Vacivitas

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

Hermione's barely managed to keep her thoughts organized by the time he comes back. It's been two days and she hasn't got an ounce of sleep. So when the doors to the Library push open, she feels terrified. She doesn't know if she's ready to go through it again. Not yet. She needs more time. In walks Malfoy, still wearing the clothes he'd worn when he was here last. He pushes his messy hair back with his fingers, which she sees are stained with blood. It's the cold, shuttered expression on his face that tells her this is serious.

Hermione forgets all about her nerves. Her book snaps shut.

"What's wrong?"

He sinks into the chair opposite hers, laying his head back and closing his eyes. "I'm going to have to go to Greece for a while."

"Greece? Why?"

"Business."

"For the Dark Lord?"

"Obviously."

"Well...Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"That's what you said when you'd been crucioed the same day," she says, words accusatory.

"I'm fine, Granger." He sits up. He looks exhausted. "I'll be gone for at least three weeks."

"Three weeks?!" she shrieks, nearly leaping out of her chair. The thought of being alone for that long makes her feel sick. "Why so long?"

"Why? Will you miss me?"

She commits a mortal sin and throws her book at him. "I can't stand being in this house alone for this long. You haven't kept your promise. Where are my friends?"

"It's not a simply process, Granger."

"Why not?!"

"Are you seriously angrily asking me why it's not easier for me to buy human beings?"

"I..." She trails off, and a new type of shame fills her. One that shows her that there's parts of her that have changed with desperation, and they aren't positive changes. "I just miss my friends."

"I know." He sighs and puts his fingers through his hair again. "I will keep my promise. There's been...Diversions. That's all."

"What diversions?" He doesn't reply. "What diversions, Malfoy?"

"The Dark Lord has set his sights on Greece next."

"And...?" She rolls her hand in the air, parched for knowledge. "Continue."

"The Hellenic League of Magic has decided to try their hand at saving the United Kingdom. They sent a small army. They failed. So now we must go to Greece."

Hermione stares at him, thinking back to the times he returned smelling like blood and smoke. Remembers what he does for the Dark Lord. She thinks she knows what he's been doing, and what he's going to do in Greece.

"Is that why Carrow—whichever one it was—came through the Floo?"

"Amycus Carrow, and yes. There was an attack that night on Scottish soil. I was called to assist."

"And you killed them all, I suppose."

"Granger, it's not like I'm the only one casting curses. I assisted. That means there were others fighting, too. Blood on both sides. Unfortunately for them, I'm a little faster than the average wizard. We lost less blood than they did."

"That doesn't make it right."

His facial expression shifts in stages, settling upon one that mixes indignance with offense. "Who are you to tell me what's right? You've been on the run and in a pit while the rest of us have had to do what we could to survive."