Chapter One
Her hands were raw from rubbing against the rope binding them, the rope she was trying to frey. She desperately moved the binding against a jagged rock, preying that they split. Her breathing had become panicked, she didn’t know where she was, blindfolded and bound she was at everyone's mercy. Maybe if she… she brought her knees up to her face, trying to push away the cloth held there. It gave way after a few attempts.
The landscape was dark and unfamiliar, cavernous walls arched above her, and the only source of light were the two balls of light chained to the wall, near the end of the tunnel. She looked for the doors that she had been pushed through, but nothing, only solid rough stone. And, she paused, recoiling, was that a dead body? She gagged feeling squeamish. Maybe they had something she could use to untie herself? Hope filled her at the prospect and she moved toward them in a half-crawl-half-fail.
It took a painfully long time. She was sure she was covered in an obscene amount of grime. Eventually, she knelt over the body, searching for anything, a knife. A small part of her was filled with a glimmering speck of hope. She shifted forwards attempting to run her bound hands over their deflated cloak. She lost her balance, toppling forwards. She landed on the man with an oomph. He let out a groan. She froze with fear. He was alive. She assessed him with thorough eyes. He was barely alive. The faint smell of blood surrounded him and his chest rose in small desperate breaths. A black mask not too different from what the Death Eaters wore covered his face.
“Hey,” Hermione said, nudging him. “If you unbind me I can use your wand to heal you,” she moved her hands so he could see them. “Please,”
“Turn…” he managed to croak out. Holding out a bloody knife.
“You shouldn’t speak, save your breath,” she turned around holding out her hands, she felt a leather-clad finger run along where the rope met her skin, pulling it away he sliced. Hermione felt the rope give and with her free hands, she untied the ropes at her ankles standing up to asses the injured man in front of her. “Where is your wand?” she asked as she rummaged through his robes. He didn’t respond. That didn’t matter because she found his wand, holstered in a harness.
She cast a quick diagnostic spell, he had some outer wounds but they were minor, what was killing him was a type of poison wreaking havoc on his system. She needed to expel the poison from his body, she could worry about his outer lesions later. Waving that wand, praying that it would work for her she muttered a quick, “Reparifors” She watched as the poison left his system, she forced his mouth and nose open using them to expel the poison from his body, using his wand she directed it towards the craggy wall. Without healing potions and other healing supplies, Hermione was desperate, casting any healing spells she knew of. “Vulnera Sanentur,” she whispered, hoping it would heal some of his cuts. Harry had told her about that spell after he had used the Sectumsempra curse on Malfoy. She cast another spell to heal broken bones and in a hope to revive him she cast a stamina charm. His breath returned with strength and he let out a bleary groan. His eyes fluttered open and she found herself entranced by them. The strangely pale irises were familiar in a comforting way, the desolate landscape around her was so foreign to her that any type of familiarity was soothing. His eyes widened as he registered who it was that had saved him.
“Granger..?” he asked as he pushed himself up, into a squat. He reached forward, his hand as open as his eyes were in wonder.
Hermione pushed herself back, “how-how do you know who I am?” she demanded, raising his wand up in a feeble attempt to defend herself.
“As if I could forget you,” his voice was soft, deceptively so, something in Hermione knew that she should run, that that voice was hard and brittle and cruel. She stood up, he mirrored her movements. He held his hands low, away from his body. His hood slipped back, and a smooth lock of platinum hair brushed the forehead of his mask.
“Malfoy,” she let out a shrill whisper then she turned and bolted. Her legs burned as she conquered the rough floor of the cave. She heard an exasperated sigh from Malfoy.
“Now let's not do that,” he raised his voice, “I have a second wand Granger, either stop of your own accord or I will stop you,”
Did he mean the killing curse? That made her stop. “Don’t kill me,” she begged, her voice only a whisper.
He paused, “I would never hurt you,” he told her. he kept his hands where they were, showing her that he wouldn't lay a hand on her. "can I take my mask off?"
she nodded. He reached up to his face, pulling the opaque black shell off his face. even though she knew it was him seeing his face still sent a shock through her. his sharp nose and chilled jaw, his icy expression. and his hair, slightly longer than it was in school, still slicked back, the strand that gave him away grazed the bridge of his nose.
"Hi?" she said softly. "what are you doing here?" she sniffed, tears welling up in her eyes, the emotion of her past few… she paused, days? had it really been days since she was snatched away from Harry and Ron? She let out a gasp. then a sob.
Malfoy watched her eerily, "do you want me to stay over here?" he asked. She nodded, folding in on herself, her tears coming out in large sobs. Each cry was filled with pain and sadness. He had to look away, her wails made him flinch. “Hermione.” he began.
“Leave me alone…” she cried into her palms.
“I would if I could, but it’s dangerous here, come with me somewhere safe, please,” she didn’t protest as he lightly gilded her still sobbing through the maze of caves.
“Why are you helping me?” she sobbed. She could see Malfoy through her bleary tear-filled eyes. He let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Granger,” he said grabbing her shoulders, “I am a Malfoy, we do not owe anyone anything, and yet you saved my life, I now have a life debt,” he waved his hand gesturing to their proximity to each other, “I am eliminating that debt as soon a possible,” he looked straight into Hermione eyes, “now I am taking you somewhere safe, i need you to pull it together until we get there, and,” he let out a deep breath, “you can cry as much as you want when we arrive, understand?” she nodded slowly sniffling. “Good,” Malfoy grabbed her hand and quickly pulled her along after him. He began running, she tried to follow him, holding back her cries of pain that originated in her leg. She let a small whimper escape. She clapped a hand over her mouth embarrassed. She looked away when Malfoy turned to her.
“Is everything alright?” She nodded. He reached forward gripping her chin. “Don’t lie,”
“My leg might be broken,” she whispered.
He raked a hand through his hair disheveling it. Hermione looked at the walls, they were smeared with dirt and blood. There were large gouge marks in the ceiling, she wondered what monster lived in here. She could see broken tarnished pieces of death eater masks, and a deformed skull caught her eyes. Was it a Werewolf?
“What type of creatures live down here?” she muttered, drifting away from Malfoy, deep in thought. A large corps a few metres away pulled her to it. From where she stood it appeared to be a large cat its tail strangely deformed. “Is that a Manticore?” she said bewitched, “I’ve never seen one before, I wonder what killed it, surely not the Death Eaters?”
Now beside her Malfoy sat at the Manticore with her, “Remember Granger, if something this dangerous was killed that easily something much worse lives down here,”
She looked up at him, he was, much taller than she remembered. “We should go,” she affirmed with a nod.
“Up you go,” Malfoy said with a grunt lifting her up into his arms bridal style. “Before you protest we don’t know how hurt you are this is best,”
Hermione felt him adjust her weight so that he was carrying her with one arm. He pulled out a second wand with his other hand, “Acio Broom,” he handed her his second wand, “Hold this,” he used his other hand to catch the broomstick that was currently flying though the air at a frightening speed towards Hermione–it was like a scene from her nightmares because she did have nightmares about broomsticks and flying, it had been her worst subject at Hogwarts.
“Oh no, no, no, I don’t care what's happening I am not getting on that broomstick!”
Malfoy chuckled, “You don’t have much of a choice, and don’t worry it’ll be quick,” Hermione simply groaned as Malfoy stepped onto the broom.
“This is the worst day ever,” she muttered, her face pressed into his robes. “I hate flying,” and with that Malfoy took off, launching Hermione's stomach into the air.
~~~
Draco Malfoy clung to the witch in front of him, a new fire sparking in his chest. Hermione was in shock, he could tell from her babbling about the manticore, her mood swings, and the fact that it probably was the worst day of her life.
“Almost there,” he said, flying to one of the entry points of the Labyrinth.
The caves had been in the Malfoy family for the length of their lineage. Along with the caves came the ancient House Of Malfoy–which the Labyrinth was built to protect–and the urge to guard the Labyrinth and what it protects was built into all Malfoy heirs. When the Dark Lord had discovered the tunnels he triggered whatever it was in Draco that made him feel the intense need to protect his ancient home. Lucius had offered him on a platter to the Dark Lord the moment his other abilities became known. Lucius had promised the Dark Lord a weapon that could win him the war, something that could easily be controlled. Draco had rebelled against the idea, he had only become a Death Eater because Lucius forced him. The only person who had ever truly cared for him, one of the only people Draco had ever cared for; his mother was distraught to learn what her son was planning to agree to, and she begged him not to.
“It will be the end of you and that would destroy me!” she had told him.
Draco had been the bravest he had ever been when he went to the Dark Lord and told him; “No, I will not serve you as your personal maker of destruction, I will do what is in my blood and guard the Labyrinth, any creature that enters it with malice in their heart shall fall victim to my talons,” he had been tortured after he said that. His skin had blistered and burned, it had felt like he was being torn limb from limb, but his resolve had broken, nothing like the woman in his arms. And so he made a deal with the devil that was Lord Voldemort, the Dark Lord could send his enemies into the Labyrinth and Draco would make sure they died, in exchange he would not be used as a weapon of mass destruction, and his mother could live with him. They arrived at the entrance point to Malfoy Castle.
“Woah, these are some strong wards,” Hermione observed. “Stronger than Hogwarts even,”
“They guard the Most Ancient and Noble of Houses,”
Hermione looked up at him confused, “You’re not of House Black? Aren’t they the most Noble and Acenit house?”
Draco gritted his teeth together, “They lie, the Malfoy are the true holders of the title, and I am of House Black,”
Hermione giggled. Oh Merlin, she was hysterical, they were past the point of her simply being shocked, “What are you talking about silly, you’re a Malfoy,”
“My mother is Narcissa Black,” he carried her through the door that only opened for him, into a large open courtyard, the sun streamed down onto the smooth stones, and a small waterfall fell into a small fountain in the center of the courtyard.
“Does that mean you're related to Harry?”
He gave her a strange look, “No, the Blacks and the Potters are not related,” he was eager for Hermione to return to her normal self, seeing her like this disheartened him. He remembered the spitfire she used to be.
“But Harry inherited when Sirius died?”
That caused him to pause, “Harry Potter inherited the Black's fortune?” Hermione nodded sagely. “That was supposed to be mine!”
“Oh dear, poor you,’ she reached out and patted the top of his head. He took the moment to finally look at her. She was wearing muggle clothes, a jumper and some sort of stiff pants and she was filthy. Blood and dirt covered her body.
“Flopsy!” he called out, one of the castle's house elves appearing.
“Yes, Master Draco?” she squeaked.
“Would you please run a bath for Miss Granger? In the same room that Mopsy will prepare” the little elf nodded vigorously her large ears flopping up and down.
“Topsy!” he called as Folpsy disappeared.
“Yes, Master Draco,”
“If you could find some clothes for Miss Granger Please, if you can't find anything better then my or my mother's clothes would work,” the elf squeaked excitedly before she popped away.
“Mopsy,” An even smaller elf, with even larger ears appeared. “Please prepare a room for Miss Granger,”
“Does the one beside Master Draco’s room work?” he nodded. The elf nodded and hurried off. He looked down at Hermione to see her giddy.
“Why did you send them away? They were so cute, I love them,”
“Okay,” he pressed his lips together, “let's get you cleaned up,” he took her through the halls of the castle, and she peered at everything. “Sit down Granger, i can show you everything when you’re feeling better,”
“I feel fine,”
“You’re in shock, you’re not fine, you might have a broken leg, please relax,”
He found the castle to be more tasteful than the manor. He loved his mother very much, however when she was decorating the manor she leaned too far into his father's vision and the Malfoy colours. The Manor had too many dark greens and blacks, the castle was lighter with more pale colours like mint green and Ivy patterned wallpaper that lined the hallway they currently walked in.
Draco deposited Hermione in the room, “This is where you’ll be staying, there is a bathroom with a nice warm bath in it, and some clean clothes for you, let me know if you need anything, I’ll be next door,” She didn’t say anything. She was finally registering what had happened. “I’ll have Flopsy bring you some food,”