Lost in the Dark

Part One

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Chapter 1

There was no moon, only a silver crescent lost behind a cloud. The air was heavy with night's moisture, and the few starts not hidden by the clouds looked very far away and icy-brilliant. Hermione shivered. The blackness around her seemed formless, infinite. She had rushed blindly into the castle's outskirts, and now she couldn't make out the familiar shapes of neither the magnificent castle nor Hagrid's little hut that should be nearby. She turned in sudden panic, looking for something, anything at all. But all that she saw was pitch darkness. No light showed anywhere. It was as if she were lost in a bleak and unknown silent world. Nothing was stirring in the night, not a leaf, not a feather on a bird's wing. Terror plucked at her taut nerves, and she wanted to run. But where to? Everywhere was alien darkness.

Hermione clenched her teeth. What kind of foolishness was this? She was at home, at Hogwarts, and the dark and the cold will be gone as soon as the sun's up. She forced a laugh; the shrill unnatural sound made her jump.

They do say it's always darkest at midnight, she thought. I reckon this is proof of it. I'm fretting, that's all. I just won't give into it.

She put a hand out before her into the blackness and walked ahead toward where she thought the castle should be. A sunken spot made her stumble, and she fell.

Every exhausted, frightened part of her body cried out that she should give up, stay where she was, hugging the safety of the unseen ground beneath her until the day came and she could see.

But she couldn't stay there all that long; she shouldn't have been there in the first place. But she'd needed to get out, and out she went; looking for some peace, something to forget; to forget the image of Harry and Ginny kissing. She only wanted to forget it all.

Hermione brought herself slowly to her knees and felt around for anything. Surely there'd never been such pitch darkness before in the world. Or such wet cold night air. She was gasping for breath. Where was the castle?

Her fingers brushed across a cold stone, Hermione scrabbled along on her knees toward it, and then both hands were clasping the ridged sides of the cold rock. She sat back on her heels, holding to it in a desperate embrace.

Oh Lord, I'm all turned around now. I don't even know where I am. I'm lost in the night. She looked frantically, searching for any light at all, but the sky was black. And even cold distant starts had disappeared.

For a moment she wanted to cry out, to scream and scream until she woke someone in the school, someone who would light a wand, who'd come find her and lead her inside.

Her pride forbade it. Lost in the school grounds, only a few steps from the main doors! She'd never live down the shame of it.

She began to crawl clumsily on hands and knees across the dark earth. Sooner or later she'd run into something- the castle, a tree, anything- and she'd get her bearings. It would be quicker to get up and walk. She wouldn't feel like such a fool, either. But she might fall again, and this time twist her ankle or something. Then she'd be helpless and lost.

Where was the castle? It had to be there somewhere, she felt as if she'd crawled all the way to Hogsmeade. Panic brushed past her. Suppose the darkness never lifted, suppose she just kept on crawling and crawling without reaching anything?

Stop it! She told herself, stop it right now. Her throat was making strangled noises.

She struggled to her feet, made herself breath slowly, made her mind take command of her racing heart. She was Hermione Granger, she told herself. She was at Hogwarts, and she knew every foot of the place better than she knew her own hand. So what if she couldn't see four inches in front of her? She knew what was there; all she had to do was find it.

And she'd do it on her feet, not on all fours like a baby or a dog. She lifted her chin, wiped her tear strained cheeks and squared her thin shoulders. Thank God no one had seen her sprawled in the dirt or inching along over it, afraid to get up. Never in all her life had she been beaten, not by Voldemort's assails, not by anything. Nobody, nothing could beat her unless she let them, and then she'd deserve it. The very idea of being afraid of the dark, like some cowardly cry-baby!

I guess I let things get me down as far as a person can go, she thought with disgust, and her own scorn warmed her. I won't let it happen again, ever, no matter what comes. Once you get down all the way, the road can only go up. If my life is messed up, I'll clean up the mess. I won't lie in it.

Hermione walked forward with firm steps. Almost at once she bumped into something, or rather someone...

*

"Lumos," he whispered, and the sight that met him was the most unexpected.

Her eyes were red, her cheeks tear-strained, and her clothes dirty with mud. She looked up and met his eyes, shock, and apprehension was evident on their brown deeps.

"Granger," Draco Malfoy said softly, eyeing his Head partner inquisitively.

"Malfoy," Hermione said startle.

"What are you doing out here, Granger?" Draco asked coolly.

"I should be asking you the same," Hermione asked recovering her demeanor.

"I am the Head Boy," Draco pointed out.

"That doesn't mean you can be out of bed pass curfew," Hermione said, ignoring the little voice at the back of her head that was pointing out that she was as well out of bed pass hours.

"It certainly does not, but the Head Boy arrangement does have its inconveniences, like, umm... let me think..." He said thoughtful, his voice dripping sarcasm. "Patrolling?" he suggested.

Hermione glared at the blonde boy but he seemed to be more interested in her wearisome than her icy glare. Self conscious of Draco's eyes on her she felt rather assaulted.

"What are you looking at?" she snapped, felling very irritated with his ogle.

"What are doing here, Granger, and what are you wearing?" he asked pointing at her dressing.

"Malfoy, what I wear or not is none of your business," she said through gritted teeth.

Draco looked at her, square in the eye, and the dropped his gaze at her purple lips.

"You're frizzing," he said.

Hermione looked angrily at him and pushed pass him. Draco however had no intention of letting her off-the-hook so easily.

"Granger," Draco called in a warning tone.

"What?" Hermione snapped; Draco walked pass forward her and blocked her way.

"You're fizzing," he repeated.

"Yes, Malfoy, I'm frizzing, and if you'd only get out of my way, so I can go to the warm of the common room, that'd be great," Hermione said hotly.

"Well, aren't we touchy," he commented unclasping his Slytherin clock, he smoothed it and then he put it around he bare shoulders. "There that'd do it."

"Thanks," Hermione said truly amazed at his action.

"Hey, no problem," he shrugged. "Now you can tell me what you were doing here, without a cloak, and obviously without your wand."

"What makes you think I don't have my wand with me, Malfoy?" she said and started walking toward the main entrance.

"Oh, come on, Granger, give it up. You were lost, and not that is your fault the night is extremely dark." he commented.

"I wasn't lost!" Hermione alleged indignantly.

Draco sighted. For the pass two month he had been working with Hermione in their Head's duties, and some researching for the Order, furthermore in that time he had come to know that if there was a word that could describe Hermione Granger perfectly that was obstinate.

"Well that's beside the point, Granger. What were you doing here at this damnable hour?" he insisted.

"I needed fresh air," she simply lied.

Surely the boy was true Slytherin; by the nasty smirk that was crossing his handsome features she knew that he was aware of her lie.

"You know, Granger, you don't stop surprising me, first and agent to the Order, although with your lying skills it won't be long for you to end up dead-"

"What do you know about me!" she exclaimed angrily.

"I know what you saw," he said quietly.

Hermione stared at him blankly. How could this boy be the same nasty twerp that had tormented them five years prior to their sixth year in school? How could he have changed so much in so little time?

She knew the answer perfectly well: Ginny. She had changed him; she had made him accept himself for what he really was and not for what his father had wanted him to be.

Ginny and Draco held a solid relationship starting on Draco's sixth year. Ginny changed him, Hermione though bitterly. Always sweet-little Ginny Weasley. She had been the one who had brought him to the Order, she had been the only one who had believe in him, she was the only one who had seen the good in him.

"Always Ginny," Hermione said barely above a whisper.

"Yeah, Ginny is something else," he agreed.

Hermione had the decency to look reluctant; he had heard her! Suddenly it hit Hermione that if Draco knew why she had been outside, then he had seen Ginny and Harry too! She glanced up at him; he was about a head taller than her, his grey eyes were shinning with the wand's light, but he didn't seemed mad, if all he looked amused.

"Malfoy," Hermione said softly.

"We broke up," he said not looking down at her.

"Oh, I'm sorry-"

"Don't be. I love Ginny, but I don't think I've ever been in love with her. My love for her is just a platonic one. She was the first person who's ever had faith in me, and well..." he trailed off.

"I thought you loved her. I mean you guys looked so in love that-"

"Are you serious? Ginny and I barely ever showed that kind of affection toward each other, let alone in public," he laughed.

How rich his laughter is, Hermione mused.

But there was something at the back of her mind that was intriguing. If he hadn't loved her, then why did he turn against his father for her?

"If you didn't love her, then why did you do what you did for her?" she inquired.

He laughed even louder, and Hermione had the uneasiness that they'd surely get caught if he didn't quite down.

"Shh, we'll get caught," she said anxiously.

"Oh, don't worry, Filch must still be terrifying the two Ravenclaws I caught in the astronomy tower," he said dismissible.

"Well, but that doesn't mean that you can make all noise you want, we're still breaking rules," she said sternly.

"Granger, you're incredible. You want me to stay quiet after that ridiculous assumption of yours? Certainly, my dear Gryffindor no can do," he said smiling. "You think I did what I did because of Ginny? Granger, I don't do anything for nobody but myself."

Hermione stopped in her tracks and looked at him through narrow eyes.

"What do you mean?" she asked suspiciously.

"Oh, come on, Granger, you wouldn't be thinking that I'd betray the Order. No, Granger, true to be told I like being part of it, but I didn't join because Ginny asked me to, I joined because I was tired of my father, tired of his stupid methods."

Hermione looked at him, after a long perusal she started walking again side by side with the boy that had once been her nemesis and that could now be call her cohort. Undoubtedly there was more to Draco Malfoy than what Ginny had exposed.

After a long pause they both found themselves staring at the portrait that would lead them to the common room they shared. Draco said the password and the portrait swum open, letting Hermione walk in first Draco walked over to the fire and light it alive.

Hermione glanced over to the grandfather clock on the far end of the room, 12:30 it marked, she looked back at Draco whom had seated down on the cushion couch and was looking at the fire intensely.

"Aren't you going to bed?" she asked.

"No," he said without looking at her.

"Goodnight, then," she said.

"'Night, Granger," he said softly.

She started to walk away, but something stopped her, she turned around and said to him: "You know, Malfoy, you were right, I was lost. Thanks."

Draco turned to look at her, but the only thing he saw was her retreating back as she walked toward her room.