From the Ashes

04 - One Step Too Far

"Just cause he's a bit thick doesn't mean he would leak intel. I know you two have your issues, heaven's knows you have your reasons but Ron loves his job and wouldn't jeopardize it for a little fame."

Hermione gave Ginny a pointed look, "Wouldn't he?"

Their eyes met a Ginny, unable to answer shrugged.

"Do you want lunch?" she asked. "Harry's out at the moment though I'd expect that he'll be returning at any moment.

"I'd love some..." Hermione drifted off as she gazed down at the Prophet. Reading a phrase at the bottom. The Malfoy estate was seized by the Ministry of Magic shortly after the war ended. It has fallen from its state of glory to nothing short of a relic of archaic ideas and unpleasant memories...

"Hang on." Hermione reread the statement.

"What is it?" Ginny who had turned to the kitchen to make sandwiches, made her way back over.

"I've just had a thought. Listen, let Harry know I stopped by and I'll see you for dinner later."

CRACK.

Hermione reappeared in front of the frighteningly familiar wrought iron gates of Malfoy Manor. She gazed around taking in the overgrown hedges, foot high grass, and moss-covered rooftop. Like the paper had stated, the Manor was no longer occupied. Hermione hesitantly pushed the gate open. It obliged with a small squeal. As she entered the grounds a small shiver fled down her spine. She could clearly remember her last visit to this place. It was extremely unpleasant. As if reflex her fingers caressed her arm, feeling the raised scar tissue where Bellatrix Lestrange had carved the word, Mudblood.

Hermione gripped her wand tighter, glancing around as she made her way up the path. If she squinted she could make out the shape of curtains in the second story windows of the house, but as far as she could tell nothing was moving behind the dusty glace. She reached the front door and began to extend her hand to turn the door handle, she thought better of it, thinking of the traps that had littered the entry to Grimmauld Place. Instead, she stepped off the path and walked around the side of the Manor. Being considerable in size it took her longer than anticipated. A small door was placed at the back of the building. She had suspected as much. Most homes of this size and stature had servant entrances, even those run by elves.

She approached the door and slowly turned the handle. Locked. She had been expecting this.

"Alohamora," she whispered. There was a soft click and on the second try, the door swung open.

She was standing in a pantry, though it was long forgotten and what she supposed used to be vegetables were now no more than compost on shelves. She pushed passed this room and entered the next, "Lumos," it was extremely dark inside the house as the curtains and dust blocked the daylight from penetrating the vast space.

Hermione made her way through the room, a long walnut table with clawed feet was situated at the center of the room, and at the far end loomed a large fireplace where a framed oil painting of the Malfoy's gazed down at her. For a second she froze, wondering if this portrait would be anything like the one of Sirius' mother. It appeared, after a few moments, that it was not. The figures stayed silent, though all three watched her intently. She gave the image one more nervous glance before she sped passed the table toward the waiting door. As she did she spotted something peculiar. She paused, letting her fingertip graze the table top. She brought it to her finger and inspected it. No Dust.

Her heart began to pound. It had been foolish to enter the Manor alone. Think Hermione. It could just be a spell. But no. When she went to the mantle to inspect it, a thick layer of dust and cobwebs greeted her. Someone had been inside this house recently.

Panicking slightly she weighed her choices, she could leave and report the activity to the Auror office or she could dig around a bit and hope to find more detail. She wouldn't be able to give the Aurors much if she left now. But then again... they could come back with a team.

"Graeve's? Is that you?" A voice echoed from down the hall. Hermione froze. It was getting nearer and if she didn't move she would be found out. Glancing around the room she noticed the second door. She scurried, as quietly as possible, toward it and muttering "Muffliato," turned the handle and slid inside the room.

At first, she found it incredibly hard to see as her eyes had a hard time reacting to the blinding daylight entering the large room. The curtains were tied back and as Hermione desperately attempted to find somewhere to hid she felt creeping dread. She'd been here before. This was the room where it had all happened.

The torture, Dobby's rescue, and accompanied death. She felt a pang for the elf and mingling with it a sense of terror.

The chandelier had been repaired, it hung at the center of the room, glittering in the light. The room had most definitely been cleaned recently.

She glanced around. How could she have been so stupid? She knew better than to step into a possibly dangerous situation without assistance. If she sent out a Patronus to Harry she might be found, at this point, it would be better to hide and leave as soon as possible. She could go downstairs, she knew what was there. If the Malfoy's were being held against their will in this house they would be down there. Graeve's was not a name she remembered from the old days, and she wondered who had spoken, at this point it was probably better not to guess at the owner's name, as they were no-doubt close behind her.

Hermione headed for the stairs leading to the basement. If it was empty she would at least be able to surprise the unknown occupant. Stun them and leave out the back exit. If the Malfoy's were there she could free them. Don't be insane. You're not an Auror. She reminded herself, but she had done similar things during the war, this was not out of her wheelhouse.

As she ducked down the steps she heard the door at the far end of the hall creak open.

"Is someone in here?" The voice inquired, drifting raspily into the stairwell. At the bottom Hermione held her breath, clutching her wand to her chest.

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