The Descent Beckons

Chapter 2 - Sparks

***

I would never have known this world
That I see today
And I've got a feeling
It won't fade away

***

"Hermione? Hermione,"

"Mmmfph."

"Hermione, wake up!"

"Ergh." Hermione sat up and gingerly rubbed her forehead. She slowly pulled her mind out from the fog that was violently whirling around behind her eyes and realised with a shock that the shimmering orbs were gone.

"What happened?" she asked no-one in particular. Squinting, she tried to distinguish any solid objects through the shadows enveloping her. She sensed a flurry of movement and saw the glinting edges of Harry's glasses, revealed by the little light which entered the room from the crack under the doorway.

"Hermione, are you okay?" asked Harry, squatting down beside her and helping her stand up.

"I-I don't know...what happened?"

"I'm not sure..." replied Harry.

"D'you think we're still in the same room?" Hermione heard Ron's voice ask over by the opposing wall.

"Of course we are, you berk," said Draco matter-of-factly from beside the door.

"I might just be going crazy here, but erm, is it me, or can you all hear music too?" asked Ginny, her voice coming from somewhere beside Ron.

Hermione quietened. She felt the echoes of heavy beats in the stone floor beneath her shoes and as she concentrated she found she could hear it too: the faint sound of singing was sweeping in under the door, surrounding them all with its contagious rhythm. She was focussed on the repetitive tune of the song, when unexpectedly she felt Harry's hair brush against her cheek as he leant in to whisper in her ear.

"Er, Hermione? Why do I all of a sudden have the undeniable urge to put a rose in my mouth and start dancing the tango?" he asked worriedly.

She grinned, her cheek bumping softly into Harry's. "Some wizarding music has magic interwoven into the melodies. When the tune hits your eardrums you just get an unquestionable desire to dance. It's quite clever actually, but people just started dancing at the most inappropriate times, and it was banned. So, naturally, it became the music of the underground rebels. Hasn't actually been used in years..." Hermione trailed off and furrowed her forehead in thought, although Harry couldn't see this through the darkness.

"Hey," said Draco brightly, "it's a party!"

Hermione tensed up and whipped around. "No, wait, don't open the do--"

Music and bright lights instantaneously flooded the room, and Hermione was nearly knocked over by the overwhelming force of it.

"Now this is my sort of party!" exclaimed Draco loudly over the music as he sauntered out into the throng of dancing masses.

"No, Malfoy, come back!" hissed Hermione, grabbing Harry and pulling him out the door.

It was the same room they had been cleaning just minutes before, although now it seemed completely different. The chandeliers were sparkling, the chairs were brand new, and the rectangular tables were set up around the room, the sheets removed to reveal--

"Are they pool tables?" asked Harry beside her, craning his neck to get a proper look.

"No," replied Hermione hurriedly, scanning the crowd for the familiar silvery-blonde crown of hair. "It's a wizarding game, sort of like pool, except the whole 'talent' involved in playing it is in getting drunk. You can't play it unless you get drunk. Not that people don't get drunk when they play pool, of course, but--anyway, that's not the point, we need to find Malfoy!"

"Why? Let the git get lost, it's not like we'll miss him."

Hermione whipped around, her long curly hair flicking a nearby boy in the face. "I'm not exactly sure what's happening at the moment, or where we are, but I have a suspicion, and if I'm right, Merlin help us all...Harry, no matter how much of an idiot Draco is, we need to stick together."

She turned back and narrowed her eyes in a hopeless effort to see through the red-orange haze which drifted through the air, concealing the misdemeanours of the party-goers in a smoky blanket. Shoving her way through the couples writhing against each other on the makeshift dance floor, oblivious to the nasty looks she was getting behind her back, she frantically searched for Draco. Harry followed behind, apologising to the victims of Hermione's forceful limbs. He caught up with her as she was describing Draco to a group of girls who were crowded onto an aubergine couch, asking whether they had seen him. A girl with long dark hair and pale blue eyes looked Hermione up and down and curled her lips into a sneer.

"We don't speak to dirty little Gryffindors," she scoffed, turning away from Hermione.

Hermione opened her mouth, ready to dispense a long line of insults when Harry swiftly wrapped his arms around her waist, rushing her away. He stopped by a group of boys who seemed surprisingly engrossed with staring at the blank ceiling in awe, mouths wide open. Hermione angrily pushed Harry's arms away from her waist and realised that at some point she had picked up one of the empty bottles off the table and had it clenched threateningly in her hand. She placed it quickly down on a nearby stool and raised an irritated eyebrow at Harry.

"What did you do that for? I wasn't going to do anything..." she snapped.

"Oh, no, you were just going to use that empty bottle as a pencil-holder, were you?" replied Harry, raising an equally impressive eyebrow back at Hermione. "I'm fully aware of your violent streak after that wonderful slap you delivered to Malfoy in third year, and I just didn't think now was a time for a repeat performance."

She glanced away, annoyed, and did a double-take.

There he was, silvery hair surrounding his slim face like a feathery halo, standing in front of the bar, smirking at an auburn-haired girl who had just shyly approached him. Hermione darted over and hit him on the arm.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, running off like that? We don't even know what's going on; we can't afford to lose you right now!"

Draco raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to speak. Hermione pointed a finger at him. "And don't even think of coming up with a clever little comment for that, because we don't have the time!" Her gaze dropped down, and she glared back up at him. "What are you drinking?"

Draco glanced casually down at the glass held tenderly in his hand. "It's Absinthe. What, you've never tried it?"

Harry snorted. "It's green. Typical Slytherins..."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Look Granger, It's not like in taking a sip I'll be trapped here for all eternity--"

"We can only hope," muttered Harry.

"--so why don't you two just scamper off and enjoy yourselves? Take advantage of this, a party hasn't been thrown in here for years..."

Hermione paused, mid-lecture. "How many years?" she asked slowly.

Draco shrugged and sculled his drink, slamming it rim-down on the bar. "A couple, I don't know..."

Suddenly, the crowd on the dance floor began to cheer, and Hermione turned to see them staring up at a boy, no older than she, who was standing on one of the tabletops, arms wide in the air. Hermione narrowed her eyes. There was something so familiar about this boy, something she just couldn't quite put her finger on...

"Hey, Potter, he looks just like you," observed Draco, seemingly unastonished. "Except he doesn't have that repulsive scar taking up half his face..."

Hermione turned to Harry and looked at him questioningly. His complexion paled and he sunk down onto a nearby barstool, staring uneasily up at the boy.

"Hermione," he breathed, his eyes widening. "That's my dad."

***

"No, Malfoy, come back!" hissed Hermione, grabbing Harry and pulling him out the door.

"Oh, bloody sodding ponce!" said Ron angrily, leaping up off the floor and turning to his sister. "Well, come on Ginny, we've got to go after them!"

Ginny stood up and looked warily out the door. "Why don't we just stay in here? I don't think it's a good idea if we all go out there, what if we get split up?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Well, we're already split up now aren't we, so come on!" said Ron, seizing Ginny's arm and dragged her out of the room.

The bright lights and smoke intermingled; creating a glowing fog so thick Ginny could only just see the bright mess of Ron's hair bobbing through the haze before her. She gripped tightly onto the back of his robes, allowing him to lead her through the maze of dark, barely identifiable shapes. The smoke begun to sting her eyes, making them water and she was relieved when she found Ron guided her to the sanctuary of an open window. She stuck her head out and breathed deeply, the cold wind refreshingly clearing the smoky grime from her eyes. Gazing down at the grounds, she found the sparkling lake and the secrecy of the shadowed trees calmed her nerves. She was watching the giant squid splashing about when all of a sudden, a flash of movement caught her attention and she looked as someone rounded the corner, jogging by the building. Peering over the window ledge, she tried to get a clearer view but Ron tapped her on the back. She reluctantly left the beauty and stillness of the outside world, savouring the fresh air for as long as possible.

"What is it?" she asked Ron irritably. Ron said nothing, and merely pointed up at a dark-haired boy who was standing on a nearby table.

Ginny squinted. "What's Harry standing on the table for?"

"I don't know, let's just go," said Ron, grabbing her arm and leading her over to the table. As they got closer, it slowly dawned that the boy wasn't Harry and she tugged on Ron's robes, forcing him to stop.

"Wait, Ron, that's not Harry..." said Ginny, staring up at the boy. "Strange, he looks exactly like him, except for the eyes..."

Ron tensed and whipped around. "What did you say?"

"I said that boy looks exactly like Harry."

"No, the next part."

"Except he doesn't have Harry's eyes?" said Ginny, confused.

Ron glanced up at the boy. "Ginny, what do adults generally say when they meet Harry for the first time?"

Ginny shrugged. "I don't know...oh my Merlin, it's Harry Potter? Can I have your autograph? You're a crazy crackpot who's looking for attention? You know, there's plenty of effective glamour spells to fix that scar? Not that I agree with them, of course..."

Ron rolled his eyes. "No, Ginny, they always say 'you look exactly like your father--"

"--except for your eyes'!" finished Ginny, her own eyes suddenly widening. "But...no, you don't really think..."

Ron nodded. "I think that's Harry's dad."

***

Harry stared up at the boy in total disbelief. The same shock of excitement that he had felt when he had seen his father in Snape's Pensieve was forming in the pit of his stomach. However, unlike the last time, a tumult of confusion and dread was lurking beneath that rapture. When he had seen his father the last time, he had been able to justify why and how it had been possible. Living through someone else's memory had resembled a dream. He hadn't been solid, no one could hear him and no-one else had been there with him. This was most definitely reality, and that one startling fact suppressed any sort of jubilant emotion down to the darkest depths of his mind.

James, his father, who was so similar in appearance and yet so different, stood and surveyed the crowd with a glint in his eye. He flashed them all a cheeky grin and raised his bottle into the air.

"ALL HAIL THE ALE!" he hollered.

The horde that was staring at him so fixedly and with such admiration cheered and applauded, raising their own drinks into the air. James began to pace across the table, walking on the edge so intrepidly, eyes roving the room.

"I'm so pleased you all decided to attend our little shindig here tonight, and that despite our differences during classes, even the beautiful and lovely Slytherins have decided to turn up. Of course, I'm talking about the beautiful and lovely Slytherin girls, as all the Slytherin boys are berks, as we know, and if they had turned up, they'd have ended up drinking their Firewhiskeys in the bottom of the lake with the squid. No offence, girls," he added winking to the table of girls that Hermione had almost pummelled. The girls batted their eyelashes and flashed James gleaming smiles.

"Mindless tarts," muttered Hermione darkly beside Harry, glaring daggers at the girls.

"Now, the night is still very young, and I plan on getting extremely pissed on the brilliant selection of beverages the prefects managed to round up for us, and I hope you'll be doing the same, cause a party ain't a party without waking up in the morning with a lampshade on your head and a killer headache. We've got karaoke and poker going until dawn, so enjoy yourselves, have fun, go forth and experiment." He jumped off the table and gazed around the room. "And everyone? THE DRINKS ARE ON ME! CHEERS!"

The crowd applauded and whistled, the music started up again, and the party resumed raging. Harry craned his neck, following his fathers bobbing head until he lost him in the crowd. He swung back around on the stool and folded his arms on the bar, looking glumly at the wall. Hermione placed her delicate hand on his back, her body pressing against him as she leaned forward and whispered comfortingly in his ear. "It'll all be okay..."

"Hey, Potter," interrupted Draco, "how come your dad didn't pass on his talent for partying to you? You wouldn't be such a dull prat if he had. You might actually have a girlfriend, or at least pulled every once in a while..." He downed yet another bright-green Absinthe, obviously unconcerned by Harry's dilemma.

Harry turned his head and narrowed his eyes. "Shut your face you poncy git. For one, whether I have pulled or not isn't any of your concern, and two, I don't need girl advice from someone who on more than one occasion has been accused of driving on the other side of the road."

"You know, just because someone shops at designer stores, uses gardenia hand lotion and occasionally gets manicures does not make them gay," said Draco, crossing his arms and staring menacingly at his empty glass.

"Not someone, a guy," said Harry, swinging around to face Draco. He paused before adding, "You get manicures?"

"Is it such a crime to want to be able to look down at your hands and have gleaming nails at your fingertips?" asked Draco, pained.

"It's probably just in case he doesn't have a mirror around," muttered Hermione. "Then he can just check his reflection in his fingernails."

Draco shot her a threatening look before turning back to Harry. "It's better than those chewed, half-moon, dirt-covered claws you've got, Potter."

Harry glanced down at his hands and had to admit he slightly agreed. Perhaps getting manicures wasn't such a bad idea--

"Can we get back to the point instead of debating beauty advice?" asked Hermione, thankfully interrupting Harry's thoughts.

Harry nodded. "Sorry, you're right, absolutely right. Don't let me get distracted anymore."

"Good," said Hermione. "First thing we need to do is find Ginny and Ron, then we need to get out of this party--"

"Aw," said Draco, pouting. "But the karaoke and poker's about to start!"

Hermione frowned at him. "I don't care. We're leaving. Then, we're going to check out the rest of the castle, find out what else has changed and work out what's going on. All right?"

Harry nodded. Draco rolled his eyes and muttered some form of an agreement.

"So, do you think we should split up and try to find them? It might take too long if we don't," said Hermione, turning from Harry to Draco.

"Well, I think time is something we have quite a bit of," responded Draco, sneakily stealing the olive out of a nearby girl's martini. "It doesn't really look like we're going anywhere anytime soon..."

Hermione picked up a cocktail umbrella that lay forgotten on the bar and pointed it menacingly at him. "Listen, you sarcastic pie-faced ponce, you better start bloody co-operating, otherwise I'm going to prove the people who say that that verbal insults hurt more than physical pain wrong by taking this little green cocktail umbrella and sticking it into your eye."

Draco blinked. "Thanks for painting that pleasant little picture so clearly," he said sarcastically, turning around on his barstool and standing up. "Now," he added, boredom and disappointment clearly heard in his velvety voice, "where's the Weasel and the red-haired sodding little sister?"

"We're right here," said Ginny, emerging from the crowd, Ron in tow. She stopped in front of Draco and raised an eyebrow at him. "And just so you know I'm simply going by 'Ginny' these days, 'the red-haired sodding little sister' was just a tad too long."

"Well, it's better than Virginia," muttered Draco.

"Oh, I agree," responded Ginny, "thankfully that's not my name."

Draco frowned. "It's not?"

Harry slammed his hand down on the bar angrily and shot up off his stool. "CAN WE GET GOING? We've wasted enough bloody time arguing about first names and manicures--"

"Manicures?" asked Ron, bemused.

"Don't worry about it," whispered Hermione, shaking her head at him.

"So can we just get out of here and work out what the sodding hell is happening?" asked Harry, storming off towards the exit.

***

It seemed that the professors in this alternative Hogwarts weren't as strict as the Hogwarts teachers they knew. Students were left to roam free around the castle, even though Hermione had estimated it was currently the very early hours of the morning, a long time after they were usually forced to go to bed.

The group walked apprehensively down the darkened corridors, huddling together cautiously, all except for Draco, who strode off five steps ahead of them, surveying the embracing couples that flanked the corridors with interest.

"OH MY MERLIN!" squealed a blonde haired girl, appearing at the top of a set of nearby stairs and nearly causing Hermione to have a heart attack. The couples hesitantly stopped indulging their raging hormones and looked up in mild interest. "SIRIUS BLACK IS STREAKING OUTSIDE!"

"Oh, that's what I saw!" exclaimed Ginny, grinning.

Ron whipped around and glared at her. "You saw Sirius streaking? GINNY! You shouldn't be looking at...all that!"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I was five stories up, it's not like I could really see. And besides, what do you think I am, some kind of perve?"

"Yes," said Draco.

Ron shot him an 'I'll-fist-you-up-the-arse-if-you-don't-shut-it' look and turned back to lecture Ginny when he was almost knocked over by the mass of teenagers zooming over to cluster in front of the closest windows. They began talking rapidly and were craning their necks to get a better view. A rumble went through the crowd as they cheered and one tall boy with sandy hair opened the windows.

"On ya, Black!" he roared, whistling.

Hermione felt Harry's knees buckle beside her at the mention of his godfathers name and she grabbed his arm, steadying him up. Harry was rushed through the nearest archway by Hermione and Ginny. They sat him down against the wall, and Ron joined them, concerned.

"Sirius is here too?" asked Harry weakly, staring up at Hermione.

She sunk down beside him and lightly grasped his hand. "I guess so."

Ginny crouched down and patted his knee. "It would make sense if your dad was here too...wherever here is."

Draco sauntered in through the archway and raised an eyebrow at Hermione holding Harry's hand. Hermione rolled her eyes at him and Draco shrugged it off in his elegant way and leant against the opposite wall, folding his arms against his chest.

Ron went to speak, but paused, wary. "Are you sure we aren't dead?" he finally asked tentatively, squatting down beside Hermione.

Harry frowned. "Why do you ask that?"

Ron shrugged. "Well, the only people we've heard of here that we actually know are both, well, dead. So, shouldn't we be too?"

"Yeah, because Hogwarts is where people go when they die," said Draco sarcastically, gracefully rolling his eyes.

"Malfoy's got a point," admitted Ginny, standing up. "And besides, I think we'd feel different if we were dead. And I don't. Except for maybe a bit confused and terrified to the very depths of my soul, but that's not to the point."

Hermione nodded. "Ginny's right. We're not dead. Something else is going on here, and we've got to find out what." She stood and held out her hand to help Harry up. Harry nodded and clasped her hand, pulling himself up.

"Let's go," he said, determinedly leading them down the corridor.

***

"Harry, we've been walking for ages, where exactly are you taking us?" complained Ginny.

Harry was still storming on ahead, focused. "I'm not exactly sure. I figure if we just keep walking eventually we'll end up somewhere useful."

"Oh, brilliant!" scoffed Draco. "You Gryffindors come up with such strategies, really cunning plans, it's such a shock you all get attacked or arrested or die."

"Shut it, Malfoy," shot Ron, turning and staring at him warningly. Draco stealthily did someone behind Ron's back which caused some of the older portraits lining the walls to gasp in disgust.

"Look, Harry, why don't we just sit down and take a break? We're really not getting anywhere..." said Hermione cautiously, attempting not to anger Harry further.

Harry sighed and his heavy shoulders sagged. "Sure, fine."

Ginny immediately dropped down to the floor and leant against the wall, laying her head back. Ron sat beside her, taking off his school robes to reveal the worn jeans and navy t-shirt he was wearing underneath, muttering crossly under his breath. Draco sat down on an open window ledge on the opposing wall of the corridor, and stared thoughtfully out into the grounds. The gleaming moonlight shone through the cross work of the leadlight windows, casting a jumbled puzzle of shadows across his fair skin.

Ginny half-opened her eyes and gazed at him, unexpectedly captivated by how beautiful he looked. She found that this was the first time she didn't have the urge to cause him grievous bodily harm and decided that is how she liked Draco best. When he was stripped of all his sarcasm, his self-assurance, his arrogance, and he just was. Not hateful or mistrusting, just thoughtful and full of serenity. His grey eyes were drifting calmly, surveying the outside world with interest. She wondered if he found watching the grounds as calming as she did. Perhaps he did, she mused, and that was why he always chose to sit by the window, and why he always seemed so entranced when he gazed out into the gardens.

After a few minutes, Ginny was getting worried by the fact that she was finding it increasingly difficult to stop staring at him. There's got to be a scientific reason for this, she thought bitterly. No one person could have this great an effect on girls naturally...maybe it's the cologne he wears...oh, good one Ginny, blame the cologne for why you can't stop looking at him...

Ron seemed to be immune to this undeniable allure of Draco's, and eyed him with loathing. "I wish anyone but you could've gotten trapped here with us. Anyone."

Draco blinked and brought himself out of his quiet stupor. "Well, I wish I was being fed peeled grapes by Pansy and Tracy, while they worshiped my boyish good looks and unrivalled wit, but we don't always get what we wish for, do we?" he replied coolly.

Ron seemed to be torn between deciding whether to punch Draco's snide smirk off his face or whether to throw up at the mental image of Pansy Parkinson feeding Draco peeled grapes instead.

*

Hermione rolled her eyes at Draco and dragged with Harry a bit further down the corridor, out of ear-shot.

"How are you?" she asked gently.

"Oh, fine," he muttered sarcastically. "We're trapped Merlin knows where, with sodding Malfoy, of all people, my murdered dad is apparently very much alive and has a drinking problem, and my dead godfather is outside, running around with his dacks off. Yeah, everything's just peaches."

Hermione placed a delicate hand on his arm and looked at him, concerned. His fiery green eyes were wavering behind his glasses, looking everywhere but at her.

Cry, Harry. If you want to, cry. You deserve to, you need to. What do you save all your tears for?

"Why are we here, Hermione?" he asked quietly, looking down at his palms. "Why when I think I can finally deal with everything, finally return to some form of normal, something happens to flip everything upside-down and places me back in the middle of the same fucking mess?"

Hermione slipped a hand into Harry's, silently looking at their intertwined fingers. She found the way their tanned skin melded perfectly together oddly comforting.

Willing her tears not to well up so violently in her eyes, she glanced up, forcing herself to look at him. "I don't know, Harry."

"What did I do to deserve all this? And I don't mean it if I sound a bit self-righteous, but really, what could anyone possible do to deserve what I get?"

Oh, Harry, you could never sound self-righteous.

She tightened her grip on his hand. "I don't know, Harry," she whispered.

Suddenly, a flurry of movement at the corner of her eye caught Hermione's attention. She turned and realised suddenly which corridor they were in, and where they had stopped. It was the same corridor she had been in earlier that day, with Ron, when she had been crying.

Well, it's nice to know things haven't changed that much... she thought with as much sarcasm as she could muster.

And here, opening now, the familiar stone gargoyle sliding back, was the entrance to Dumbledore's office.

The towering figure of Albus Dumbledore strode into view, robes shimmering varying shades of sapphire. His hair and beard were shorter than what they were familiar to, and were now an ashen grey instead of the luminous white which was ordinarily so impressive. He clasped his hands together behind his back and promptly crossed the corridor to the group of teenagers accumulated beneath the stone archway.

He surveyed them so kindly over his half-moon spectacles, that familiar twinkle in his wise blue eyes, and gestured for them to stand up. They obliged, albeit slowly, as they stared at him, anxious and mystified.

"It's about time you arrived here," he beamed.

***

References:

"I would never have known this world, that I see today, and I've got a feeling, it won't fade away." - Katie Melua, 'Call Off the Search'. These lyrics just seem entirely appropriate.

"Draco glanced casually down at the glass held tenderly in his hand. "It's Absinthe. What, you've never tried it?"" - Absinthe (also called 'La Fee Verte' [the Green Fairy] by the French), in case you were wondering, is actually green, and does exist. If you've ever seen Moulin Rouge, it's the drink Christian gets introduced to by the bohemians.

"Draco rolled his eyes. "Look Granger, It's not like in taking a sip I'll be trapped here for all eternity--"" - This is an idea from the story of 'Persephone' in Greek Mythology. The story goes that Persephone was kidnapped by the God of the Underworld, Hades, as he wanted to make her his bride. The only way Hades could keep Persephone with him was if she ate food during her time there. The amount of food you eat while you are there, that's how long you stay for. She resisted temptation for a long time, but unfortunately (for her, not for Hades), at the last moments before she was saved she was offered a pomegranate (her favourite fruit) by a young boy and progressed to eat six pomegranate seeds. Hades discovered this, and for the rest of Persephone's life she was forced to spend six months of each year in the Underworld.

""I'm going to prove the people who say that that verbal insults hurt more than physical pain wrong by taking this little green cocktail umbrella and sticking it into your eye."" - If you've ever read 'The Draco Trilogy' by Cassandra Claire, you'll know that Draco prefers a green cocktail umbrella in his drinks, and so I decided to put this in as a little ode to the genius that is Cassandra Claire.

""Well, it's better than Virginia," muttered Draco.

"Oh, I agree," responded Ginny, "thankfully that's not my name."" - This was put in because of the constant confusion of Ginny's full name, which is, as many of you know, actually Ginerva.