Intoxication

"All that we see or seem

is but a dream within a dream."

- Edgar Allan Poe

Chapter 3: Red Eyes

Drip. Drip. Drip.

A groan echoed through the room.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Pain. Nothing but pain coursed through her head.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Hermione squinted as three water droplets fell onto her forehead, making small splashes that splattered onto her face. Looking up, she saw a cracked stone above her head that was the source of the slowly dripping water.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

She watched as three more droplets fell, one getting into her eye. Shaking her head to get the droplets was quickly found to be a mistake as pain ricocheted through her brain.

"Ooohh", she moaned, squeezing her eyes shut. As she slowly opened her eyes again, she raised her chin and slowly took in her surroundings. It was dark. Dark and wet. Green moss hugged the walls, and the smell of death hung in the air. She went to raise her hand to her head but realized her wrists were bound tightly to the chair's armrests. Pulling her legs forward let her know her ankles were in the same situation, tied to the chair's legs. Peering her head around, she didn't see anyone in the cells around her and there were no voices or sounds to be heard other than the water dripping onto the top of her head.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Sighing deeply, Hermione felt a heavy pang in her chest as she remembered the events that led to this moment. She was no doubt imprisoned at his place of business.

"Fuck." She hissed to herself. Her eyes fell to her mud covered hands that were starting to feel numb from being tied so tightly. Wiggling her fingers, every bone and organ in her body sank. Her breathing became shallow and her mouth dry. Looking down to her chest where the locket and ring laid up until her capture, were no longer there.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck", Hermione cried, her eyes quickly brimming with tears. She started rocking in the chair, moving it side to side so it clattered against the cement ground. Her breathing was coming fast as the dark edges started creeping into her vision again. Another panic attack. Sweat started beading across her forehead and her throat felt rough.

Where is he?

Where is my voice?

No one was helping her. He always talked to her down when she was having a panic attack. There was no smooth, male voice reaching out through her subconscious, no voice talking her down.

She was completely alone.

"Don't leave me", Hermione whisper cried to herself as she bent over, feeling the pinch of the rope tied around her midsection pull on her.

Remember what he said. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.

Slowly doing what he had told her in the past, the dark edges started receding. Still hanging her head, she breathed loudly out of her mouth and in through her nose.

What the fuck am I going to do?

This was the definition of being stuck between a rock and a hard place. She had no wand on her, her horcruxes were gone, and Merlin knew if her friends had made it to the new safe house. If they had, they surely would know at this point she had been captured.

Would they try to get her back? She almost snorted to herself as she figured no. Harry might think this is where she might actually belong with the rate she had been killing people. Ron would be the one that would insist on rescuing her and she would imagine Harry would agree out of familial obligation. Would they get to her in time? Would they even be able to figure out where she is? She didn't even know where she was. The thing she was sure of, though, was she wouldn't be alone for long.

Time to assess.

Squirming around on her seat, she didn't feel her wand on her.

No matter. I'll just have to be careful with not to deplete my magic until I can get my wand back.

Focusing on her wrists, she started to feel the singe of heat against her skin before it was outright burning her. Grinding her teeth together, she forced herself not to move as the rope around her wrists was burning off of her and in the process, blistering her skin.

A small price to pay.

With her wrists free, she reached up and pulled at the rope around her midsection followed by her ankles. She quickly rolled all of the rope into a loop and kept it tightly in her hand as she slowly got up from the chair, making sure her legs were stable enough to move. Hermione had no idea how long she had been out for or how long she had been here. She could have just gotten there; it could have been two to three days. Feeling sturdy enough on her feet, she approached the cell door, careful not to scuff her boots too loudly that would alert someone. She was honestly surprised at the lack of guards or Death Eaters, figuring that they would have wanted to make sure there was no chance of her escape.

They were probably too excited about getting two horcruxes back to their master. She had no idea how the horcruxes worked or what they would do for him, but she wasn't sticking around to find out. Waving her hand in front of the cell door she whispered 'Alohamora' and the cell door swung open noiselessly. With a deep breath, she stepped over the cell threshold and stalked silently down the corridor, passing cells that some were empty, some held half rotten corpses that explained the smell of death. Taking care not to let her eyes linger on the liquid of rotting bodies, she approached the stone staircase cautiously. Still no guards.

Maybe they are just this dumb?

Grabbing onto the wall for support, she ascended them until she reached the door at the top. Moving her matted hair to the side, she pressed her ear against the wood and tried to see if she could hear anybody.

Again, nothing.

She pressed into the wooden door and opened it with a crack, not at all prepared for what her eyes were about to see.

Polished marble. The hallway was beautiful. High ceilings that had chandeliers hanging every few feet, wide windows that arched skyward revealing the night sky beyond that shone with stars, its curtains billowing against the wind. The black and white checkered floor shone like it was made of crystal and as she stepped out onto it with her mud covered shoes, she could practically see her reflection in it. Looking behind her and in front, there was still nobody. Not a whisper of a person was near her.

"What the fuck is going on?" Hermione whispered to herself. This was too good to be true. There was no fucking way that they would go to such great lengths to capture her only to leave her this unattended. She placed her hands on her hips as she took in the scenario she was currently in.

Of the few things she knew, she knew these things:

She was captured by Nott and Death Eaters. She was being held in a prison. A lousy prison, but a prison, nonetheless. She knew there had to be Death Eaters somewhere in this vicinity, but they didn't seem to care about being close to her which is what didn't make sense. Thinking back to the rope, the empty cell, the chair… She had to admit, it was all too easy. It took her no time at all to escape and surely they'd have to know that. Or did they think so little of her and her skills as a muggleborn that maybe they thought she wouldn't be able to do wandless magic?

No. Nott would have told them to keep an eye on her. He had seen firsthand how ruthless and powerful she was. He even saw her do wordless magic. He would warn them against her, wouldn't he? Staying silent longer, she hoped her male companion would speak out and give her words of confidence and advice, but there was nothing. The only sound was her breathing and the curtains swishing around the hallway. Looking down both ways, like she was about to cross a street, she was unsure of which way to go. One side ended sooner with a doorway at the end of the hallway, the other side seemed to go on for a while and took a turn to the left. Closing her eyes, she tried to listen to her own inner voice. If he wouldn't talk to her, maybe her own consciousness would.

Furrowing her brows, she huffed angrily as no voice, even her own, said anything to her.

"Fuck me…" she mumbled angrily and turned to the left, the side with a door at the end of the hallway. When in doubt, go the least amount of distance. It turned out to ultimately not matter because as she carefully opened that door, it just led to another beautifully decorated hallway that looked identical to the hallway she had come from. Shutting the door behind her she stalked down that hallway only to reach another door that upon opening it looked exactly like the hallway she had just walked in and the one before that.

"What the fuck?" She turned and looked down the hallway she had just left with confusion. It all looked exactly the same! She ran down the hallway to return to the cell door she had entered from, but everything looked the same. The same windows, the same mirrored floor, the same number of doors lining the hallway. Grunting to herself, she started ripping all of the doors open frantically, trying to find the door to the cells she was stuck in. But every door revealed the same thing. I brick wall.

"Ah!" Hermione screamed and slammed the sixth door she had tried shut. Running to the windows, she ripped the curtains to the side as she stuck her head outside. There was nothing.

Looking up, there was no sky.

"What the fuck?" Hermione hissed. Where am I? How is there no sky?

Looking down, all she saw were lit windows that repeated over and over again. From her advantage point, she could see through the windows that every floor looked the same as the one she was started hyperventilating as she pulled her head back in and slid to the floor. The dark edges… Coming in slowly…

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.

Hermione knew she was smarter than this. Once, she had been heralded as the brightest witch of her age and now she's letting some bad horror movie clichés get the better of her. Resting her elbows on her bent knees, she rested her head in her hands as thoughts went through her head fast and painfully.

Running around was pointless. No door led to anywhere and no hallway ended. They were fucking with her. She realized now why it was so easy to escape what she thought was her imprisonment. It's because that wasn't it.

This was.

She would admire the sheer madness of it if she wasn't the one stuck in it. But right now, she had to get unstuck. Sighing with what was almost defeat, Hermione stood up and looked at the darkness beyond the window.

This couldn't be reality. There was no sky or ground for Merlin's sake. Was she stuck in her own mind? Was she pulled into someone else's? She had to break the psyche. At least attempt to because there was no escaping otherwise. This place was designed purposefully and she almost wanted to be flattered if it was designed specifically for her.

The longer she stayed trapped her, the more she could feel rage build in herself. Merlin, she couldn't wait to fucking kill someone. She felt the curtain brush against her shoulder as it danced in the wind, catching her attention. Looking up, she saw the beautiful, ornate bronzed curtain holder high above her. Her eyes focused like a lion's as she gripped the curtain and started pulling hard on it. Nothing happened at first, but as she planted her feet against the wall for leverage, she started feeling it move to her will. With a final tug, she fell backwards onto the ground as she shielded herself from the falling, hard curtain rod. It smashed beside her, echoing loudly in the hallway. Turning to look at it, she saw a fracture in the floor, like glass splintering. Jumping to her feet, she lifted the rod and using all of her strength, brought it down hard against the floor. The splinter fractured more and as she kept bringing it down over and over again, all she thought of was the anger she felt at being captured by fucking Death Eaters and that her horcruxes were taken away from. That she allowed herself to be taken so easily, that she didn't get the chance to kill the fuckers that took her.

Sweat was building on her like a thin layer, her breath was harsh and hot in her face as she slammed the rod down one final time breaking the floor beneath her completely, the sound of glass shattering echoing around her. The was no floor beneath her to break her fall. She just kept falling. Her eyes cast upwards as she fell weightless through the darkness as she saw the hole she fell through getting smaller and smaller. Maybe this is what death was. Maybe this was her descent to whatever held for in the afterlife. She thought she would feel panicked the day she would die, but as she fell deeper into the void, she felt her eyes fluttering shut as a peaceful blanket settled over her.

"Tonight, we witness a miracle!"

Hermione's eyes cracked open, a terrible feeling washing over her.

Like she was on Death's door.

She was lying on a cold, hard floor that was swaying lightly, like she was suspended. Opening her eyes further she saw chains. And bodies. Hanging chains and bodies hung around, suspended from the stone ceiling like decorations. Some victims were fortunate enough to be trapped in cages while others were hung by their wrists that were now raw and bleeding, blood trickling down their bodies as they hung there for who knew how long. Most looked like they were barely alive and others she knew were very clearly dead. Some faces she recognized, some she didn't. Hermione found herself to be one of the fortunate ones in that she had her own personal cage that she was trapped in.

Lucky me. Her eyes scanned both the dead and barely alive bodies that were hanging around her and had to cover her mouth to cover the scream that wanted to escape her as her eyes settled on the mangled, hanging body of Bill Weasley. His corpse was hanging from broken wrists and his insides were now on the outside as his long red hair hung dully in his slumped over face. Beside him, beautiful Fleur was in a similar position, but Hermione could just barely make out the small rise and fall of her chest, each breath bringing her closer to the death.

"Dear God", Hermione whispered to herself as she rolled onto her back, tears pooling into her eyes as they flowed freely onto the cold, steel floor under her. She didn't care if her sobs rattled her cage and brought attention to her. She didn't care if her death would be the same as theirs. All she cared about now, is that death found her swiftly and quickly.

"Tonight, we witness a miracle!"

Hermione heard a man shout below her. Inhaling deeply, willing her eyes to dry, she pushed herself to the edge of the cage, trying her best not to look at Bill and Fleur, as she peered down below her. There was at least 50 Death Eaters below her, all wearing long cloaks and hoods over their heads to mask their faces. No doubt that fucker Nott was down there… The room they were in looked like a cathedral that was slowly falling apart and had the pews taken out. Stained glass windows basked the room in a light that would have made it look beautiful and a time of rejoice had the situation not been so dire.

"Tonight, we rejoice!"

Ironic…

The man addressing the audience was standing on a stage before them, a dark throne-like chair was empty behind him. She watched as Nagini wrapped herself around it's legs as the man continued to speak. His voice sounded vaguely familiar, recalling from the fighting grounds, but she couldn't tell who it was with his hood on. As he continued to tell the enraptured crowd how monumental this night would be, he extended out his arm and let the items in his hand fall from it.

Hermione's ears started ringing, her mouth went dry as her eyes fixated on her horcruxes hanging from the chain that was held in this stranger's fists, the thought of Bill and Fleur now far from her mind. They did have them. She couldn't believe how monumentally she fucked up. Because of her obsession with those cursed objects, she delivered them practically into his hands.

But…

Even now…

She couldn't take her eyes off of the ring and locket. Even now, trapped, her friends ripped to shreds next to her, and with no light at the end of this dark, torturing tunnel, she still ached for them. To hold them. To feel them against her skin. To have them feel like they were hers again. To feel drunk off of their power again.

Through all of this, the Death Eater on the stage continued talking.

"Tonight, we witness our Lord, our Master, achieve what he spent his younger years working so hard for. Tonight, we see his power in action. Tonight, we will witness what he is truly capable of!"

Cheers and applauding erupted from the room. With each clap, Hermione felt her heart thud in her chest. She watched as the man hovered a large cauldron onto the stage and place it down gently in front of him.

"My lord… If I may?" the masked Death Eater bowed and held out his hand.

The horror.

The terror.

Death himself seemed to appear out of thin air. Although Hermione couldn't see him, she could feel him. The room felt colder, the feeling of dread hung in the air. She could see the dark magic practically rolling off of him like smoke from dry ice. She watched, gripping the bars beside her face, as he extended a bony, pale, fragile looking hand towards the Death Eater's outstretched hand as an offering to help him towards the cauldron.

Hermione watched as he accepted the ring and locket, closing his pale fingers over the items. He extended his hand over the cauldron and turned his closed hand over the black liquid, Hermione's chain hanging from his hand the entire time. At once he opened his hand and she watched with shock as the items fell into the liquid in a cloud of ash causing the liquid to start boiling.

"There is only one more item we need", the Death Eater announced, and his eyes lifted up to meet Hermione's. She watched with shock and horror as everyone turned around and cast their eyes upwards to look at her, silence filling the air and terror so thick she could taste it. The only one who didn't look at her was him. He continued to stare at the boiling black liquid.

"Bring her to me!" the Death Eater ordered, and she could feel her small cage being lowered to the ground.

"No… No!" Hermione yelled out and desperately yanked on the bars all around her, praying one was loose enough to pry open.

But Lady Luck was not on her side today. All the bars remained where they were and as she got closer to the ground, she could hear the snickers and the disgusted sounds coming from the monsters around her.

"Mudblood!" The word sounded like it was being echoed around the room, but it was actually just the amount of times it was being said by different people.

"Burn her!" she heard a woman yell as her cage finally landed against the cobblestone floor with a clang.

"Bleed her dry!"

"Rip her apart!"

"Cut her head off!"

"Kill her!"

"All in due time!" the Death Eater on the stage announced," All will be done to her! But for now, we need her alive and somewhat well. Bring her to me."

The door of the cage slid open as she pushed herself as far into the cage as she possibly could. The irony of wanting to find a way out not a few moments before and now she didn't want to leave it did not escape her.

She saw the man flourish his wand and she could feel an invisible tug at her feet as she started getting dragged out of the cage.

"Noooo!" she screamed and flipped over, grabbing onto the bars so hard that she felt like her shoulders were going to pop out of their sockets. Tears burned in her eyes, and she could feel all of the blood in her body rush to her face as she willed her fists to stay clamped around the bars. Death Eaters on either side of her brought out their wands and waved them towards her. She could feel a stinging in her hands as the bars started to turn red from the heat that was charmed to them. Hermione could feel her skin melting as the bars continued to get redder and redder, but she forbade herself from releasing. All eyes were on her, but it was when his eyes fell on her did she feel it. The feeling of starch coldness fell onto her back as it felt like a wave of ice rolled over her. Dark tendrilled magic started weaving itself around her, wrapping itself around her legs, into her torso, over her arms, and then her hands; slowly uncurling her fingers from the bars.

"No, please", Hermione gritted out through clenched teeth. She pressed her molars so hard she thought they would crack. With one last tug from the dark magic weaving it's way, her hands released and her body went flying across the floor towards the platform that held Death. Clawing at the ground in one last ditch effort proved to be futile, only resulting in the tips of her fingers being scraped off as they left a trail of blood behind her. Her body was dragged onto the stage and as soon as she was at their feet, Hermione felt herself levitating in the air.

All that could be seen from him was his glowing red eyes in a dark hood as they bore into her. Brown meeting red. Honey meeting lava. He wasn't even human anymore. He looked more like a thin ghoul-like creature, and she could tell underneath his robes that he was nothing but skin and bones. Had he not had his powers, she would never be scared of the frail old man in front of her.

But unfortunately for her, he was the most powerful being in the world now. And she was at his mercy.

"Do I get any last words?" Hermione grunted against the chokehold she felt at her throat as she hovered above the ground.

"Silence!" the Death Eater yelled at her and struck her across the face. Pain shot through her skull like a firework as she saw stars in her vision. Laughter erupted from the crowd followed by claps. She could feel the lion's pride that had long since been buried starting to surge through her chest. Straightening her head, she leaned back and spit forward the wad of blood that had formed in her mouth eliciting gasps from the crowd. The bloody spit landed right at his feet and Hermione frowned that it missed him. With a wave of his bony hand, she felt the chokehold get tighter and she started gasping for air.

"The last ingredient!" the Death Eater yelled out and hovered Hermione's arm straight over the cauldron," Blood from a muggleborn sacrifice!"

She cried out in a hoarse sob as she felt the skin on her forearm separate and blood flowed from her arm into the liquid causing fog to start rolling out of it. The chokehold remained as Hermione was pushed away from the cauldron, her arm still oozing red liquid as it flowed freely from her. She wasn't sure if it was the lack of oxygen or the sheer power of him as she watched him hover off the ground and over the cauldron, his robes just above the boiling liquid.

"And now, a miracle that even Merlin himself couldn't even have imagined!" the Death Eater announced and stepped back.

In one second, one blink, one inhale, Voldemort collapsed into the cauldron like it was the deep end of a pool and disappeared beneath the liquid.

Silence.

Nothing but thick, tangible silence.

Not even the popping liquid made a sound.

Hermione knew he had to still be alive because the chokehold around her neck still remained and it couldn't have been the Death Eater next to her. There was no way his magic would have lasted this long or been as strong for this length of time.

A harrowing man's scream filled the air causing Hermione to wince and people to look around panicked. It sounded like it was coming from everywhere and anywhere and it sounded torturous. Hermione brought her hands to her ears, her blood covered hand feeling warm and sticky against her head.

She couldn't take it.

The scream felt like it was coming from her. From the depths of her soul. She could feel the pain coursing through her as it felt like her insides were boiling. And just as she was on the precipice of falling apart…

It stopped.

The screaming.

The pain that was coursing through her.

It all stopped.

Hermione felt woozy from the pain that had been flowing through her and from the lack of breathing when a dark figure emerged from the liquid, rising like a phoenix.

It had to be Voldemort, but it didn't look like him. The hood was still drawn, and the red eyes were still visible, but the build…

It was fuller. She could see the muscle through the cloth and the height from a now straight back. His hands had color and looked almost healthy.

What the fuck….

Was this Voldemort? Who the fuck is this?

Her vision was blackening as she felt like she couldn't take anymore inhalations. Maybe this was her death. Slowly suffocating while she watched something unnatural and horrific take place. With heavy, blurred eyes, she saw the dark cloaked figure turns towards her.

With a wave of the now muscled, colored hand, she felt herself inhale deeply and her body hit the floor. All she remembered seeing before blacking out was red.

Deep red eyes.

"Wakey, wakey Granger!"

Hermione sat up, coughing from the large wave of cold water that hit her in the face. She was about to open her eyes when another wave of ice cold water hit her face.

"Stop!" she coughed, trying to wipe the water from her face.

"One more?"

"Yeah, I think one more!" She heard someone laugh.

Another wave.

Sputtering and coughing, she opened her eyes and saw through her dripping wet hair Nott and Zabini smiling smugly at her.

"Good morning!" Nott smiled," Sleep well?"

"Oh, yeah", Hermione rolled her eyes and wiped her wet hair off of her forehead," But I didn't get a chocolate on my pillow."

"Tsk, tsk, tsk", Zabini snickered and shook his head," We'll have to talk to housekeeping."

"You just can't trust the help these days", Nott shook his head, placing his hands on his hips. Hermione looked around her. She was in the exact cell she woke up to originally when she was in that weird, mind fuck loop game. Was this an actual cell or was she trapped in a mental cat and mouse game again?

"Is this real?" Hermione quirked an eyebrow and eyed them suspiciously. They both looked at each other in confusion before turning to her.

"As opposed to…?" Nott fished further, rolling his hand in front of him, indicating for her to finish.

Narrowing her eyes, she turned her head slightly. She had to test them.

"What does the hallway look like outside of the door?" Hermione asked," When you guys leave?"

"It looks like old stone and cobblestone?" Zabini laughed at her," Same as the chapel."

Not white and glossy and marbled. This definitely had to be real life.

"So, we are in a church", Hermione nodded," I'm assuming he thinks he's God?"

"Isn't he?" Nott smirked at her and kneeled down in front of her," I don't recall any mortal doing what he is able to do."

"You saw so yourself, mudblood", Zabini insulted her," You can't deny he is more than just a man."

"I don't worship false prophets", Hermione spat at them. They could keep their fake God and their false worshipping. She found their depravity and groveling disgusting. To worship someone so much… It was unnatural and pathetic.

"How long are you guys going to keep me?" Hermione asked them both," I'm sick of waiting to die. Just do it already."

"Oh no you don't missy", Nott smiled at her and tapped the bars that held her," You have a far bigger purpose right now. We were just transporting you down here to your new home."

"Bigger purpose?" Hermione asked, dread filling her entire body. What purpose could she possibly have? What would they want with a muggleborn?

Zabini shrugged," We aren't at liberty to discuss it with you. He will be down shortly to see you."

"I'll make sure to look my best", Hermione rolled her eyes and walked over the pile of hay that was in the corner. Was this supposed to be her bed?

"We'll be back often and frequently", Nott informed her as he stood," We're in charge of watching you and making sure nothing happens to you."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"That being said", Nott continued," Be a good little lion and we may treat you to week old leftover food and we won't beat you too badly. Be a bad lion and well…"

She side eyed the two of them and saw how Zabini smiled sinisterly at Nott who was laughing.

"And well, you'll see…"

"I'll wait with bated breath", she muttered," Glad to see your nose is fixed Nott."

She saw Nott pause as the smugness fell from his face. She was sure he was remembering the pain of her breaking his nose. Without saying anything else, he continued to walk away from her, Zabini close at his side.

Hermione kept an ear out, waiting for the sound of a door shutting as confirmation that she had the cell room to herself. As soon as the door clicked shut, she immediately shot to her feet and started pulling on every bar around her. Waving her hand in front of the door told her that they had taken her magic away assuming via potion. She got on her hands and knees and scoured the floor looking for anything that could help her. A weapon, a tool, a way to get out. Anything…

But she found nothing. Nothing but the hay that was already in the corner and without magic, it couldn't be transfigured into anything. Next time Nott or Zabini were done here, she would have to try out 'Avada Kedavra' without her wand and hope that maybe that would work. If they were planning on killing her anyways, she hoped to take at least one with of them with her. Sighing deeply, she paced the short length of her cell quickly.

Bigger purpose…

Nott's words echoed through her mind. What did he mean by that? That's practically how he described himself and the other Slytherins like Zabini and Malfoy. Was she now big picture too? What could the Death Eaters and more importantly, Voldemort, possibly want with her? She would never join them. She would never fight for them. Was this just a game? Was it a tactic to get Harry to come out and try to rescue her so they could finally trap him? Was she just bait? Hermione vowed that she would do everything and anything in her power to kill herself before she left herself get used as bait.

As she continued to walk her cell over and over again, she didn't notice the red eyes that watched her quietly from the entryway to the prison cells. It wasn't until Hermione grunted in frustration and kicked the door of her cell did she notice him, jumping out of being startled.

It was him.

The monster, the Dark Lord, Death himself stood in front of her and the only thing separating them were cast iron bars that were rusting. Hermione had never been this close to Voldemort before and when she had been near him, she was never alone.

His power was palpable and all-consuming. The dark magic rolling off of him was coating her like a second skin that made her skin crawl and left goosebumps. He could kill her in a thousand different ways in a second if he wanted to and there was nothing she could do about it. Although she should be shaking in her shoes at the sight of Voldemort standing in front of her, she couldn't bring herself to be terrified.

You're going to die anyways… Might as well go out with a bang.

"Are you going to say something or just stand there menacingly?" Hermione asked, glaring at the hooded figure. He was taller now and his shoulders wider. Did that potion concoction make him stronger? Did it make him look less ill?

He said nothing at her question, just continued to stand there. Shuffling from foot to foot, she wished he would just do whatever he came down here to do instead of just standing there. Is this what she had been afraid of the whole time? What this the boogeyman she had been promise?

Hermione huffed and made to turn her back to him, unable to stand his gaze anymore when her body was quickly pulled back and pressed against the bars, hard. She felt wave after wave of dark magic pushing her into the bars causing her to turn her head to the side. He walked slowly towards her until he was standing in front of her, watching her push against the bars to get some leverage.

He raised one hand slowly and Hermione thought for a moment he would cast something, but his hand went to his hood, pulling it down slowly.

Hermione's world went sideways.

Where was Voldemort? Who was this? Who was the man standing in front of her?

The man in front of her had wavy black hair that looked impeccably quaffed. His eyes faded from red to almost black to match his hair. His skin was smooth and alabaster, not a blemish in sight. His jaw, strong and firm, tightly clenched as he watched her reaction closely. His rosy, red lips quirked to the side showing a smirk as his black eyes glittered with amusement at her confusion and shock.

All at once the magic holding her to the bars released and she fell backwards onto the ground with a hard thud. Leaning back on her hands, she scrambled away from the bars and quickly got to her feet.

"Who are you?" Hermione whispered," What are you?"

Nothing. Just black eyes that stared at her, his mouth still in that fucking smirk. Hermione could feel the rage building in her. He was fucking with her, making her uneasy, playing games with her and she was done. All of this had been a game. From the time she got here to now. She was a plaything for them, something to amuse themselves with.

"Say something!" Hermione yelled; fists balled at her sides.

He smiled showing a row of perfectly straight white teeth.

"Hermione -" His smooth, velvet voice said her name," You don't recognize me?"

That voice…

Her heart stopped.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Ice flowed through her veins and the dark edges started creeping into her sight.

"Oh my God", Hermione whispered and held her head in her hands as she looked away from him, her breath coming fast and hard. Her right hand held her forehead as her left hand went to her heart.

"Are you having another panic attack?" he asked with amusement. Like he knew…

Like he fucking knew about her other panic attacks.

"Shut up", Hermione whispered and bent down to a squatting position.

"Breath in. Breath out. Remember?" He spat at her like the words were poison.

The world was getting too dark. The edges were getting too thick.

"This can't be real", Hermione rasped. Looking through her hair she saw his black loafers come into her vision meaning he was standing right in front of her. In her cell. Magic gripped her chin and lifted it roughly to look up at the glowing red eyes that looked down at her.

"Just give in. Remember?" He hissed, venom dripping from his eyes.

The darkness was getting too dense…

The edges were closing in…

She gave in.