Agent Granger, CIA

CHAPTER VII

"Deletrix"

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Hermione shifted slightly under her covers. Her alarm was annoyingly loud when she was aware of it, but right now it flowed into her dream like a metronome playing along with the orchestra.

She was sitting in front of a block of C-4, trying to disable it, but her mind was fuzzy and the constant beep that was reminding her that time was running out was no help. She kept thinking about things that have been bothering her lately, okay, one thing: Draco Malfoy.

The little red counter kept ticking down, 20, 19, 18. Her eyes watched somewhat fascinated as the little digital light rotated its positions on the block. She couldn't decide whether or not Draco should be trusted. It was true, he had been of a help to her, but he's never actually told her why he was being nice, or if he even had a reason. She sighed. The bomb was down to 10 now. Red or blue, Hermione, she told herself. Fifty, fifty. 3. 2. She clicked the pliers in her hands and a loud BEEP shot through her ears.

Her brown eyes flashed open and she jumped up in her bed, sweating profusely. She groaned as her head spun from the sudden movement, she felt like she had just gotten off a carousel going at 15 mph. Gently, she laid back down and stared at the clock. 7:00 AM.

The Masochist report would be due in 30 minutes, and Jordan hated being late. She sighed. At least her alarm wasn't counting down to an explosive encore. For Jordan, she told herself, get out of bed and write the report. Her back ached now and her legs refused to be exposed to the icy temperature outside of the fluffy blanket.

Indeed, getting out of bed is one of the hardest things that we experience habitually. She pulled on a robe and lazily walked to the bathroom, dragging her feet whenever possible. Her reflection in the mirror looked like Cruella DeVil, but after a couple sweeps with her brush, she looked more like a poodle dog. Oh well, we can't be perfect. She slapped some minty toothpaste onto her electronic toothbrush and turned it on.

**

Draco didn't dream that night. He always had dreams, and could usually write a review over each and every single one of them after he woke up, but today, there was nothing to criticize. He frowned and rubbed his head. It was 7:20, he could shower before meeting up with Hermione.

He turned on the faucet, his eyelids still partly glued together, and was ready to yawn, but an unexpected jet of freezing water jabbed his bare back and sent him yelping and jumping out of the shower. Oh yeah, he was wide awake now.

Draco leaned over, with his hands on his legs, like he had just run a ten mile marathon. He'd never felt water so cold, especially since he had turned the knob to the edge of "HOT". He cautiously swiped his hand through the water, as if trying to avoid getting wet. It was still cold.

He examined his hand carefully, turning it over and over again, studying its shape and texture as if he had never seen it before. It's not me, he thought to himself. He looked at the shower again, which was steaming, a pretty good sign that it was hot now. Draco sighed and shook his head, people really can't depend on technology anymore.

He didn't think to test the water again before jumping in, and like a cat who received an unfortunate surprise, all his hairs shot straight up and he hopped out of the water, his teeth chattering as if he were in Antarctica.

The water had to be hot, even the mirror in the changing room was fogging up now, but why couldn't he feel it? He pulled his clothes back on and ran downstairs to fetch the first aid kit. Thrusting the electronic thermometer into his mouth the moment he found it, he didn't remember to put the plastic covering over it.

Beep-beep-beep-beep! The temperature read: 98.8. Okay...that's normal, Draco thought. He didn't feel especially hot or cold either, he felt normal. Stumped by the situation, he decided that he'd ask Hermione.

**

Draco waited patiently inside his old home for Hermione to arrive. He checked his watch. 7:50 AM. Sometime now, she'd be arriving. He wandered into his childhood bedroom and bounced playfully on the mattress (which seemed much smaller than he remembered it to be). The dusty green curtains were closed over the window; his father didn't like having sunlight dancing all over the house, he once muttered something about shadow demons, but Draco didn't really care for reasons back then, he just did what his father told him to do.

But now he gladly took hold of the two pieces of cloth and swung them open (not as easily or gracefully as it appears in movies). A suffocating layer of dust covered him from head to toe, making him look like he had feathers. He shook it off of him like a dog would with water and then proceeded to hack the rest out of his mouth. Blah, never doing that again, he told himself. Patting his clothes to make sure most of the dust had fallen out, he returned to the entrance hall where Hermione would be.

And there she was, exploring his house like it was a museum.

"Morning," he called. She started and turned around to face him.

"How'd you know that I was here?" she asked, unaware that they already had this conversation once.

"I'm from the future," Draco replied cleverly, knowing that she'd think that he was kidding. Hermione chuckled, simply to amuse him and said that he should stop stalking her. Draco shrugged and claimed that he couldn't help it. Then she made her move, reaching out her arm for his tie; Draco grinned and caught her arm before it landed on him, and turned it over to reveal the tracking device that she was about to plant. "Proof enough that I'm from the future?" he said with a sly smiled painted on his face.

Hermione frowned and snapped her arm back. "You were just lucky," she said.

"Fine. Don't believe me," Draco replied nonchalantly. "But since you found the hideout before anyway, I'll be fair and show it to you now...that is if you trust me enough to come with me..."

Hermione felt something in her gut scream "TRAP", but her heart was curious and wanted to go, even if Draco had something nasty planned for her. She took his outstretched hand and he disapparated them both.

Hermione shivered when they arrived at a beautiful destination guarded by dreamy mountains covered with snow. But there was no house. Draco took note of her chattering teeth and marching feet. He took off his coat and wrapped it around her, and was not a bit surprised that it still felt like a spring day to him. She eyed him suspiciously.

"You're cold. I'm not. I have a warm jacket. You don't. End of story," he quickly explained before the fight erupted. Hermione tried to suppress a smile and thanked him. Draco nodded, then explained that she couldn't see the house unless if she cast a revealing spell.

Hermione gasped as a beautiful, white Victorian mansion appeared before her eyes. "It's beautiful," she whispered, unable to tear her eyes off of it. Draco gave her a few minutes to admire his creation, and then she turned to him again.

"Why are you helping me, Draco?" she asked, more in a friendly way than not.

Draco was going to tell her that he didn't know, but he knew why, and he also knew that she wasn't ready to hear it yet. "I actually need your help Hermione," he replied, part of him surprised that he remembered to ask her.

Hermione braced herself for a ridiculous request; she had expected something like this from him anyway. "What is it?" she asked.

Draco swallowed the saliva building in his mouth and nervously rubbed the back of his neck. He kept in mind that he couldn't tell her of the things he'd done to save Jordan and change past events. He looked up and found her watching him with her round eyes. "I..." he began, but stopped. What was he going to tell her? That he tried to take a hot shower this morning but didn't because the boiler was broken? "Are you any good with water pipes and boilers?" he asked finally, crossing his arms out of a nervous habit.

Hermione made an effort not to laugh. "What?" she said, now smiling. "You want my help with your water supply?"

Draco nodded. "Yep."

Hermione narrowed her eyebrows suspiciously and shook her head. "I don't know what you're up to Malfoy..."

Draco took her by the crook of the arm and dragged her into the house. "Just follow me, and be quiet, Ron's not up yet."

Hermione involuntarily skidded through the front doors and up the stairs. Draco finally let her go once they entered the bathroom. He shut the door behind them, but didn't lock it, in case if she'd gotten the wrong idea. He pointed to the shower stall and motioned for her to turn on the water.

"Put it to HOT and tell me if hot water comes out."

Hermione looked at him like you would if someone told you that. She sighed and obeyed, happy that he didn't drag her in here for other reasons. The water came on, and a minute later, it began warming up.

"Seems fine to me," she reported, sounding much like a meteorologist.

Draco frowned. "It's warm right now?"

Hermione nodded. He strode over to her and put his hand in the water too, immediately retreating it. It was still cold to him...Draco turned his back to Hermione as panic flooded him.

"You can't feel it can you?" she asked. Draco looked over his shoulder and shook his head. Hermione turned him back around and studied his face. "What have you been doing lately?" she asked, one hand gently feeling his jaw and neck while the other shut off the water.

"I can't tell you," he replied, sounding rather foolish. His examiner glared at him with disapproval, but he again insisted that he couldn't tell her.

"Fine. What other symptoms have you had?" she continued.

"Well. I didn't dream..."

"Draco, not everyone dreams every night," she said impatiently.

"I do. Or at least I did."

"And yesterday was the first night when you didn't dream?" she interrogated. He nodded. "And this morning was the first time that you noticed you weren't able to feel hot water?" Draco nodded again.

"Did you do anything after you came home yesterday night?"

Draco looked around the room. "I can't tell you," he sighed.

"Draco, I don't care if you picked up a random chick off the street and brought her home! Just tell me what you did last night."

He frowned. "I wouldn't do that," he told her, as if he were teaching her the Ten Commandments. "And I really cannot tell you what I did or didn't do yesterday."

Hermione sighed and gave up. "Fine. Then I can't help you."

"Wait. I have an idea. I can't tell you, but there may be a way that I can show you..."

"How?"

Draco scratched the back of his head. "We'll need the Masochist."

Hermione thought for a while, was he trying to use her to get into the prison again? Maybe to save Whitehorn? She shook her wet hands of the water on it.

"I'll get a towel," Draco offered, running off into the next room. Hermione absently mindedly stuck her hands into the coat pockets (something she did whenever she was left alone). Her right hand dampened something tucked inside the pocket, she pulled it out to inspect the damages. It was a little envelope; one that she had seen before, one identical to what Cardon had. She opened it and read the note.

Chist~ I'm going to visit your tent tonight. Pretend you don't know me...and whatever happens to you, trust that I'll get you out. Reply with your signature. -Malfoy

There was a scribbled line at the bottom of the paper, which she guessed was the Masochist's name. So this is what he was playing at. He and the Masochist were on the same team all along. She knew it was too good to be true. Draco returned with a towel in his hand, but he dropped it once he saw what was in her hands.

Originally, the night he returned home from helping Hermione, he had put the envelope inside his drawer, but the time goddess must have returned him to right after he entered his room...and before he emptied his pockets. He waited for her to say something, but she was waiting for him to explain.

"That's not what it looks like--" he began, walking towards her.

"Oh really?" Hermione spat back. "Then what is it Malfoy? You were using the Masochist to try and get on my good side. Well guess what? That plan just completely backfired!" She was screaming by now. Draco tried to hush her, keeping in mind that if Ron saw the two of them in the showers together, he'd probably blow a fuse.

"Hermione. You figure this out later on anyway. Except I tell you. And you were pretty okay with it then..."

"Would you cut the crap Malfoy? You're not from the future, okay?! I don't know who drugged you or whatever, but that doesn't excuse this!" She waved the note wildly in the air.

"Hermione! If you would just get me to the Masochist, things will be explained!" he said through clenched teeth.

Hermione shook her head. "No. There's no way."

Draco growled and grabbed her wrists. "Listen to me," he threatened. "I put myself in danger for you. The least you can do is trust me."

Hermione winced as his grip tightened. "Draco...let...me...go!" she cried. He released her, as if he wasn't aware that he was hurting her. Hermione rubbed her wrists and glared at him. "Ask me again why I don't trust you," she scowled.

Draco blinked, his eyes filled with terror at what he had done. He didn't even mean for anything to happen...it was like something had taken over him. "Hermione..."

"Stay away from me, Malfoy," she warned. "And you better not follow me." She disapparated just as Ron opened the door.

"Are you okay Draco?" he asked. "I thought I heard screaming."

Draco felt like someone had just dug a piece of his heart out with a spoon. He fell to his knees and glared at his hands, accusing them of what they just did. Ron walked over to him and knelt down beside him.

"Draco, are you okay?" he asked again.

Draco shook his head and buried himself inside his arms. "There's something wrong with me, Ron. Something happened to me..."

Ron watched bewildered as his friend rocked himself into tears.

**

Jordan was stuffing another handful of calorie filled potato chips into his mouth when Hermione apparated into the office.

"Welcome back," he said after he swallowed his food. "I was worried that you might have taken our little spat this morning a bit too seriously." He smiled and stood up.

Hermione heaved a long sigh and plunged into her chair. Jordan leaned over her desk, inspecting her arms.

"What happened?" he asked, placing one of her wrists onto his palm. The redness took the shape of a handprint. Hermione shook her head and pulled her arm back. Jordan summoned a pack of ice and covered the injured areas with it.

"Keep that there," he instructed, piling the bag of ice nicely on her wrists like a pyramid. "Whitehorn is scheduled to be set free today, since we don't have any real evidence of his crimes," he reported. "Especially after Frome had his memory wiped..." Hermione sighed.

"Whitehorn isn't the problem right now," she replied. "Just make sure that Masochist says here."

Jordan raised an interested eye. "Why?"

"Because Malfoy is determined to get him out."

Her partner laughed and immediately bit his tongue in response to her glare. "You can't keep someone in here simply to spite him," he reasoned.

"Malfoy played me! He set the Masochist up for us to hunt!"

Jordan frowned. "He was always an evil bastard. Are you really that surprised?"

Hermione pouted. She didn't know why, but she was disappointed. "I just thought that maybe he had changed."

Jordan scoffed. "Don't count on it."

**

Draco waited til he sensed Hermione leave the office before he apparated in. Jordan greeted him with a glare. Draco wanted to tell him off since he was alive only because him, but knew he couldn't.

"Jordan, I need you to talk to Hermione," he said.

The other man gave him a questioning look and asked why.

"I need her help."

"What for?"

"Something personal."

Jordan laughed mirthlessly and advanced on Draco. "I'm guessing that you are responsible for what happened to her earlier?"

"I didn't mean to," Draco replied, truly apologetic. Jordan took note of it.

"Then why did you?"

Draco hesitated. He didn't want to tell Jordan about his personal problems! But if he was going to get him to help, he'd have to. He explained his symptoms to him and waited for a response.

Jordan rested his head on his palm while he thought about Draco's dilemma. After a while, he told him to take off his shirt. Draco straight out refused. Jordan then said that if he didn't take off his shirt, he wasn't going to talk to Hermione. Then, reluctantly, Draco undressed. Jordan walked behind and cried out victoriously.

"What?" Draco asked suspiciously.

"There's something here," Jordan said, leaning close to a black shadow clinging on Draco's right shoulder blade.

"What is it?!"

Jordan stood up straight. "How the hell am I supposed to know? But I have a good idea where you got it. And if what I'm guessing is right, then you've been a bad boy."

Draco scowled and pulled his shirt back on. "What do you know?"

"That's a spirit demon, Draco," Jordan informed. "I don't know which one, but it is the spirit of a dangerous and powerful demon that is supposed to be dead and locked in hell. It moves from our plane once it dies. It only exists in a world so dark and complex that if one of us were to enter it, it would be...well...nothing, to us, simply because we cannot comprehend it."

Draco knew exactly what Jordan was talking about, but pretending to be utterly confused. "What? Well, let's say that I stumbled into such a world...how did it follow me out?" Then he quickly added, "We're just theorizing here-I'm not saying that I did-."

Jordan nodded his head like he believed him. "You'd have to have a pretty dark soul to be able to conjure up the portal needed to enter that world, Draco. The World of Oblivion is meant to be a jail cell for those who deserve worse than hell, to simply survive and remain sane inside that universe is well...impossible for a human." Jordan kept eyeing Draco, checking to see how he was responding to every new piece of information. Draco hid his true feelings well, but Jordan could still read a hint of panic in the twitch of his lower lip.

"If you stay in there for too long, let's say over a day, you'll begin to be exposed to the beings in the plane. You won't see them, of course, because you're still equipped with the same simple minded brain you entered with, but something in you changes, something that recognizes them and lets them recognize you...and the demons feed on your humanity. The one on your back is probably a weaker demon. Since you more than likely picked up something from the surface of the planet...the worst ones, like Voldemort, would be locked away in the core...where virtually nothing can reach it."

Draco looked up and found Jordan's careful blue eyes scanning him. "How do I get it off?" he whispered.

"I don't know," Jordan sighed. "You'd have to identify the demon first, to begin. So that you at least know what you're dealing with." He sighed again, this time with much more frustration. "What were you doing, Draco? What were you thinking? Performing magic that dark? Surely you've heard of the consequences?" Jordan gave up on playing along with Draco's innocent act.

Draco matched his sigh and shook his head. "Jordan. You of all people should not question my motives for what I did."

Jordan sat silently, he understood the rules of hell dimensions; whatever happened there stayed there, if Draco told him anything, he'd probably combust into flames. "Alright," he said at last. "There's one way that we can identify the demon." He sighed softly, wondering if this was a good idea or not. "Come with me."

**

Draco sat inside the waiting room while Jordan went off to fetch someone. He wished he had a mirror, that way he could see what was living on him. He was about to take his shirt off again when Jordan returned with a prisoner in his custody.

He pulled the bag off of the inmate's head to reveal the Masochist. The demon seemed happy to see Draco at first, but after he actually looked at him, he ran to hide behind Jordan. "What is it?" Jordan asked.

"That's not--Draco's been...infected," the demon stuttered.

"That's what I thought," said Jordan, rubbing the back of his neck. "See, Draco, the Masochist is a demon. And being a demon, he can sense things and identify other demons much easier than we can. I hoped that we'd have to show him your pet before he could recognize anything, but I'm afraid it's too late."

The Masochist nodded his head. "Too late," he repeated, now clinging onto Jordan's back.

"What do you mean 'too late'?" asked Draco, trying to keep a calm temper.

"Don't anger him!" the Masochist cried frantically into Jordan's ear.

"Draco, the demon seems to be slowly taking control of you. Your violent outbreaks are probably caused by him. If he hadn't dug too deep, we could have maybe just burned him off, but now that he's entered you, we can't hurt him without hurting you."

Draco listened silently. His shoulders were so tense now that they looked like hills next to his neck. "Chist, can you tell me what demon it is?"

The Masochist whimpered, hoping he would never be asked that question. "I mustn't speak his name," he said with a trembling voice.

Draco scowled and made to beat his face in, but the little demon cried out, "Deletrix! It's Deletrix!"

He cowered in a far corner of the waiting room, as if expecting himself to be decapitated. Draco smirked. "Don't worry, Chist. I got him under control." Then he muttered, "For now at least."

Jordan nodded his head as he would when something's been solved. "Alright, demon, back to your cell."

"Wait, Jordan," said Draco. "I think he's proven himself not-evil, why don't you let him go?"

Jordan shook his head. "Sorry, man. We can't trust him to roam the streets with the powers that he has."

Draco sighed in deep thought. Then the Masochist said, "It's alright, Draco. If that thing takes over you, I'd rather be in a cell anyway."

Draco glared at him and muttered a sarcastic thanks.

**

Jordan invited Draco to have a drink with him before he left. They both sat in Hermione's office with a bottle of beer and a gloomy face.

"So how's the werewolf potion going?" Jordan asked, searching for something to take their minds off of the doom that was coming.

Draco hadn't thought about the potion for so long, and he was surprised that Jordan even knew anything about it. "The potions are a disaster, in my mind. Ron is a complete nutcase. We've tried everything! And we're so close, we just can't figure out how to keep the brain waves functioning like a human's!"

Jordan nodded his head understandingly. "Have you tried adding Ron's blood when he's not a werewolf?"

"Yes," Draco replied. "Though I don't know if he took that potion yet...we have a lot of them lined up for testing."

"Maybe he accidentally gave that one to Cardon...which would make it ineffective because the potion needs the blood of the werewolf taking it."

Draco nodded his head slowly, then exclaimed happily, "That could be it!"

Jordan smiled and they clinked their bottles. Then Hermione popped in. Jordan turned in his chair and waved. "Hiya 'mione!" he greeted.

Hermione frowned as her eyes fell onto Draco. "What's he doing here?" she asked, as if Jordan was a kid and had smeared mud all over the carpet floor.

Draco stood up and put his empty bottle on the table. "I was getting ready to go," he muttered, but Jordan stood up with him and grabbed his shoulder, firmly shaking his head.

"Hermione, I think we should help Draco."

Hermione's jaw dropped and she choked her hips with her hands. "Why?"

"He needs help, Hermione," said Jordan, looking at her with every degree of seriousness.

"No," she replied. "If he needed help, he could have just been straight about it. I don't trust him."

"Well, I do," said Jordan, now feeling a bit annoyed.

"Jordan! That is Draco Malfoy! You said so yourself that he's an evil bastard!"

Jordan cut her off, "Well, now, he literally will become an evil bastard if we don't help him! There's a demon spirit parasite on him!"

That shut her up. She glared at Malfoy then demanded that he take off his shirt. Draco sighed, if only he got one galleon for every time someone request him to strip. He turned his back towards her, refusing to show her more than she needed to see and took off his shirt. Hermione gasped at the bulging black creature on his shoulder blade. Jordan, curious if the shadow had changed, went to look.

"Merlin's beard," he whispered. "This thing is growing faster by the second."

Hermione put her hand on it, sending Jordan into terrified screams. "What?!" Hermione cried, bewildered by his outbreak.

"Don't just touch it!" Jordan cried back. "What if it gets on you?!"

"Don't be silly," Hermione laughed. "It's a spirit demon, don't you know anything about them? They latch onto one victim, and cannot move onto another until it has completely drained its first source."

Draco's face went pale. "It's going to drain me?" he whimpered.

"Yup. Till you are nothing but skin on bones."

Jordan frowned at Hermione, who was smiling victoriously.

"Alright, that's it. Show's over." Draco pulled his shirt back on and buttoned it. "I'm leaving."

"Draco, wait. I was just kidding," Hermione sighed. "I've read about spirit demons before. If you tell me what the demon is, I can probably pull out some old books and help you get rid of it."

Draco looked at the determination on her face and was suddenly confident that everything would be okay. He nodded his head. "Alright. The demon goes by Deletrix, or at least that's why the Masochist said."

Hermione glared at Jordan, who smiled feebly and shrugged. "You saw the Masochist?"

Draco nodded innocently. "Hermione. I wasn't trying to break him out. I really needed to show you something that only he could help out with."

Hermione shifted her weight onto her left and hung herself in a slanted posture. She looked at Jordan for advice. He shrugged again and gave her a sideways smile. "I think you should go. Draco's not going to do anything stupid," he told her.

Hermione sighed and threw her hands up in the air. "Fine, fine. We'll go."

Jordan smiled. "Well, you two go. I don't want to be a third wheel or anything. I can stay behind and research Deletrix. He sounds like a pretty cool demon."

Hermione glared at him, daring him to continue, but Jordan never caved into her threats. He nodded his head confidently, telling her to go. She huffed at him and then they left.

**

The Masochist seemed wary to be dragged out of his prison again. He looked worriedly up at Draco, this time containing his fear of Deletrix much better. Draco instructed for the other two to create a triangle with him. They linked hands and Draco bowed his head.

"Chist, I need you to take some of my memories, but don't eat them...transfer them to Hermione. Make sure you don't let go of them either, because then I won't be able to remember what happened, just share it. Can you do that?"

The Masochist gave him a bewildered look. "Well...I've never done it before. I could try..."

Draco nodded. "Alright. Transfer what I focus on."

A moment of strained silence passed, Hermione watched as Draco's face turned red from concentrating so hard. The Masochist wore an expression of amazement as he saw what Draco transferred to him, then he squeezed her hand, warning her that she was about to flooded with the clips. She bowed her head and closed her eyes.

Receiving someone else's memories was definitely a new experience. She's never seen the clips that were flashing before her mind, but she felt like she was in it, like she was there. The stream of the video wasn't exactly smooth. It was like watching a music video on the MTV website, at moments it would stream perfectly, then it would skip, skid, and stop.

In the first clip, she saw herself find Draco at the Malfoy Mansion, things happened differently than she remembered; for one thing, she successfully attached the tracing device. The memory then switched and she saw herself caught in a trap in front of the house that Draco showed her earlier.

She heard everything and saw everything that happened, but it happened so fast that she didn't really process it, she just understood it. She and Draco then appeared at a park. They talked, she smiled as she saw and heard the story of Draco and Ginny. Who would have thought?

Then, after they finished their experiment, she saw herself leave the park. The next memory was short and choppy. She saw Jordan get shot, then she saw Draco save Jordan and herself. Next, she saw herself asleep on a bed. Draco woke her up and informed her of Jordan's condition. They then proceeded to talk about the past and what had happened. Hermione didn't fully understand what was happening because neither Draco nor her knew of the memories she had recovered during her near death, but she caught the gist of it. Draco also explained about the Masochist and why he set her up to hunt him. She went to sleep. The clip got cut off again as another clip joined it.

This time, she just woke up, and Draco told her that Jordan had died. She gasped in real life, shocked by the news, but in the memories, she appeared rather calm.

Then, out of nowhere, she kissed Draco.

She felt herself blush as she watched the memory.

Draco was sent away after a while, then the clip ended. The Masochist sniggered as he sneaked another memory from Draco without telling him, and fed it to Hermione. She saw Draco appear in front of Ron. He told Ron that he loved her. She gasped again, this time because she couldn't breathe. Was it true? She didn't have time to think about it as Draco sent another stream of video to her, still unaware that she had seen his confession.

Here, Draco and Ron were in front of a temple. Ron beat Draco up pretty bad, but Draco didn't return any of the hits. He simply stood up and conjured a vortex. Ron stumbled back and refused to enter. Draco let her watch the memory until the goddess explained the rules, and then he cut it off, releasing his sweaty hands from the Masochist and Hermione. He was so out of breath and sore that he felt like he just benched 20 reps of 300 pounds.

He waited for Hermione to open her eyes. When she did, he was dumbstruck to see tears welled up inside. She bit her bottom lip to keep them steady and then she flung her arms around Draco. She began crying into his shoulder. He protectively wrapped her in his arms and hugged her.

"Thank you so much, Draco," she sobbed, pulling away. "I didn't know..."

Draco nodded, then suddenly, he felt something claw into his chest. He howled with pain and lunged back, holding the large lump there. Hermione's eyes expanded and she reached for her wand, but until she was sure that the spirit demon wasn't a poisonous one, she didn't want to risk burning it off. The Masochist, watching with horror, mustered his courage and turned Draco over.

He cut through the back of his dress shirt with a sharp fingernail and put his stubby hand on the lump bulging out of Draco's shoulder blade. Trembling, he began sucking in the demon's memories. His whole body quaked violently after thirty seconds of contact with Deletrix. The black lump on Draco's back grew smaller, like a shrinking tumor, but the Masochist shrieked and exploded into dust. Draco's cool gray eyes flashed open and he caught his breath, sucking in his own sweat at the same time, and then he fainted, completely exhausted.

**

"Jordan!" Hermione yelled. "Jordan! Come here!"

Jordan jumped over the armchairs in his way and ran to the door, helping her hoist Draco up.

"What happened?" he panted, observing that Draco's shirt was completely soaked through with sweat and a layer of dust covered the both of them.

"The Masochist exploded! He showed me Draco's memories, but I can't tell you what they're about...in case if that breaks the rules..."

"Of the hell dimension?" Jordan asked, catching on. Hermione nodded as they sat Draco down in an armchair.

"Then something happened that made Draco suffer a minor seizure. The Masochist tried weakening the demon by eating its memories, but he combusted as a result."

"Not surprised," Jordan muttered under his breath. "Deletrix translates into The Destroyer. He's an ancient demon who used to rule a burnt down region of Africa; I wouldn't be surprised if he was burnt down because of him. It is said that he once killed all his followers because one of them screwed him over. From there, he became weaker. Not really a thinker, but he's deadly, if we don't get him off of Draco soon, Draco's going to die."

Hermione paled. Draco was going to die? Her mind blanked of all reason. A pang in her heart made her nauseous and lightheaded. She closed her eyes and sat down before she fell down. Taking a breath to calm herself, she asked, "How do we get Deletrix off?"

Jordan shook his head. "I don't know. I didn't find out how they killed him..."

"Well we have to keep looking!" Hermione cried, standing up and heading towards her laptop.

"Hermione," Jordan said. "You have to calm down first."

"I AM CALM!" she screamed, trying to release all the feelings inside her at once. "Draco's going through this because of you and me, Jordan. Because of us!" She buried her head inside her arms. Jordan bowed his head and studied the man who once used to be the most hateful and selfish boy on earth.

"He's going to be okay, Hermione," Jordan assured. "When have we ever let anyone down?"

He gave her a warm smile. Hermione sighed, feeling much better after her little outburst. "You're right. We have to save him. I have a plan. It's going to be dangerous though."

Jordan grinned. "I laugh in the face of danger."