Eden

'DEATH-EATERS AMONG US ONCE MORE'

'A source from the Ministry of Magic has told the Prophet that there has, one again, been a mass breakout from Azkaban. Our informant, who wishes to remain anonymous, claims that the new security measures put in place after the desertion of the Dementors were not enough to keep six dangerous prisoners, all of whom are thought to be Death-Eaters, locked up.

'They (the ministry) tried almost everything; I lost count of the amount of new spells they put on the place. They put hundreds of Aurors on guard duty; at one point they even thought of using trolls as security back-up. But nothing could match up to the effectiveness of the Dementors. The prisoners could feel happiness, and so were, I believe, able to keep their heads and plan their escape.'

Our source wishes to make it clear that it is yet unknown how the prisoners escaped. However, they have claimed that the Ministry is fully aware of the breakout, and that a cover-up is being attempted.

'The minister doesn't want the public to know that he's failed to protect them. He's built his reputation on being strong, and doesn't want to lose his job after only a year.'

Rufus Scrimgeour has refused to comment on this story.'

I sit back after reading the article, allowing the newspaper to fall onto my desk.

I don't know why this has shocked me. There's been a bigger breakout than this before. And it's not as if it's entirely unexpected. It had always been the Dementors that had kept the prisoners where they were, not Azkaban itself. I suppose we all knew, deep down, that it was only a matter of time before more prisoners would manage to escape.

All the same, knowing that it was probably going to happen anyway doesn't make things any better. Six more Death-Eaters are on the loose. As if the Order needs more trouble, what with Dumbledore's death and Snape's defection.

I pick up the paper and read the article again. It doesn't say who has escaped. It could be anyone. All it says is there were six of them.

I put the paper down and walk over to my window. I can feel a hollow, tickling feeling in the pit of my stomach. It's not hard to feel frightened these days, but the thought of Voldemort's army growing in size just reminds me of how bad things are getting. Ever since Dumbledore's death, I've been wondering whether we really can win this war...

And I'm scared. I don't like admitting it, but it's true. I'm scared for my family, and my friends, and the Order. And for myself.

I reach my window, and find myself frightened of looking out into the street. It's so stupid, I know, but I'm afraid of what I might see. I haven't felt like this since I was little, when I was scared of the dark and I had to sleep with the landing light on. I'd pull my bed-covers up over my head, too frightened to look out into the darkness of my room in case there was something there.

Are you still five years old, Hermione? Look out of the window.

I lean forward nervously, look down into the street, and I see...

Nothing.

Well. I see the dark suburban road, the parked cars, the identical houses, and the moon in the black sky. There's nothing at all unusual out there.

But as I look, every patch of darkness, every shadow seems to become a Death-Eater's robe.

I walk back to my desk and sit at it, pulling one of my legs up and hugging it to myself for comfort.

I'll feel safer at the Burrow.

I relax a little. I'm going to Ron's house tomorrow. The Weasleys have invited me and Harry to stay for Bill and Phlegm's wedding. There'll be full-grown wizards about, and protecting charms on the building itself, I imagine. It won't just be me on my own, and I won't be putting my parents in danger...

I'm really looking forward to going, actually. The Weasleys are a laugh. Fred and George will be there for the wedding, so it certainly won't be a quiet week. And Mrs Weasley's food is always great. I'll see Harry, and Ginny, and...

And Ron?

I smile to myself and press my forehead to my knee, feeling embarrassed although there's no-one here.

I don't know... now that he's done a bit of growing up and Lavender's out of the way, things... could happen.

I hug my knee tighter to my chest.

Get a grip, Hermione!

Maybe, after the wedding...

After the wedding...

Ron and I have told Harry that after the wedding we will go with him, wherever he goes.

That hollow, tickling sensation creeps into my stomach again.

He told us he needs to destroy Voldemort's Horcruxes, all of them, and then go after Voldemort himself. I honestly don't know how he can cope with everything, considering all he's been through. I wouldn't even know where to begin with something of that magnitude.

And I don't know how I can help him. Oh, I know I'm good at spells, but I've never fought in an actual battle before. Unless you count the Department of Mysteries, but I was cursed unconscious for most of the time we were there. A fat lot of help I was then...

And, although I'm ashamed to admit this, I don't want to see Voldemort. It's different for Harry, he's seen him before and knows what he's going to face. I've only ever heard descriptions of him, and they were more than enough for me.

But... we have to go with him. He can't do it on his own, and the three of us have been through too much together to let each other down now.

I shake my head, trying to drive the fear out of me. There's no point in worrying about it now. It's like what Hagrid said once - 'What's comin' will come, an' we'll meet it when it does.'

I stretch and look at my clock. It's half past midnight. I'm not too tired yet. I think I'll read for an hour, and then go to bed. After tomorrow I won't have much time to study, what with one thing or another. And I want to keep up with my education. I know I'm not going back to school this year, but I can teach myself things to a certain extent, and then maybe go back to school to do my N.E.W.Ts when... if... the war ends.

I pick up the Standard Book of Spells Grade 7, and start to read.

And it really does take my mind off of things. Reading always has this effect on me. I escape into the realm of knowledge, my nervousness being driven out of my body as I focus only on the facts written in front of me. I start to feel almost relaxed...

Until I hear a small popping noise behind me.

My head shoots up in confusion, but before I can register what's going on I feel myself being lifted up bodily from my chair by what feels like an invisible pair of hands, before being slammed against the wall next to my desk. Small stars burst in front of my eyes and I feel pain in every bone in my body, and the invisible hands which hold me in place are replaced by a pair that are only too real. They're large, and strong. A man's hands. I feel his entire body being pressed against mine, pushing me into the wall, and his breathing on the back of my neck.

'Well met, Mudblood.'

Shit! I recognise that voice. Drawling, quiet, refined. So much like his son's but deeper, older.

He must have been one of the six that escaped from Azkaban.

I instinctively try to struggle against him, but his grip on me is so strong I can barely move.

'Don't be a fool, girl,' he whispers in my ear, his voice sounding amused. 'Who do you think would win in a fight between a schoolgirl and a Death-Eater?'

Oh God, how the hell am I going to get out of this?

Keep calm, Hermione. That's your best defence.

I can't keep calm. It's like there's a tornado of thoughts whirling through my head.

My wand is on my desk,

My head hurts,

I'm so scared that tears are starting in my eyes,

I won't cry in front of him. I won't be weak.

I can't breathe with the weight of him pressing me to the wall,

My parents are sleeping in the next room-

I feel a wand being pressed into my ribs.

'That's right, Miss Granger. Do as you're told and you need not get hurt.'

I breathe deeply and try to gulp down the tears of fear that are threatening to leak out on to my cheeks.

'What do you want?' I whisper.

'That's for me to know and for you to find out, Mudblood,' he murmurs in my ear.

I can't think. I'm so scared I can't think. All I know is that I can't move; he's pressing me so hard against the wall I feel as if my bones are breaking, and if I even try to struggle he'll curse me.

My wand is on my desk... I can see it, it's that close to me... If I could...

But he gets there before me. I see one of his hands reach for my wand, and pick it up.

'You won't be needing this, I don't think.'

He closes his hand around my wand and snaps it effortlessly. I watch in horror as he lets the broken pieces of wood fall to the floor.

It's alright, I say to myself, It's just a wand. I can still get out of this, if I can just keep my nerve...

'Now,' he whispers. 'If you would give me your hand, Miss Granger, we can be on our way-'

I hear the door to my parents' bedroom creak open. The body pressing down on mine tenses.

There's a tentative knock at my door.

Oh, no...

'Hermione?'

Mum's voice.

The intruder steps back from me and turns me around, pinning me back to the wall by my throat, and for the first time since he entered my room I can see him.

I look up into the pale, pointed face of Lucius Malfoy. It's been a year since I last saw him, in the Department of Mysteries, but it seems that Azkaban has not changed him. Harry told me that place changes people's looks beyond recognition. Sirius had been a handsome, healthy man until he went in there. But then, the Dementors had deserted Azkaban by the time Lucius was imprisoned. He has some new, deep grooves in each of his cheeks, but this is the only difference I notice in him. His eyes are set in cold, hard hatred, but his mouth wears a small, superior sneer. It's an expression I so often saw on his son's face, but Draco never scared me like his father does...

'Hermione?' Mum's worried; I can hear it in her voice. 'What's going on?'

The door handle moves downwards, but the door itself won't open...

Oh God, why did I lock myself in earlier?

Be glad that you did. Do you think she'll last one second if she sets foot in this room?

'Your hand, Miss Granger,' Lucius repeats, holding out his free hand to me. 'Or I shall force you to watch your filthy mother suffer torments... indescribable.'

'Hermione, what's the matter, whose voice is that?'

Mum's getting a bit hysterical. The door handle is moving frantically up and down.

I look up at Lucius, wondering why he doesn't force me to Apparate with him. Then it occurs to me that side-along Apparation might not be possible without some degree of permission from the person you are taking with you.

'Hermione!'

She'll wake up Dad any minute and get him to break down the door.

I don't have any choice. I hold out my hand for him. He grabs hold of it, and I feel the familiar sensation of Apparation. I'm squeezing through a tiny space, and the air is pressing down on me, so hard I can't breathe...

The next thing I know I'm in a place so dark I can't see him next to me. The only thing giving away his presence is the hand closed tightly around my wrist. If I can get away from him he won't find me easily.

'Lumos!'

As he mutters the incantation his grip relaxes, just a little. I struggle against it, twisting and pulling as he tightens his grip once more. The light provided by his wand illuminates the area. There are trees everywhere around us. I could get lost among them, easily. I bring his hand up to my mouth and sink my teeth into his fingers. His fingers loosen and I manage to pull away, but my foot slips and I fall to my side.

He's laughing at me.

I scramble up onto my feet and begin to run. I don't care where I go; I've just got to get away from him. I get about five steps forward, but then I feel an invisible hook pull me back by the shoulders, and before I know where I am my feet are planted to the floor and I am standing immobile, no matter how hard I try to move. He steps in front of me, his face furious.

'I don't think so, Mudblood,' he says, before pressing his wand to my forehead.

I feel a white hot pain pulse in repeated waves from the point of his wand right through to the back of my head. Every time the pain subsides a new wave of agony begins. I clench my teeth and squeeze my eyes shut against the torture, but I can't stop the cry that escapes my lips. Oh god, it's unbearable! My head is going to split open, or burst, or-

And then the pain is gone as suddenly as it began. All that remains is a dull ache in my forehead.

I open my eyes warily and look up into his sneering face.

'That hurt, didn't it Mudblood?' he says while grabbing me by the chin, bringing his face close to mine. I can feel the immobility curse being lifted, though his free hand grasps my arm so tightly I feel as if he's about to snap my bones. 'If you persist in misbehaving you shall find that I can be rather... inventive when it comes to inflicting pain-'

'As if it matters whether I behave or not!' I hiss at him, anger surging through me like a wave of nausea. How dare he treat me this way when I haven't ever done anything to him! 'As if you're not going to kill me anyway! Why should I do as you say until then? I'm not about to take orders from a Death-Eater!'

His grip on my chin tightens, and he brings my face closer to his, 'It is time you learnt your place in the world, girl,' he says, his voice very quiet. 'We all must obey those who are above us-'

'You're not above me-'

'And you will do as I say.' He carries on as if I never interrupted him, though he's raised his voice slightly. 'Because you are worth less than the dirt on my boots. You are a waste of air.' He pauses for effect, and locks his gaze onto mine. 'You are nothing!'

His words feel like a punch in the stomach, but I won't let him win.

'And you're worth something are you?' I ask him. I try to keep my voice strong, but it's hard when I'm shaking with rage and fear. 'You think you're so superior because you're pure blood. It's pathetic!'

His whole face is darkening with anger, but I can't stop myself.

'Do you expect me to cower at your knees and think of you as a powerful man?' I'm trying to sound scornful, which is no easy task when you're facing a fully grown, powerful Death-Eater who has you quite literally in his grasp. 'Well, I can see you for what you are; and all I see is an inbred, bigoted coward.'

He gives a small, mirthless laugh before bringing his wand to my cheek. I feel a sharp, burning pain streak across my face, but I don't cry out this time. It's only a sting, really, and it's over quickly. I think it's the magical equivalent of a slap on the face.

'Have you never, in all of your worthless life, been taught to respect your betters?' he whispers, his features harsh with fury.

It's my turn to laugh. I laugh right in his face before spitting in it.

I'm acting braver than I feel, and as I see the look of rage and disgust on his face, I realise that perhaps I didn't think that one through...

Oh God, I've really done it now!

He lets go of my arm to wipe the spittle away from his face, keeping hold of my chin as he does so. I take my chance and wrench myself out of his grasp, but before I can even begin to run he's got hold of me by the arm again. He pulls me close to him, pointing his wand at my throat. His face is so close to mine I can see that he's actually shaking with rage.

'I don't believe you quite understood me, girl.' It seems that the angrier he gets, the quieter his voice becomes. 'I said I wanted obedience, and for you to know your place. And when I want something, Mudblood, I do make sure that I get it.'

That's when I feel my throat close up. I try to breathe, but my windpipe is completely blocked.

O God, oh God...

I frantically try to inhale some air, but all I'm doing is heaving pointlessly because there's nothing I can do. My lungs scream for oxygen, my chest feels like it's collapsing, and I go so light-headed that I can't stand up, and I'm falling and please don't let me die! I'm desperately, desperately trying to breathe-

And then my airways open and my lungs are filled so quickly with wonderful, cold air that I begin to cough violently, all the while trying to fill my body with as much oxygen as possible. I cough until my chest hurts and my eyes stream. I'm in such a state that I don't care that I'm kneeling at his feet, clinging to the front of his robes to support me as I gasp for air.

Kneeling at his feet. One of the things you just swore you'd never do...

He waits until my coughing subsides before kicking out at me. He catches me in the chest and I fall onto my side. I lie there massaging my ribs, and the tears that I have been fighting so hard against slowly begin to run down my cheeks as I breathe deeply.

You heartless bastard!

'Let that be a lesson to you, you useless Muggle,' he says quietly. 'I do not take disrespect lightly. Especially coming from a filthy Mudblood such as yourself. Now get up.' He gives me a small kick in the back, like I'm a dog that won't move when he tells it to. 'I don't deny that crawling on the floor with vermin suits you, but we have an appointment to keep, and we don't want to keep our host waiting. So... if I'm not rushing you...'

I lie still, my mind going into over-drive. He's taking me to someone. Just him on his own is bad enough, but I don't want to face who-knows how many Death-Eaters.

Or even... he couldn't be taking me to... I don't want to see... him...

'Still insisting on rebellion are we? Very well-'

I feel the invisible pair of hands pulling me up again and setting me on my feet, before he places an immobilisation curse on me once more.

'Do you believe that what you have experienced so far even comes close to the pain I could inflict upon you?' He walks slowly around me, his voice pulsing with anger. 'You will learn obedience, you little Muggle bitch, or you will discover that I can become rather... ill-tempered when provoked.' He stops behind me, and lifts up my hair to whisper in my ear. 'Believe me when I tell you, Miss Granger, that by the end of our... time together you will want to obey me. Want to.'

I'll obey you when hell freezes over, you evil-

I feel the immobility curse being lifted and I fall to the ground. Startled at my own weakness, I try to pull myself to my feet, and I realise that I can't. All of my body has gone entirely limp, and I can't move a single muscle.

He crouches down next to me, and pulls one of my arms up and around his neck, before picking me up in his arms. Revolted at him being so close to me, I try to struggle out of his arms.

But I can't.

All of my body is heavy and lifeless.

I've never felt so... helpless in my entire life.

He begins to walk through the forest, carrying me with him. My head falls back uncomfortably, and I can't move it forward.

Right now, though, what's happened to my body is the last thing on my mind. All I can think about is where we're going, and who we're going to see.

I don't want to see the Death-Eaters. I've seen them enough times to last me a life-time. The memories of that night at the Ministry still terrify me. I can remember that Lestrange woman, threatening to torture Ginny. It wasn't the threat itself that frightened me the most, though. It was the way she seemed so... excited as she threatened a fifteen year old girl. There was an inhuman light of joy in her eyes at the prospect.

And then there was Dolohov, the man who hit me with that silent, painful curse. I can still remember the feeling, as if something had sliced through my chest and then... nothing but blackness. My ribs were bruised for weeks afterwards.

And there are others. MacNair, the man that used to kill animals for the Ministry; Greyback, who mutilated Bill. Harry told me that Greyback relishes turning people into werewolves.

And Draco... would Draco be with them?

But all I can hope for is that he won't be taking me to... him. I've never seen him before, and I want to keep it that way. The way that Harry described him was enough to give me nightmares; I don't know whether I can handle actually seeing him...

In what seems like no time at all, we arrive outside a derelict old shack in a part of the woods so dense that I cannot see the sky. He puts me down on the floor. My head rolls lifelessly to the side, and I see him pull a long, thin, silver key out of his robes, which he uses to unlock the door to the hut. The door clicks open, and he bends down to pick me up again and carries me into the shack.

As we enter the house I look around as far as I can without the ability to move my head. The interior of the place looks like I would expect it to look from the outside of it; neglected, filthy and dark. He lays me on the floor again, and this time my head rolls away from him and I can't see what he's doing. He hasn't said a word to me since he began to carry me.

Why has he bought me here? What would they need me for? To give information about the order? Information on Harry? Do they just want to punish me for being Muggle born? Or do they want to use me to get to my friends? I don't know how these people's minds work; do they kill for business or for pleasure?

He's taking his time in here. I wish I could see what he's doing.

What are my parents going to do, when they finally get into my room and they see that I'm gone? I can't bear the thought of how upset they'll be, and how frightened...

They'll contact the Order. I told them that they should let the Order know if I go missing before they inform the police. I've taught them how to use an owl to contact them in case of an emergency. The Order will find me, they'll save me-

How? You don't even know where you are, how are they going to know where to find you?

The sick, empty sensation of hopelessness washes over me.

A noise fills the room. It sounds like stone grinding against stone. When it stops he walks over to lift me up again, and carries me down what seems to be a large stone staircase going down into the floor. I'm sure it wasn't there when we first came in. As we go down these stone stairs, our way illuminated by the light coming from his wand, the hole we entered through closes in above us, and I realise that wherever we're going I'm not going to be able to escape easily.

The steps lead us down to what seems to be a long, narrow cave. He carries me down this passage for a long while. He doesn't say anything. I don't know how I feel about this. I don't want him to talk to me, and even if I did I don't think I'd be able to answer him in my current state.

But still... the silence has given me too much time to think about what's going to happen to me.

There's nothing I can do to save myself. I'm completely alone. I've always had Harry, or Ron, or somebody with me whenever I've been in danger...

Harry and Ron. What are they going to do when I don't turn up at the Burrow tomorrow?

Oh God, Bill and Fleur's wedding. It'll be ruined!

We come to what looks like a dead end, and he sets me down on the cold, damp floor. My head rolls to the side and I can see him. He shakes back his sleeve and I can see the Dark Mark on his arm. He presses that part of his skin to the wall of the tunnel, and the dead end melts away to reveal the way ahead. He picks me up again and carries me through the passageway, and I hear rather than see the way close up again behind us.

I'm completely and utterly trapped.

A lone tear escapes from the corner of my eye and rolls down my face.

He lays me down on the floor, my head facing upwards. We must be quite far underground, or under a hill of some kind; the ceiling of this place is very high.

His face moves above mine. It's half in shadow, but I can see the expression of gloating written there as clear as day.

'You know, it is tempting to keep you like this,' he murmurs. He picks up one of my arms and lets it drop again. 'So docile, so obedient.' He moves his face yet closer to mine. 'So completely and utterly submissive.'

Oh God, he wouldn't...?

'However.' His voice is suddenly cool and clipped once again. He stands up and I can't see him anymore, 'I don't want to touch you any more than I have to. It's disgusting that I should have to carry a Mudblood around.'

I'm partly relieved by that statement, but at the same time enraged by it...

It's a peculiar feeling.

He gives me another small kick. 'Get up.'

I feel a shiver go through me. I think... I think I can move again. He must have lifted the curse from me. I slowly pull myself up onto my feet. My legs feel very shaky, and I get a head rush as I stand up fully.

He's standing in front of me, a small, patronising smile on his face. He leans forward and pats me on the cheek as if I'm a child.

'Good girl.'

He steps back and offers me his arm, his eye-brows raised in a mocking challenge.

I just stare back at him. I won't let him toy with me.

'What did I tell you about obedience, Mudblood?'

Don't let him beat you, Hermione.

I take a deep breath, 'You told me that we all have to obey those who are above us. You told me that you are above me, and that I have to do as you say.'

He smiles evilly at me.

'Well, my son always told me you were a know-it-all, but now I realise that you are simply a fast learner-'

'I am only a fast learner of facts,' I say, straightening myself up in an attempt to steel my nerve. 'And what you told me was a lie. So, you see, I won't obey you. I'll die first.'

His cold eyes narrow in anger. He flicks his wand upwards, and I feel my arm being twisted mercilessly up my back. I sink my teeth into my lip to stop myself from yelling in agony.

'You'll die first, will you?' He's standing over me, watching me struggle against the pain. 'I've lost count of the number of fully grown wizards who have told me that they'd die before they'll do as I ask. And believe me when I say that it doesn't take me long to have them screaming for mercy, begging me on their knees to let them live.' He flicks his wand again, and my arm is released. I fall to the ground in sheer relief, and he laughs quietly. 'Something tells me that you won't be any different, Mudblood.'

I lie still for a moment. Perhaps if I just keep quiet, he won't hurt me. Why antagonise him further?

Where's your courage, Hermione? You're a Gryffindor.

I clench my jaw, and begin to push myself up from the ground.

'I'll never give you that satisfaction.' I get up from the floor, and look him straight in the eye. 'You murderous bastard!'

He slaps me hard across the face with the back of his hand. No wands this time. My head snaps back with the blow and I taste blood in my mouth. I rub at my cheek, and when I look back at him I see pure hatred etched all over his face. For a few moments we just look at each other. He's breathing heavily, as if he's been running.

I've never had anyone look at me like that before. Oh, I've had Draco Malfoy and others like him stare at me with hatred, but I've never had someone hate me so much when they didn't know me at all. People have called me Mudblood, but usually I've been disliked primarily for being clever, or bossy, or a friend of Harry's. Being Muggle born is just another insult they can hurl at me. But with Lucius Malfoy, I can see pure hate in his eyes, and it's all because of something I am, not something I've done.

Well, the feeling is entirely reciprocated. I hate him. I hate him for what he has done, and I hate him for what he is; a prejudiced, unfeeling sadist.

Gradually, he seems to regain his control. His breathing slows and his face grows calm once more.

'It seems strange to me, that you have not asked me where we are,' he says, his voice quietly controlled. 'Are you not curious about where I have brought you?'

He grips me by the shoulders and turns me around, showing me where we are.

We are in some kind of... well, a great hall would be the best way to describe it. The walls are made of black stone and lined with flaming green torches. There are pillars with stone serpents entwining them all along the walls. And at the head of the hall is an empty throne with a huge stone snake rearing up behind it.

What the hell...?

I can see a couple of people moving along the hall towards us. People in black robes.

My stomach knots with fear, and I start shaking uncontrollably.

'You are fortunate that our host appears to be otherwise engaged,' Lucius murmurs in my ear. 'Were he here I am sure he would be only too pleased to teach you a few lessons in respect and obedience. But don't fret, little Mudblood. Tomorrow, you will come back here and meet him, and I'm sure you shall find him most... accommodating.'

I must be in the Death-Eaters' headquarters.

And although I don't know why I've been brought here, or what they are going to do to me, or who I am going to see, one thing is clear...

I'm never going to get out of this place!

The dark figures are getting closer. One of them calls over to us. His voice is deep, with a slight Russian accent;

'He's not here Lucius, but he wants to see her when he gets back. He says to put her away for now.'

He? Who? Not... no... I CAN'T FACE... HIM!!!

Lucius' hands have left my shoulders-

'Stupefy!'

I feel the rush of the spell before it hits me, and then...

Darkness.