Story Title: Time, Interrupted
Chapter Title: Invictus
Author: Madm_05
Rating: Strong PG-13/T
Warnings: Angst Ahoy!
Chapter Word Count: 5,134
Date: 20 July 2006
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and everyone else from Potterverse belong to JKR.
Chapter Nine: Invictus
Think of Harry. The words had become a mantra that she chanted religiously to keep herself sane. All three Malfoys came to her room whenever they wished, paying little mind to the hour, to torment her and to teach her what her rightful place was in the wizarding world. It was her twelfth day in Malfoy Manor, and she was sure the day was drawing to a close. Soon, she knew, it would be the thirteenth day of her stay. Hermione prayed that someone would come and free her soon. The Ministry, of course, hadn't bothered to check on her to be sure she was well cared for.
Even the fates were mocking her. Even when she slept there was no respite; she saw only the horrors the Dark Harry inflicted on others. There was no peace for her in her prison, there was no rest, not even in the early hours or the morning. Lucius Malfoy didn't need much in the way of sleep.
When the room was lit her first fateful night at Malfoy Manor, she had discovered the room she was kept in was filled with magical objects, each spelled to be indestructible and unmovable. The long exposure to so much magic had caused the constant tingling to become a constant ache deep in her bones, making it hard for her to move or to focus her magic. If she were to admit the truth, even the simplest of movements caused her a great deal of pain. The cold stone floor certainly wasn't helping matters any.
The Malfoys had cleverly chosen to put just enough magical objects in the room to keep her from passing out. It had taken time for them to figure out what was enough to keep her from moving easily and not let her faint, but they had managed. There were no chains or manacles in the room, but she was bound all the same. Bound by my own magic, no less. Oh, the irony.
The room itself was rather large. The walls were lined with shelves of magical objects, and on either side of the door were two suits of armour, each holding a spear. At the far end of the room was a small window with thick curtains that blocked most of the light during the day. If she was a good girl and learned her lessons, she was told, she would be allowed to have some light.
Next to the window was a small cot. If she were a good girl and learned to control her ability to sense magic, she was told, she would be able to walk there herself and sleep there instead of on the floor. Hermione snorted softly in remembrance. She had managed to crawl there on her second day, only to have the cot disappear and reappear on the other side of the room. When she had crawled to her new destination, the cot had returned to the window. And so Hermione lay on the floor in the middle of the room, no longer caring about the cot. She was well acquainted with the floor now, and no longer minded sleeping on the hard stones. Besides, it hurt to move.
She had never felt so dirty in all her life. Her hair was an uncombed, unwashed mess, and her clothes were rumpled from being worn her entire stay so far. Clean clothes, she had been told, were only for smart girls who learned their lessons. Hermione, shining in all of her Gryffindor glory, had yet to learn even the first lesson-- she refused to call anyone Master.
The Malfoys were cruel but intelligent people. As much as she hated to admit it, Lucius Malfoy was a genius. He had devised a spell that would heal any wounds he inflicted but left her to suffer in pain as if they had never been healed. That morning he had broken all of the fingers on her left hand while trying to get her to tell him her secrets before he was called away. The bones were repaired now, but still pulsed with pain when she even thought about moving them, it seemed.
They all had their own unique ways of torturing her, too. Narcissa Malfoy tended towards insults, rather than spells, but the result was often just as damaging. The Mistress of Malfoy Manor questioned her courage, asked her what she had done to save her parents the night they died. Nothing, she would think bitterly. I did nothing. It had hurt on so many levels, knowing that they would still be alive if she had not saved Horace's life, or that they might have been saved if she had done more than sit in Harmony's room.
Draco also caused her heart to ache-- it pained her to know that there had never really been a chance for him in her own time. He had been learning the Dark Arts from such a young age, there was very little hope of saving him. She wondered what he may have been like if he had been born into a kinder family. Who knows? Maybe he would have been a Hufflepuff.
Lucius himself turned the act of inflicting pain into an art form. Every day he would enter her prison and demonstrate for his son a new spell to learn. In private, however, when he was trying to learn her secrets, he used a much wider variety of methods. His favourite method, or so he had told her, was breaking each bone in each of her fingers, starting with her left pinkie and working his way right. Lucius Malfoy was very methodical. He had done it several times already, and still she refused to speak.
Yet despite her daily torture sessions, she actually was cared for-- all of her needs were met, at least. After each of her so - called lessons, her body was healed, even if the pain did not leave. Dobby had been sent in every evening to clean her, but she still felt dirty. There was something about taking a bath that was so much more cleansing than a cleaning charm to her.
Dobby also entered her room three times a day to feed her. Hermione always ate what he brought her, knowing he would be punished if he failed in his task. She was Hermione Granger, the champion of house - elves, and she would do her best to let no harm come to Dobby because of her. He had been very kind to her when he came to feed and clean her, as it was painful for her to move on her own. The two had become friends, and that annoyed the Malfoys even more.
She took great pleasure in defying the Malfoys. It seemed there was a look of constant annoyance on Lucius Malfoy's face when he came to give her a 'lesson' after she ate. It really irritated them that she would eat when Dobby asked her too, but refused to do anything they demanded of her. But her small victory over them was always followed by a great deal of pain.
And so her body was beaten, broken, and repaired again and again by the creative spells the Malfoys sent her way. Her heart ached from the words Mrs. Malfoy cast at her as deftly as any spell. Yet through it all her soul remained unconquered. They'll get me out of here soon. I'll have to thank Harry when they do free me, for keeping me sane. While the Dark Harry was her damnation, young Harry was her salvation.
The door creaked open. Looking up, Hermione saw Draco Malfoy, framed by the doorway and the light beyond. This was unusual, considering Draco usually only came in with his father for some of his lessons in how to deal with people of her 'station'. As he entered the dark room, several orbs of light followed and moved to strategic places around the room to create a dim light in the space. He was silent, just staring at her for many long moments before he finally spoke. "Smile." He said simply.
Hermione him a strange look. Smile? He wanted her to smile? She was a prisoner, for Merlin's sake! If she wouldn't call him Master, what made him think she would smile on command? "No," she replied, her voice hoarse from her last 'lesson'.
Draco's face turned an angry shade of red. "I said smile! You smiled a lot for him, now smile for me!"
"I'm sorry," Hermione replied calmly, wondering distantly who him was, "but you must have me mistaken for a dog. This may shock you, but I'm a person, not an animal." She looked up at him; his face turned an even deeper shade of red as he clenched his hands at his side.
"You filthy little Mudblood! I said smile!" Draco snarled.
Hermione smiled serenely. She didn't smile because he commanded it; she smiled because it was a piece of her old life, that remark. Even with as horrible as her life was right now, it was strangely comforting to hear Draco Malfoy call her a Mudblood. It was comforting to know that some things wouldn't change. She looked up from her place on the floor, her eerie smile still in place. Draco shifted uncomfortably.
"Funny you should call me a Mudblood," she said quietly. Hermione bit her lip as hard as she could, drawing blood. Dragging her hand towards her mouth, she weakly smeared blood on it. "For all of the mud that flows in my veins," she held her hand up for him to see, "my blood is as red as yours."
Draco looked confused for a moment then stormed out of the room. Either I got through to him, or he's gone to tell his father. All things considered, Hermione expected Malfoy Senior to arrive any moment.
She relaxed her body as best she could and began to picture Harry's face, recalling their game of chase. If she concentrated, she could hear his laughter as he chased her through the tall grass. It was her only defence against her tormentors, and she thanked whoever may have been listening for her Occlumency. Harry was her safety net, and if Malfoy ever found a way to take her memories of him… Hermione shuddered. If it weren't for Harry, she was certain Malfoy would have broken her by now.
Preparing herself for what was coming, she summoned forth her favourite memories of her dearest friend. She remembered the time he rescued her from that horrid troll, then how happy she had been when he had solved the riddle and defeated the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets. She recalled with crystal clarity riding on Buckbeak with Harry to rescue Sirius, and her pride in Harry when he finally learned the summoning charm.
The door creaked open again, revealing both Draco and Lucius. "Up for another round so soon?" Hermione goaded, her voice still hoarse. Malfoy - baiting was the only form of entertainment to be had. Besides, she consoled herself, he won't do anything permanent, he won't do anything that will risk his role as my guardian. He's going to hit me with all sorts of nasty spells anyways, I might as well do something to deserve them.
It was foolhardy of her, she knew, but part of her hoped one day he would get so angry he would make a mistake that would somehow lead to her freedom. Maybe today he'll hit himself with one of his own curses, she thought darkly.
Lucius sneered and delivered a harsh kick to her ribs. Hermione gasped in pain. She knew full well she was inviting his wrath, but the way she looked at it, she needed to get her fun when and where she could. She didn't want to consider that she had simply been on the receiving end of the Cruciatus Curse too many times and had lost her common sense. "Fighting like a muggle, are you? Your mother must be so proud." She braced herself for the pain she knew would come.
Normally, Hermione Granger loved to be right. It was one of her greatest pleasures in life.
"Crucio!"
But nowadays she hated it.
Think of Harry.
--Grimmauld Place--
Remus looked horrible. In fact, he hadn't looked this bad since James and Lily had died that fateful Halloween night. His clothes were wrinkled, his face was haunted, and he desperately needed to shave. He downed the last of his drink and looked down at the large pile of papers. There was so much work yet to be done.
Long past the point of exhaustion, Remus gave his eyes a brief rest and looked at his companions. To his right were the Tonks'. Ted, Andromeda and Dora were all going through wizarding law books, trying to find a loophole. Poor Dora had been fired yesterday for no reason at all, though they suspected Malfoy was behind it. The only part she had been able to catch was something about a conflict of interests and bringing her home life to work.
To his left was Sirius, who was furiously writing letters to his contacts with Horace whimpering at his feet. Horace hadn't been very active since Hermione had been taken away, and spent most of his time lying on the floor, whining. Even his Order of Merlin had lost its shine. Sirius had decided it was time to take a more political stand and to bring honour back the name of Black. Harmony was sleeping fitfully in her crib. An intelligent baby, she cried often, and screamed "My - My!" in hopes her sister would come to her. He, himself, was filling out paperwork.
Harry was in Hermione's room, doing what, nobody knew. The adults were all worried about him, since he had only left Hermione's room to eat and relieve himself since she had been taken, but there was little they could do for him. Harry had even refused to open his birthday presents until Hermione was home again. They could only pray she would be returned to them soon.
No matter what they did, Malfoy thwarted them at every turn. Sirius was putting everything he had into getting Hermione back though. He was calling in old debts and favours left and right, and practically pouring galleons into the laps of the same Wizengamot member Lucius had. He was also keeping a recording of his conversations with those who admitted to accepting bribes from Malfoy.
It seemed he had paid off more than half the Wizengamot, and played a sympathy card with the public by having the Prophet print articles about how Hermione had been living with a werewolf. In fact, he and Sirius had been hiding the Prophet from the kids for fear that they would see all of what he was dealing with. That was how Malfoy had managed to avoid a second custody hearing-- he simply lined the Wizengamot's pockets with galleons and gained public sympathy so that the public wouldn't care whether or not due process was followed. Nobody cared if a werewolf was cheated. Sirius understood Remus completely, having been in a similar situation himself once.
The werewolf sighed and rubbed his eyes. The eight days the auror commander promised had come and gone-- in another hour the thirteenth day would begin. There's no rest for the weary, he thought. Remus turned back to the papers and began work on filing his appeal again.
--Hermione's Room--
Harry smiled. He was finally ready to go get his best friend in the whole wide world. He wasn't nearly as good as Hermione was at wandless magic, and he had a horrible headache, but he was sure that he would be able to save her. Harry remembered how she could change the colour and size of things and wished he could do that. It wouldn't help him, but he still thought it was really neat.
He looked around at what he had done. Emerald flames danced on the fabric of her curtains, but never burned a single thread. It was really hard to make them catch fire since Sirius and Remus had put spells on them-- that was probably why the curtains wouldn't burn.
Next he looked at the small object flying in circles around him. It was Hermione's little blue dog Disco, flying clockwise around him. It had taken him a while to make it move, but now he could make it move very fast, and he was very proud of himself.
Using his magic, Harry put the fire out and made Disco fly back to Hermione's bed. Slowly, Harry lowered himself onto the floor from where he had been levitating. He liked being able to make himself float. It was a lot like flying and it was a lot of fun. Hopefully being able to make himself float would help him save his Hermione.
She was right all along, he realized. She had told him over and over that he needed to use an emotion to make things happen. He hadn't understood before, but he did now. He had found a way to use an emotion to use magic. It made him happy to know it would make Hermione proud of him.
Harry looked outside. It was very dark, so it had to be very late. Good. Everyone should be sleeping, so he could go get Hermione and bring her home. It would be a very good surprise for Sirius and Remus and Dora and Harmony. Even Horace would be happy to see Hermione, he was sure.
It was then that he realized, much to his frustration, that he had no idea where Hermione was or how to get to her. He frowned and began to pace Hermione's room angrily. He wanted to go get Hermione and he didn't want to wait any longer. Furious, Harry stomped his foot and disappeared, the sound of wind the only indication of the magic he had cast.
--Malfoy Manor--
Think of Harry. Think of Harry. Hermione writhed on the ground, her thoughts focused on her green - eyed friend. The copper tang of blood filled her mouth as she bit through her lip again, trying desperately not to cry out, trying to keep what remained of her pride intact. If she could only hang on until help came. The Divine Beings had given her a mission, surely they would find a way to free her-- she couldn't carry it out if she were dead. Think of Harry.
Suddenly Hermione heard a strange noise in the corner of the room. A moment later, Malfoy Senior released his spell. Weakly lifting her head, Hermione looked in the direction of the noise and found herself awestruck. It was Harry! He stood in the corner, one of the orbs of light shining just behind his head, surrounding him in a soft glow. The shadows cast over his face and his grim expression made him look very much like an avenging angel. Lucius Malfoy stared at the boy who had somehow appeared in his home.
"Don't hurt my friend!" Harry snapped as he ran at the wizard. Furious, the young boy tackled the older man and knocked them both to the ground, magic forgotten. Angry, Harry flailed and kicked at anything he could. He had never been so angry in all his life-- how dare this man hurt his Hermione!
Lucius seemed to regain his senses and shoved Harry away, knocking him into Draco. The two boys tumbled to the ground in a tangled heap. "Well well, isn't this quite a surprise? Imagine, the Boy Who Lived dropping in for a visit. I can only imagine you missed your filthy little Mudblood friend and your magic reacted-- you certainly couldn't have apparated here. Clearly you need a lesson on your proper rank, boy. It doesn't do for the pure to mix with those less than worthy."
"Hermione," Harry grunted as he stumbled to his feet, "Is my friend, you big bully. Leave her alone." He glared ferociously at the older man.
Lucius smirked. "A lesson, indeed. Don't worry. I'll teach you everything you need to know. Who knows? You thwarted my former master; perhaps you could replace him as the new Dark Lord? With the proper training of course. Doubtless, you'll be a better protégé than my own son. I'll guide you. I'll even give you your first lesson now," he said maliciously as he raised his wand.
Not Harry! Hermione panicked as she lay on the floor. I can't let him do that Harry! If it had been a threat against her, if Malfoy had been talking about teaching her about her rightful place, she would have simply tolerated the pain and waited for someone to save her. She would not, however, tolerate anyone hurting Harry if she could help it. Desperate to protect her friend, she summoned the last of her strength and focused just enough of her magic to knock the wand from Lucius Malfoy's hand. Exhausted, she let her head drop back down to the ground. Twelve days of torture could really take it out of a person.
Lucius growled in frustration and grabbed at Harry, yanking the small boy up by the collar of his shirt. "I'll teach you, you insolent brat!" He raised his hand and struck Harry hard across the face. A trickle of blood ran down from the corner of his lips.
Hermione pushed herself up just enough to see the look of horror on Harry's face. The Dursleys, she realized. He's probably remembering the Dursleys. Draco, she saw, had simply been lying on the floor, whimpering and rubbing his elbow. Hermione couldn't help but snort. Throughout her entire stay with the Malfoys, she had endured a wide variety of tortures, and he was whining over hitting his elbow. She supposed her lack of tolerance for his childishness was because he had been a part of the torture sessions.
She looked back to her friend. His eyes wide with fright, Harry did the only thing he could think of. Pushing aside his fear, he swung his body forward and kicked Lucius with all of his might-- right in the groin.
The grown man doubled over in pain and dropped Harry as Draco ran from the room, screaming for his mother. He lunged at Harry, who scrambled away. Furious, he grabbed Harry's ankle as the young boy tried to wriggle away. Harry wiggled, squirmed, and kicked so much that Lucius pulled off his shoe, sock and all.
"Dobby!" He snarled. There was a loud cracking sound like that of a whip as the fearful house - elf appeared. Frustrated, he tossed the shoe over his shoulder and snapped, "Get my wife, elf!" Dobby didn't hear, for the shoe had landed in his arms, the sock still inside.
Still lying on the floor, her upper body propped on her elbow, Hermione felt a glow of triumph. Lucius Malfoy may not have known it, but he had just made quite a mistake; he had presented Dobby with clothes. Harry was slowly wiggling his way towards her. Hermione desperately wished she could reach out a hand to him, but sitting up had sapped a great deal of her strength.
"Dobby, you insolent elf!" Lucius snapped as he grabbed onto the leg of Harry's trousers. "I told you to get my wife! You'll be punished for this!" He began to pull Harry towards him. Harry, frantic to get away, kicked as hard as he could with his other foot, his shoe hitting the older man's nose with a sickening crunch. Lucius growled and grabbed hold of Harry's ankle. A moment later, he released his hold, howling in agony. Hermione caught a brief glance of his hand-- it looked as though it had been burned.
Free, Harry scrambled over to his friend and pulled her into a hug. The young witch winced in pain. "Hermione! Are you okay?" He asked breathlessly.
"I'm fine, Harry," she smiled tightly, hiding the ache that wracked her body. "We-- we need to get out of here. Now."
Harry looked distraught. "But I don't know how I got here, and I don't know how to get out of here either!" He looked at her, panic reflected in his six - year - old eyes. "What do we do?"
She took a moment to catch her breath. "We have to--" Hermione trailed off as she caught sight of Lucius Malfoy.
His face was white with rage as blood trickling down from his broken nose, and his lips were drawn back in a fierce snarl, a malicious glint in his eyes. "You little fools," he hissed. "Did you think it would be so easy? That I, Lucius Malfoy, could be beaten by mere children?" He raised the wand he had retrieved from the floor and glared at them. "I shouldn't have bothered trying to learn your secrets. You're more trouble than you're worth, the both of you. Avada--"
"No!" Dobby yelled, running in front of the children. "Dobby is free now, and Dobby doesn't like the way you hurt the little Miss, Dobby doesn't like the way you want to hurt the friend of the little Miss. Dobby won't let you hurt them anymore." The house elf declared defiantly. Instead of replying, Lucius turned his wand on the elf, his face livid.
"No!" Hermione gasped, raising her arm as if to ward off the blow. At the same moment, she felt a surge of strange magic, and with a loud bang, Malfoy flew up into the air, only to be impaled on one of the armour suits' spears when he fell. Harry and Hermione watched in horror as he choked, blood oozing out of his mouth before he drew his final breath.
All was silent for a moment before Harry belatedly put his hand over Hermione's eyes, as though to shield her from the sight. Suddenly, Hermione gasped as a horrible thought flashed through her mind. It's death for a house elf to kill a wizard, and that magic I felt certainly wasn't mine! Dobby looked like he was going to be ill.
"Dobby, I-- I want you to be my house elf." She said quickly, weakly pushing Harry's hand away from her face. I can't believe I'm going to have a house elf. She needed Dobby to serve her so that she could tell him to keep his silence. If he were a free elf, he would be obligated to tell the entire truth, but if she owned him, she could order him not to speak, and he would be unable to break her orders. If she could testify or talk with someone of authority, she could claim that she did it on accident, like she had done at her custody hearing. Given her injuries, she was sure no one would blame her for trying to defend herself. Maybe he'll let me free him afterwards.
"Dobby must bind himself to the Master of a household. The little Miss is not a Master of a household." Dobby gave her a mournful look. "Dobby is a bad elf. The little Miss should not want Dobby."
"You're a very good elf Dobby, you saved us." She said quickly. "What about Harry then? Harry is the head of his household."
"I am?" Harry asked, puzzled.
"Yes, you are," she said, panting for breath. "You are the last of the Potters, and that makes you the head of your household, even if you are underage." I'm so tired. I just want to rest.
Dobby looked at Harry in awe. "The little Miss' friend is Harry Potter? Dobby has heard that Harry Potter was a great wizard, but Dobby did not know that Harry Potter is so brave and loyal that he would go to rescue his friend." His large green eyes filled with tears. "Dobby would be honoured to serve Harry Potter."
"What?" Harry asked, clearly puzzled. "I don't understand. Who are you? What are you?"
"I is Dobby, sir, and Dobby is a house - elf sir, and Dobby would very much like to serve Harry Potter." Dobby replied.
"Quick Dobby, bind yourself to Harry, please." Hermione whispered, fighting to stay awake. She had pushed herself too hard and was far past the point of exhaustion, but she needed to protect Dobby. Nearly two weeks of constant pain and little sleep were catching up with her.
"Does Harry Potter wish to have Dobby as his servant?" The elf asked formally. After a quick glance at Hermione, Harry nodded slowly. Dobby, tears of joy in his eyes, reached out and touched the hem of Harry's outer robes, covering them both with a soft, mist - like glow. "Dobby serves the great Harry Potter," the little elf said in admiration as he looked at his new Master. "What can Dobby do for his Master?"
Harry cringed. "Please don't call me that Dobby; I want us to be friends. But do you know how to get us out of here? Hermione's hurt, and I want to leave and get her help."
"Don't tell anyone," Hermione interrupted. "Don't tell anyone anything about what has happened," she said desperately.
Dobby grabbed hold of his ears and began to pull on them. "Dobby is bound to the commands of his new Master and his Master's family."
"It's okay Dobby, Hermione and I are married." Harry said simply. "And if Hermione says not to tell anyone, than there is a very good reason, so don't tell anyone, okay?"
Dobby nodded. "Dobby understands. Dobby will obey his Master and his Mistress." Hermione cringed inwardly. She didn't like being called a Mistress. It made her sound cruel.
"That's good Dobby, but Hermione and I really need to leave, since Hermione is hurt and that bad man is dead. Do you know how we--" Harry was cut off when the door banged open.
Narcissa Malfoy stood in the doorway. Taking in the scene in a glance, she hissed angrily and drew her wand as Draco hid behind her robes, crying. "You! You nasty little--"
Hermione closed her eyes against whatever spell would be cast when she felt something grab onto her ankle and felt a strange sensation rush over her. It felt almost as though she were falling. When she opened her eyes again, she was blinded by a bright light overhead.
Distantly, she heard a great deal of commotion, but couldn't bring herself to be concerned. Dobby wouldn't have taken them to a place that wasn't safe. Worn out from her trials, Hermione let herself rest, and for the first time since she had journeyed to the past, Morpheus granted her peaceful dreams.
---------
A/N: The title, in case anyone is curious or recognizes it, is from my favourite poem, "Invictus" by Willam Ernest Henley. If you're feeling froggy, read it, it's wonderful.
And before anyone comments on Harry's wandless magic, there will be a discussion between Harry and Hermione about it in the next chapter. No, I didn't kill Draco. He's only six, and I'm not going to kill a kid. As for Malfoy Senior, well, he needed to go. I have plans, and all he'd do is cause me problems.
Well, I would like to thank everyone for reading, and give special thanks to those who reviewed. Please read and review!
Cheers,
Madm_05