Harry's army into a panic as they scrambled for the gates.

"It's a trap!" one of them yelled.

The gate slammed shut, trapping the men inside and they all drew their swords and dismounted. Arrows let loose from above and rained down on the men, some of them making their mark as a cry was let out.

"We have to get out, your Majesty!" one of his knights said to him. Harry drew his sword and made his way to the gate, looking for the doors by the gate but there was a group of archers in front of him, taking down his men. It was a massacre.

Harry wielded his sword and met the enemy head on. The sound of steel clanging on steel filled the air as both sides engaged in combat. In his peripheral he could see his men dropping left and right to their demises. He held his own, fighting his way to the door, thrusting and parrying until his sword collided with another and he nearly dropped his own when he saw who he was fighting.

"I take it you got my package?" Draco sneered.

"I've come back to finish the job!" Harry shot back.

"Go ahead, you'll find you're the only one standing now," Draco said nonchalantly as he ran his sword slowly along the blade of Harry's. Harry paused to take a look around himself and found that, indeed, he was alone. All his men were dead.

"Seeing as I'm about to die, I take comfort in the fact that I'll take your life first," Harry sneered.

"Oh, I'm not going to be the one to kill you," Draco smirked as he motioned to a group of soldiers behind Harry as they jumped on him and pinned him to the ground. Harry fought and struggled against them the best he could. He let out a cry of pain as Draco stepped on his wrist, taking the sword away from him. He was quickly bound and gagged and yanked to his feet by his hair.

"I need you very much alive," Draco said quietly. "The Dark Lord insists."

"Then I'll make it very difficult for you," Harry spat back. "All sorts of accidents can happen."

"If you want Hermione alive, you'll do no such thing."

Harry blinked at him. "What did you say?" he asked softly, not daring to believe him.

"Hermione's alive," Draco repeated. "The head I sent you was a false one. The Dark Lord holds her prisoner and is poisoning her for every day I don't bring you to his doorstep. It's been nearly two weeks." Draco stepped up to Harry who was having trouble processing what he had just heard. "I love her," he said harshly. "And I will bring you to the Dark Lord if I have to drag you kicking and screaming across the land. You will not stop me, Potter." He struck Harry hard, sending him to the ground unconscious.


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