Ethereal extensions
Hermione (present)
Hermione, Arys, and Mippy, their bodies bound tightly with heavy chains against the cold, unforgiving wall, watched in horror, their eyes wide with fear. They were unable to move, unable to do anything but witness the gruesome spectacle unfolding before them. Hermione’s heart pounded in her chest, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. A cold sweat clung to her skin, and her body trembled uncontrollably. The chains bit into her flesh, a cold reminder of her helplessness.
She felt a deep sense of despair as she watched a dozen death eaters taking turns beating Draco to a bloody pulp, casting Crucio spells left and right. Every crunch of a bone, every spatter of blonde sent shockwaves through her. Her throat was raw from screaming and her eyes burned as she watched Draco’s body contort in pain.
Voldemort only watched, his eyes shining with gleam and anticipation, his wand hanging loosely in his relaxed hand. Her gaze fell upon his hand. There, adorning his finger, was a magnificent emerald ring she hadn't seen before. It was large and ornate, the gem a deep, mesmerizing green that seemed to pulse with an eerie light. Tendrils of dark energy, like wisps of smoke, curled and writhed around the ring, as if the malevolent power it held was struggling to contain itself.
Hermione's heart skipped a beat everytime Draco’s silver eyes met her. Despite the chaos and the thick pool of blood that surrounded him, he remained conscious, his eyes filled with a resolve that surprised her. His face, though pale and drawn, held a look of unwavering determination. A desperate hope flickered within her, clinging to the possibility that Draco, with his cunning and resourcefulness, had some hidden strategy, some ace up his sleeve to escape this dire situation.
Her own situation, however, felt bleak. The wards, shimmering like an invisible cage around the ballroom, mocked her. How were they going to get out of this? The question echoed in her mind, unanswered and daunting.
To her right, Arys sat quietly in the mask. His eyes fluttered open intermittently, revealing a vacant stare. His head lolled forward and back, as if engaged in a silent, involuntary struggle against the encroaching darkness of unconsciousness.
Voldemort, his face contorted in a cruel sneer, abruptly raised his hand, his long, skeletal fingers. The gesture was sharp, commanding, and instantaneous, like the crack of a whip echoing through the chaotic scene. The Death Eaters, their wands raised, immediately obeyed, their movements halting mid-stride. A sudden, eerie silence descended upon the ballroom, broken only by ragged breaths and the soft crackle of the wards.
Draco propped himself up weakly and defiantly spat blood in Voldemort's direction.
"I had heard the whispers that you had killed your only brother," Voldemort's voice slithered through the room, "but I know you. I know the cleverness and survival instincts that flow through you." He tilted his head, his red eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. "Why would you kill your only contingency plan, especially when the life bond between you and your brother had already proven to be effective, saving your life when it was mine to take…?"
Hermione's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Life bond? What was he talking about? A shiver of dread ran down her spine.
"But... I won’t be making that same mistake twice," Voldemort hissed, a sinister sneer twisting his lips. "Bring me the boy!!" he barked, his voice echoing through the hall. He strode towards the dais, his black robes billowing behind him, and took his seat, a malevolent king surveying his domain.
Rodolphus Lestrange, his face a mask of cold cruelty, approached Arys, his wand raised threateningly.
"Don't you dare touch him!" Hermione hissed, her voice raw with desperation. She strained against her chains, her muscles burning with futile effort.
Rodolphus merely sneered at her, his wand flicking as he unlocked Arys's chains. He grabbed Arys's limp body, hauling him to his feet and dragging him unceremoniously across the ballroom towards the dais. The circle of Death Eaters surrounding Draco parted, their attention shifting to the unfolding drama.
Draco's eyes were fixed on Hermione as she struggled and screamed, his face a mask of horror and helplessness. He began to crawl towards her, his movements agonizingly slow and labored.
"PLEASE, PLEASE!!! He is already hurt! Leave him be!" Hermione's voice was a desperate wail, echoing through the hall as Arys's body was thrown at Voldemort's feet. She felt the skin begin to heat beneath her restraints.
Beside her, Mippy whimpered and cried, his small body shaking with fear. Draco, his face contorted in pain, continued his agonizing crawl towards her, still determined despite his broken body.
Voldemort, his face a mask of cold indifference, raised his wand, the ebony wood gleaming in the dim light. The gesture was casual, almost nonchalant, yet it carried an air of finality that sent a chill through the room.
In that moment, Arys's eyes met Hermione's. They were a vivid blue, filled with an ocean of sorrow and unspoken words. His gaze lingered, a silent farewell that pierced her heart like a thousand knives.
Her face contorted in agony. "NO! NO! NO!" she screamed, her voice raw. The heat she was feeling beneath her skin was unbearable now, spreading through her entire body and searing her like a thousand white-hot needles. Tears streamed down her face, mingling with the sweat that poured from every pore. Her vision blurred, and she felt herself slipping away. The metal of the chains began to melt into her skin, but she hardly felt the pain.
Voldemort's voice, cold and triumphant, echoed through the room, cutting through the tension like a knife. "AVADA KEDAVRA!"
A blinding flash of emerald light erupted from his wand, streaking towards Arys with terrifying speed. The spell struck him with a sickening thud, and his body jerked violently before falling limp. His iron mask hit the floor with a loud boom. Every muscle in his body went slack.
Hermione's scream tore through the silence, a primal sound of utter devastation. "NOOOOO!!!!" She scanned his body for any sign of life, but there was nothing. His eyes stared blankly at the ceiling through the steel mask. He was gone.
Draco finally reached her, his face pale and etched with horror. He murmured words of comfort, but she couldn't hear them over the deafening roar in her ears. The world seemed to have narrowed down to the agonizing thud of her own heartbeat, the blood pounding in her veins like a drum. Everything else faded into a numb, distant silence.
With a newfound grace, she rose to her full height, her skin radiating a celestial golden light. At her feet, the once-binding chains lay in a molten, metallic pool.
Her gaze locked onto Voldemort, unwavering and resolute. She moved towards him with a measured pace, leaving Draco and Mippy in her wake. Their voices, filled with a mix of awe and terror, faded behind her as she focused solely on the monster before her. Voldemort's laughter, once booming and confident, now held a note of unease. The laughter of his followers dwindled as they watched her approach, flames dancing at her fingertips like ethereal extensions of her soul.
Voldemort's face contorted into a mask of fear. He barked orders at his Death Eaters, his voice cracking with desperation. A barrage of spells flew towards Hermione, but she deflected each one with a flick of her wrist, her eyes never leaving Voldemort's. The flames emanating from her intensified, shifting from their gentle golden hue to a hellish crimson that mirrored the fury in her heart.
With a roar that echoed through the ballroom, she raised her burning hand towards the Death Eaters. The inferno within her surged as Fiendfrye exploded from her hand, consuming everyone in its path.
She distantly heard screams as death eaters were burnt to ash, but her eyes never left Voldemort’s. The flames now poured from her hands, her mouth, her ears and eyes. She was completely enveloped by crimson flames. Her screams, raw and ragged, tore through the air, a guttural battle cry that echoed into the vast room. She hurled all of her anguish and rage, towards the death eaters, while internally cursing at the uncaring cosmos, at the unseen forces that had ripped away everything she held dear. She saved Voldemort for last.
Her eyes blazed with an otherworldly power as she extended her hand, not physically touching him, but enveloping him in an invisible grip of pure magic. He struggled, his face contorted in fear and disbelief, but her hold was unyielding. She focused her power on his wand. It began to smolder, then crackle, and finally burst into flames, crumbling into a pile of fine ash that drifted away, leaving him utterly defenseless.
She observed, transfixed, as the emerald ring began to warp and contort on his finger. A blinding flash of white light erupted, momentarily obscuring her vision, and a piercing inhuman screech echoed through the air, like a thousand fingernails scraping against a chalkboard. When the light subsided, the ring was gone, replaced by a smoking indentation on his finger. Voldemort stared at his hand in horror as the rest of his skin slowly began to melt away. With a final, resounding crack, the protective wards encasing the room shattered, sending a shimmering wave of energy rippling outward. The surviving Death Eaters, their faces etched with a mixture of terror and desperation, seized the opportunity and bolted towards the doors. Their dark robes whipped and snapped behind them like wings as they desperately climbed over the wreckage of fallen bodies and shattered furniture that littered their path. They leaped and ducked, dodging the hungry flames that now danced and roared in every corner of the room, licking at the ceiling with insatiable hunger. The air crackled with heat and the scent of smoke, adding to the chaos and terror.
Hermione felt no joy, no retribution as her flames slowly melted away Voldemort’s skin. He let out a soul piercing scream, a sound that reverberated through the room, full of agony and disbelief. Then, with a sickening crackle, his body began to disintegrate. It wasn't a gradual fading; it was a violent explosion of shimmering black dust, as if his very being was being torn apart from the inside out. The dust swirled and danced in the air for a moment, catching the moonlight, before settling softly onto the floor, leaving nothing but an eerie silence in its wake.
As she turned her back on the chaos, the inferno within her began to subside, the flames flickering and dying until only the soft golden glow of her skin remained. Draco and Mippy, their eyes wide with a mixture of terror and awe, watched her, rooted to the spot. The sheer power they had just witnessed left them paralyzed.
Without a glance in their direction, Hermione extended her hand, severing Mippy's chains with a silent spell. Then, with a gentle levitation charm, she lifted both Draco and Mippy off the ground, carrying them behind her as she silently left the burning ballroom.
With every step away from the manor, she felt her strength waning, the magic that had coursed through her veins now a mere trickle. Finally, unable to sustain the spell any longer, she gently lowered Draco and Mippy to the frost kissed grass.
Turning away, she stumbled into the darkness, heading towards the distant cottage. But the exhaustion was overwhelming, and she hadn't gone far before her legs gave way, sending her collapsing onto the cold earth.
Draco approached cautiously, barely able to walk, and sat beside her. Mippy followed, his large eyes filled with concern. Hermione sensed their presence, their hushed voices washing over her, but the words themselves remained out of reach.
She watched, detached, as Mippy's magic flowed into Draco, knitting together his broken bones and soothing his wounds. But she felt nothing. No fear, no pain, no joy. Only a vast, empty numbness. The world had lost its color, its vibrancy. All that remained was the crushing weight of guilt. This was her doing. She had led Arys into danger, and he had paid the ultimate price.
A sudden surge of yelling pierced through the haze of her despair, yanking her back to the harsh reality of the present. Draco was on his feet, his face pale, the cuff still shackled to his wrist.
"Mippy! Run! Get help!" Draco's voice was raw with terror, a sound that chilled her to the bone. With a sharp crack, Mippy vanished, leaving Draco alone to face the unseen threat.
Hermione tried to rise, but a blast of unseen force slammed into her, sending her tumbling across the grass. As she struggled to regain her bearings, she saw Bellatrix standing near Draco, her wand pointed menacingly at his chest, her clothes and skin marred with burns. Draco's hands were raised in a gesture of surrender, his expression a mask of fear as his eyes darted between Bellatrix and Hermione.
“Please, do anything you want to me, but don’t hurt her.” Draco begged.
Desperation clawed at Hermione. She quickly stood. She tried to summon her magic, to conjure a shield, a spell, anything to protect Draco. But her magic, once so powerful, was now a barren wasteland. Nothing answered her call.
"I am going to enjoy this, dear Nephew," Bellatrix rasped, her voice weak but her eyes blazing with a cruel delight. "AVADA KEDAVRA!"
Hermione watched in horror as the jet of green light struck Draco squarely in the chest. But, to her shock, it seemed to pass harmlessly through him, leaving him standing, seemingly unscathed. Bellatrix's face twisted in disbelief and fury. A guttural scream erupted from her throat, and she unleashed a relentless barrage of Killing Curses. But each one met the same fate, washing over Draco without effect. Hermione's jaw hung open in astonishment. Draco appeared to be absorbing the lethal spells, defying all laws of magic. How was this possible?
A rustling sound from her left drew Hermione's attention. Ruby burst from the darkness, racing towards her through the tall grass. Another shriek tore her gaze back to the unfolding scene. Bellatrix, panting heavily from her futile attacks, glared at Draco with murderous intent. Then, slowly, she turned to face Hermione, her wand raised. Draco's terrified scream echoed through the night just as Bellatrix unleashed a sinister purple spell in Hermione's direction. It hurtled towards her with terrifying speed, leaving no time to react.
Suddenly, a blur of red fur materialized in front of her. In a whirlwind of magic, Ruby transformed into a figure Hermione thought she'd never see again. Electric blue eyes, framed by dark hair that fell over his forehead, stared into hers. For a fleeting moment, she wondered if she had died, if this was the afterlife, a blessing indeed.
Arys’s eyes shimmered with profound love and adoration as he beheld her. He offered her a bittersweet smile just as the purple spell slammed into his back. Time seemed to freeze as she watched him crumple to the ground, revealing Lucius standing over Bellatrix, his wand glowing with the telltale green afterglow of the Killing Curse.
She lunged for Arys, cradling his limp body as he slowly sank to his knees and fell to his back. He gazed up at her, tears welling in his eyes, and reached for her face. "Hello, my dear friend," he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Her breath hitched in her throat as the color drained from Arys's face, his vibrant blue eyes dimming.
"ARYS! NO!!!!" Draco's anguished cry pierced the air. He scrambled towards them, collapsing beside his brother. "Arys, no," he repeated, his voice trembling as he ran his hands over Arys's chest and brushed the hair from his forehead.
Hermione's mind reeled, unable to comprehend the scene unfolding before her. She stared helplessly as Draco's shoulders shook with sobs, his face contorted in agony.
"Arys, did you know this would happen?!" Draco cried, clutching his brother tightly. "YOU LIED TO ME! HOW COULD YOU!" His voice broke with each word. "PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME!"
"I'm so sorry, Draco," Arys managed to wheeze. "It was the only way."
Lucius stood frozen in the background, his expression a mask of grief as he watched his son’s life ebb away.
Arys reached for Hermione's hand, his touch tentative as Draco held him close.
"Hermione," he said, his voice a mere breath. "Let me show you."
Their hands met, and a familiar warmth flooded her senses. It was the same sensation she'd experienced whenever Arys had shared his premonitions with her. She felt his plea, his desperation to make her understand. The world around her dissolved, and the first vision began to unfold in her mind.