Into the Darkness
The last thing that Hermione remembered was studying in the library with Ron and Harry, trying to catch up with the exams they had missed last year. But now, she was laying in a darkened room with no people or noises or books in sight.
She couldn't exactly remember how she'd ended up here. There was a strange pull of magic guiding her away from her friends and into an empty classroom, then a large whack on her head which had presumably knocked her unconscious. Her head still throbbed, she realised, as she tried to sit up to look around for any signs of human life. "Harry? Ron?" She called out, her voice shaky.
There was no answer. The silence was almost painful; deadly. But it didn't last very long before there was a harsh thump of footsteps echoing somewhere nearby, sounding like they were running down stairs just outside of the dark room. The sound inched closer, step by step.
"Is this a prank or something? It really isn't funny, I have so much work to do!" Hermione yelled out again. Her questioning was only answered by the pulling of a door and a bright light seeping out from the end of a wand. The room was suddenly lit with a yellowish glow, and Hermione had to blink a few times for her eyes to adjust.
When they did adjust, however, she could clearly see that the figure who had entered the room was not Ron, nor was it Harry. The wild dark curls that fell from the figure's head and the eyes that death itself would be afraid of were unmistakable for anybody else: Bellatrix Lestrange. Flashbacks of the Cruciatus curse came to mind immediately, and Hermione slid her fingers over the scarred word on her arm which read 'Mudblood.'
Maybe this was just a dream. Hadn't the Death Eaters been sent away to Azkaban? But a quick pinch confirmed Hermione's worst fears. This was real, and Bellatrix was standing right there with her wand held out like it was already anticipating casting curses.
"Missed me?" Bellatrix smiled, the sides of her mouth twisting upwards awfully and her head tilting to the side. She walked closer, and Hermione backed as far into the wall as possible. She tried not to look fearful, but it must've been obvious. "Oh, don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you."
Not going to hurt me? Well she certainly didn't seem like she broke out of Azkaban and came here just to have a civil conversation and apologise for everything. Unless it was just somebody using a Polyjuice potion, but that same putrid smell of dark magic lingered in the air as she edged closer. Hermione found herself unable to speak.
"I guess you're well aware that your little friend Harry Potter has killed Voldemort?" Bellatrix asked, bending down until she was level with Hermione. "He's going to pay. I thought for a while, and I know that his disgustingly insecure soul would much rather sacrifice himself to death than one of his best friends. That's why I got you - it'll hurt so much more. He deserves to suffer."
"You- you said you weren't going to hurt me!" Hermione cried out, trying to refrain from letting her brave act slip, but it wasn't working.
Bellatrix put her hand that wasn't holding her wand onto the side of Hermione's cheek, stroking it gently like a mother trying to comfort her daughter. Except she was nothing like her mother, and would never be, and the touch lingered horribly like a ghost even after she took her hand away. "Oh, I'm not going to be the one to hurt you. Draco, dear, come in!"
Then Draco Malfoy walked through the door. The platinum blonde of his hair was the only familiar thing about him; his silvery eyes had turned dark and tired, his face was worn with the memories of war and suffering. But it was still him, and he came over with his wand dangling in his hand. She should've known that Draco would never change. He was just like his father, and he was going to hurt her after years of prejudice and hatred.
"Go on. Just like we've planned, Draco. End her life for good."
He brought his wand up and pointed it towards Hermione. His hands were visibly shaking, but his head was held high as if remaining in his prideful, haughty role that he had been playing for years on end. Word spread that Draco had never been able to kill Dumbledore when given the mission, but Severus was not here to save him now. As much as Hermione didn't want to believe it, she knew exactly how this would end.
"Kill her! Kill her!" Bellatrix chanted, laughing manically. Draco didn't look as enthusiastic; tears were threatening to run down his cheeks no matter how much he tried to be proud. He couldn't even look Hermione in the eye, his eyesight was just above her head. But the wand remained in place.
Hermione closed her eyes and began screaming, begging for somebody to hear. Maybe if she couldn't see what was happening, this would be easier. But it wasn't. Her throat began to hurt with the force of her screams, and she stopped to bury her head in her knees, crying and still holding onto whatever pieces of hope she had left. I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't want to fail you. You need me, and I need you, especially right now. This can't be the end.
Yet when the words 'Avada Kedavra' were spoken, Hermione was still very much alive. She was worried for a second that she had already died and had come back as a ghost, but when she looked up, Draco was standing with his wand pointed right at the body of Bellatrix Lestrange.
"Get out of here, for fuck sake! Her necklace is a portkey, grab it!" Draco yelled, now sobbing harshly. His words could barely be understood as a coherent sentence, but Hermione did understand and she took the necklace without a second thought, as quickly as possible in case Bellatrix was still somehow alive. What the hell happened? Why was she suddenly trusting Draco with her life?
Within an instant, she was transported back to somewhere in Hogwarts. It took a few seconds to figure out, but the room she was taken to was the Room of Requirement. It had been fixed up after the Fiendfyre incident, but the memory still made it a horrifying place to be in, especially alone. Better to be alone than tortured by Lestrange, she supposed.
Hermione exited the room after a while. Her face was swollen from crying, and she tried her best to fix herself up but she still had to run to the prefect's bathroom to splash her face with some water and clean off completely. As fast as possible, so as not to bump into anyone - she didn't think she could handle seeing anybody at all right now.
She didn't notice at first, but she had been wiping inadvertently at the area on her cheek where Bellatrix had touched.
Of all people, it was Pansy Parkinson who noticed her, and to Hermione's surprise, started to chase after her. "Wait!" Pansy shouted, following Hermione into the bathroom once she reached it.
"What?! You aren't supposed to be in here!" Hermione shrieked. Her voice was still a little shaky, apparently not wanting to return to normal just yet.
"Draco. He told me what was supposed to happen today. Bellatrix tried to get him to kill you, didn't she?" Pansy asked, sounding a lot kinder than usual. Hermione nodded reluctantly. "Okay, listen. I know we've never gotten along, but I certainly don't want to see you dead. I don't care for all that blood supremacy stuff anymore. Just meet me at the Slytherin dorms tomorrow at breakfast, alright?"
"I don't-" Hermione began, but Pansy walked out of the bathroom before she could finish. What the hell just happened?
Hermione went to her dorm, and knew she should be studying. But no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't focus and every word on the page began to blur. She pulled her duvet over her chest, telling herself she would just have a little rest until everything made more sense and her brain was intact. But the next time she opened her eyes, it was already 4 in the morning.
Just a few hours, and it would be breakfast. But she was still tired and attempted to force herself back asleep, however this time it wasn't as simple. Her mind was one giant puzzle, with each thing that happened today a unique puzzle piece, and no matter how she arranged them, they did not want to stick together.
Draco Malfoy saved me. Pansy Parkinson wants to help me. Bellatrix Lestrange came back to avenge Voldemort, but was murdered by her own nephew.
She didn't know whether she was supposed to trust Pansy. But she trusted Draco of all people and it had turned out alright, so it couldn't be too bad.
When she managed to fall back asleep that night, she did not dream about the war and everything that she had lost, but instead of the pretty blonde Slytherin boy who had risked his own life. Had killed someone just to save her, despite hating her for as long as she could remember.