Draco Malfoy was there, right in front of him, using a poor innocent as a lab rat to practice his Doloris spell. Nothing could make him prouder of himself. And even though he knew that if the Malfoy boy did it, he was doing it out of fear, he felt an unhealthy joy in it.
The young blond boy finally stopped torturing the person who had remained unconscious on the pavement made even colder by the gloomy atmosphere. The expression that had taken his face reflected all his horror and his disgust. So why did he do it then? He already regretted his unforgivable act. He hated himself. He had just tortured a complete stranger, who had done nothing to him. Who didn't deserve this fate. But he had done it.
What's done is done.
Ah, what a bad friend cowardice is! It was then that he felt the Dark Mage getting closer to him.
Still bent over, Draco shuddered inside, consumed by an immense hatred, but also by a guilt that would probably never leave him.
- I'm proud of you, Draco," he heard behind his shoulder. Your father will be too, once I tell him of this glorious... event.
Voldemort's voice was like an unbearable whistle to the Slytherin's eardrums. He straightened up to face the Dark Lord without looking at him, and continued on his way without a word. A few feet away, he moved on.
The Dark Mage, left alone, shifted the body on the ground with his foot, after which he evaporated into black smoke, landing at the edge of the Hogwarts lake. A person moved behind him. It was one of his Death Eaters. The hooded Death Eater bowed behind his master.
- Master," he began.
- What news do you bring me, Dolohov? voice.
- Master, we have located the son of Malfoy.
- You are very late, for I have already met him myself.
The loyal disciple looked up and expressed his astonishment.
- Excuse me Master, I didn't think you had gone to the Muggle world.
His master turned around, surprised by his disciple's words.
- Muggles, you say?
- Indeed," Dolohov nodded, lowering his head as if he feared to meet his interlocutor's eyes. I spotted him a few hours ago near a muggle's house.
- And who is the lucky one?
- She's a Mudblood master: Hermione Granger.
Voldemort smiled an ugly, malicious smile.
- So Lucius' son is hanging out with the Mudbloods... Now that's interesting.
*
After what her father had just told her, Hermione had locked herself in her room. It was out of the question for her to come out. It was a betrayal she had just undergone! She was outraged by her parents' behavior. It was as if she had been put on the market.
The young Gryffindor was lying flat on her bed, her pillow under her chin. She was thinking about the events that had just succeeded one another. And that dream. No, there was no way that Draco had actually used the Doloris spell on a poor stranger. It was just a horrible nightmare and nothing she had seen was real! That's what she thought. She was far from it...
A few minutes later, Hermione heard her parents leaving. They were unbelievable, acting as if nothing had happened! She had to find a solution, but what would be the wisest thing to do? It was then that a crazy idea crossed her mind: why not run away and not be subjected to her parents' whims anymore? All she had to do was get her wand back and she could go anywhere. After all, as an adult witch, she no longer had the trace and could use her magic as she saw fit. Why not go to the Weasleys' house to begin with? She thought for a few more moments before deciding; it was the only thing left to do. So, with a leap, she jumped out of bed and dashed to the other end of the floor, where her parents' room was located.
In front of the wooden door, the brunette stood still and closed her eyes, praying that it was not locked. She stretched out her hand in front of her to put it on the rounded and varnished handle of a brown color which reminded the scales of some snakes. In a hesitant gesture, the Gryffindor finally decided to turn the handle, without really believing it, and it was with dismayed surprise that Hermione felt the door creak and recoil under her gesture.
- That looks too easy!
After these words, she entered her parents' room with the goal of getting her hands on her wand.
She ran around as if she was afraid of being caught, searching every drawer that might contain her magical weapon. She finally found it, hidden under a pile of clothes in the waxed wooden wardrobe. Ah, how she had missed that wand!
With the object in hand, she left the room and ran to her own to prepare her bare necessities. But as she was packing her things, a thought occurred to her.
Draco.
He had kissed her...
And there was this part of her life that she had forgotten and that he kept making her remember...
There was Draco... The man she loved. And he probably loved her too. Why else would he have kissed her?
But then, what to do?
It was completely crazy but...
The decision was made; she would go in search of the man of her life! The man of her life? She thought she was delirious. Let's assume that adrenaline was the reason.
Once she was ready, with a bag no bigger than a grapefruit in her hand, Hermione walked out of her house, without too much trouble thanks to her eternal door opening spell - which she could have done earlier if she had her wand.
The ten o'clock wind caressed her face. A satisfied smile spread across her face; at last she was free! She ejected from the house that had been like a prison for her, held by some rather unusual jailers. The fresh air was like a caress and a new beginning for her. Believing herself to be free, she hurried away from her "home sweet home". She needed to feel the Muggle wind one last time before she apparated. It was strange to talk about muggle wind and wizard wind. But she wanted to keep that image in her mind, before she left, because she didn't think she would come back. For the moment, that was not an option. She slowed down her walk, but a few meters later, Hermione would realize that it wasn't always easy to accomplish the goal one had set. Pierre was already waving at her in the distance. The Gryffindor would have preferred to ignore him but she wanted to avoid him asking questions, so she walked towards him.
- Hey," began the young boy. I didn't expect to see you again so soon!
- Yes, well," Hermione said impatiently.
- You seem to be in a hurry, are you going somewhere?
Anyway, he had made a good fool of her, that Pierre, acting as if nothing had happened, even though he was in on it up to his neck! She was going to tell him what she thought:
- Stop pretending to be interested in me! I know what's going on!
- What's going on?" Pierre said with a confused look. What's going on?
Hermione stared at him, and he seemed not to understand what she was implying.
- The wedding," she continued.
- What wedding are you talking about?
- OURS!
- Calm down!" Pierre exclaimed. Don't be in such a hurry. I like you a lot, but I'm not thinking of getting married yet...
With that, Hermione felt sorry for the boy who apparently didn't even know he was promised to her:
- Well, I'll have you know," said the brunette in a calmer tone, "that my parents have decided to marry me to you. If my parents have decided, it's because yours have too. Our meeting in the park this morning was no accident. They had planned everything...
Pierre laughed at what his interlocutor had just said. Hermione was sorry, but she had to leave as soon as possible. If he didn't believe her, there was nothing more she could do for him, and anyway, she wouldn't be there to put a ring on his finger.
- I understand perfectly if you don't believe me. But right now, I have to go. I have nothing against you, but I don't want to get married against my will. That's why I'm leaving.
- With that little bag?" asked the boy, still laughing.
- It's a long story. But ask your parents and you'll see. Goodbye Pierre.
After these words, she ran away from him, her hair in the wind. Once out of sight of Pierre and anyone else, Hermione stopped to catch her breath. It was time to apparate. But as she looked up, thick black smoke landed in front of her, transforming into a person dressed all in black, his face covered by a gray mask. She barely had time to scream as the person grabbed her before taking her to apparate. It was a horrible moment for Hermione as she landed on a patch of rocks.
Before she could look up to see where she was, her assailant blindfolded her as roughly as he could. She could not even see her hands, reddened and all prickly, to have undergone such an abrupt landing. Still stunned by this unexpected trip, she didn't understand anything when she was forced to stand up and pushed forward.
The corridors and staircases followed one another, and the young Gryffindor who was not spared by her jailer kept falling, her hands held by a spell. She knew that it would be useless for her to scream under these conditions and she simply waited for the moment when she would arrive at her destination.
The place where she was eventually taken was dark and gloomy, and had a very unpleasant smell. Her sight was restored and she could see the weathered stone walls around her. Hermione did her best to sit up, dusting off her jeans at the same time. While she was inwardly cursing, equally terrified at the thought of what had just happened and what was about to happen, she looked up. The person standing in front of her was the same person who had made her apparate; a Death Eater. With his wand, he evaporated his mask to reveal his face. A sick, disgusted smile was drawn on it. Hermione took a step back, not looking down.
- The Master has plans for you, you mudblood.
And with a horrible laugh, he left the room, not without closing the door behind him.
Hermione rushed to try to open it. It was locked. Then she wanted to take out her wand, but she quickly realized that it was no longer in her possession. She was trapped now. She sighed and went to sit in a corner, knees against her chest.
What had just happened? She did not understand what she was doing here. Where the hell was she? And why had Voldemort kidnapped her? She tried to put the pieces together, but no plausible answer came to her. Unless... But yes! It was for Harry! He would use her to lure Harry to him! She had to be strong, she had to overcome this, as she had done so many times before. But knowing that she was at Voldemort's mercy took away all her courage. She regretted leaving her room. But they would have found her anyway, right? Why would they? What about Draco?
Draco...
In her whisper, despair and hope had crept in at the same time. She wished he was there, to protect her. But the image of him casting an unforgivable spell on a stranger wouldn't leave her mind. What if... what if he really did it? No, Hermione wouldn't come to terms with it. There was no reason for him to do that. He wouldn't. This wasn't the person she loved. No. The person she loved, the Draco she loved, he was different. The one she loved was the one she had seen that day on the bridge at Hogwarts. The one who let himself be carried away by the softness of the wind on his skin, the one who, behind his mask, hid a sensitive being. The one who had seemed fragile, to protect at all costs. The one who kept talking to her about that night, that night she had forgotten... The one she loved was the one who had kissed her, the one who had a sparkling gleam of hope in his eyes... The one she loved, it was impossible for him to do such a horror. No. And he would come and save her. It seemed so inconceivable... But she needed comfort, to feel reassured. But how could she feel safe when she was locked in the dark, at the mercy of a Dark Mage, with no way out? A tear slid slowly down her pale cheek. She wiped it away with the back of her sleeve. She mustn't cry.
And even if more tears threatened to fall from her hazel eyes, appearing like tiny glittering beads on her lashes, she would hold them back. She would hold them back even if her throat knotted, even if a frozen anvil settled in her chest. Even if it hurt, she would hold them. And she would wait. It was the only thing she could do. And as she struggled to stay awake, Morpheus was stronger than she was, and it was as she let herself be swept away in his arms that she could not hold back a tear that had managed to cross the boundary formed by her eyelids.
As soon as she fell asleep, her dreams took her back to Hogwarts, where she saw a figure walking hesitantly, fists clenched in the halls. Draco. He was walking until he was intercepted by another person. Snape.
- Your father wishes to see you, Malfoy.
Draco seemed not to understand.
- My father is at Hogwarts?
- In your manor Malfoy," Snape continued with a distant, haughty look. Classes can wait. You'll apparate. You can do it. Am I right?
Then he walked away with a heavy step, but seemed to fly away behind his long black cloak. Draco was already shivering at the thought of returning home. Especially now that his father knew he had raised the alarm. But he couldn't back down now. He had just seen the Dark Lord anyway. What could be worse?
Hermione was still in the same position. She woke up chastising herself for dreaming about Draco again. Again. She didn't even understand the meaning of the strange dream. She just had a headache. And cold. Cold all over.
Cold.
What impact did the cold have on you, when there was nothing but cold already deep inside you? A cold that is conveyed by fear. A cold conveyed by apprehensions...
Cold.
Cold of incompleteness. Cold of destitution. Cold of indigence.
So what impact did the cold have on her? Was it worse, or was it the same?
It was worse.
She didn't know where she was, and the worst was waiting for her.
And she was waiting for it too.
A few hours later, a few minutes later. She couldn't tell, but already outside, the sun was starting to set. Suddenly, while her face was still buried in her arms, she heard the door open. Slowly. Very slowly. This was the moment. She had to take her chance. In a rush, Hermione straightened up, pressing herself against the damp wall behind her, apprehensive. When she could make out the person entering, she took a step forward. Was she hallucinating?
- Ma... Malfoy?
The tall blond man said nothing, but seemed equally surprised to see her. And he received her in his arms at a complete loss. Now she could cry. She poured all her tears into the arms of the one she had waited for so long. All her despair was washed away, running down her skin. She was relieved to feel the anvil inside her disappear, relieved to be able to get rid of this lump that had knotted her throat. Relieved to be in Draco's arms. In Draco Malfoy's arms... In the arms of the one she loved.
She loved him.
Striking evidence.
He had closed his eyes. He was holding Hermione in his embrace but his eyebrows were furrowed. It was his turn to feel his tears threaten to flow. He said nothing. The only sound that came to disturb the silence was Hermione crying. She felt good. A soothing warmth had filled her body. She didn't want to leave him. No, this was too wonderful and unreal to interrupt. Every second counted. Every second was precious.
- Merlin thank you..." Hermione murmured as she began to calm down. You're here... you're going to free me...
That sentence sounded more like a statement than a question.
- I... I can't," Draco said.
Surprised by his answer, Hermione broke away from his embrace. Her face still wet, she looked at Draco, who stood before her, his eyes downcast.
- How? But then...
As if the truth had come to her as a matter of course, she hurriedly stepped back to put some considerable distance between them. She looked at Malfoy with fear, not really willing to understand what was going on. And what COULD be happening...
- I see the reunion is over," came a hissing voice from behind Draco. That's good, so you can do it faster.
- Faster?" Hermione questioned as she finally saw the Dark Lord stalking the Slytherin. What is he talking about Malfoy?
- Oh but a reward, dear... A reward like you deserve... Like they all do! The likes of you!" Voldemort breathed with a malicious, hateful look in his eyes.
The whip of evidence did not spare him.
No !
He wouldn't let that happen...
- Go ahead," the Dark Mage whispered close to the tall blond's ear. Don't spare yourself.
No !
Another whiplash of the obvious; it was him, Draco who was going to cast the spell on her and not Voldemort as she thought.
Draco slowly raised his wand in front of him to point it at a terrified and pleading Hermione with his eyes.
Was he seeing her or not? He could see her, but he refused to see Hermione. Refused to see that it was Hermione Granger, the one he loved, standing before him, helpless. If he saw her this way, he would not be able to complete his act. Behind him stood the most powerful Dark Mage. The Dark Lord. If Draco were to spare the one he loved, the evil wizard would take great pleasure in casting the spell himself. He would take great pleasure in casting the spell on the two young people himself. Without mercy. So he had to. He had to. Did he really have to? Didn't he have the choice to spare her this pain?
He could find a way to spare her that pain. He knew he could. And she would be saved. Even if he had to pay the price.
"You always taught me that you have to suffer the consequences of your actions."
Would he pay that price?