Visions and Prophesies

The sun filtered into the empty common room as Harry ventured in. His steps were heavy, almost as heavy as an elderly person. Three weeks had now passed since Hermione was discovered missing. All of her personal belongings had been found tucked away neatly in her room... including her wand. Stopping one step from the bottom, Harry rested his back against the wall. Who in their right mind would leave their only line of defence in their room?

"Of all the times to use common sense, she leaves hers in the trunk!"

He threw his head back, ignoring the sound of it hitting the wall behind him. After a few moments he resumed his trek, sat in the armchair next to the fireplace, and was soon lost in thought.

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A long jag of coughing sounded through the damp passages of the dungeons of Riddle Manor. Lucius stood at the door to one of the cells, a wicked smirk twisting his features. Hermione had given them exactly what they wanted. After hearing the prophesy, Voldemort told him to do whatever he saw fit to the girl. As he raised his wand, a different thought overcame him... one he knew he had to act upon. He reasoned to himself that he deserved at least one undignified act, a gift or sorts, for being the ever faithful Death Eater. She was so weak, she couldn't fight him. As she lay in one corner of the room sobbing, he spat in her direction.

"Well Ms. Granger, that's ONE part of you Potter won't be getting."

That had been two weeks ago. The house-elf that maintained Riddle Manor always came back with the food tray full, indicating that the girl had stopped eating. She was sick, and what use was sick bait? Plenty according to the Dark Lord. Lucius opened the cell door and found Hermione curled up in a small ball against the wall. Every breath she took rattled in and out of her chest, and he could see her cheeks were flushed with fever. Every so often her body would tremble with an uncontrolled shiver.

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In the fifth year girls dorm, Sarin sat up in her bed, soaked in sweat, the image of a very ill Hermione burned into her mind. Jumping out of bed, she grabbed a pair of jeans and a sweater from her trunk and hurriedly got dressed. She knew she had to share the information with Dumbledore, who would pass it on to Harry and Ron. She ran down the stairs from the girls dormitory and across the common room.

"Where do you think you're going at this time of the morning?"

Sarin whirled around with a start. Seeing Harry sitting there, his green eyes trained on her, she replaced her frightened look with one of more disdain.

"And what do you care?"

"Maybe I don't."

"Then why did you ask?"

Harry halted. Why did he ask? He sighed and sat back in the chair, looking defeated.

"I don't know," he mumbled.

Sarin narrowed her eyes for a few moments, then heaved an exaggerated sigh.

"Look Harry... I know you feel like I'm intruding on something that I have no right to, but the truth of the matter is, I have a link to Hermione... I don't know where she is, but I do know what is going on with her."

Harry's eyes snapped up to meet hers. Before he could say anything, feet were heard stomping down the stairs.

"We'll discuss this later Sarin."

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Draco looked bored sitting in his father's study. He had received an owl telling him that he was to come home immediately. He half listened to the man ramble on and on about how, as a future Death Eater, he had obligations to the Dark Lord. Draco hated both his father and his father's "Lord" equally. They were both disgusting, but he would never let on that he felt that way.

"Draco, are you listening to me?"

"Yes Father."

"Good. I have a little surprise for you in the dungeons. I'll ask Nib to take you there."

There was a twisted smirk on the elder Malfoy's face as the house elf came in and began to escort the young master down. Halfway to the designated room, Draco heard a painfully long bout of coughing and knew it was a female being held.

"Nib, who is in the dungeons?"

"Nib is not knowing Master Draco. Nib is only knowing the person is a 'mudblood'. Master Lucius told Nib not to ask questions."

Draco looked slightly peeved that his surprise was a filthy mudblood. He stood back thinking of ways to voice his displeasure when the door swung open. Even if the dungeon had been awash in darkness, he would recognize that bushy hair anywhere.

"Granger?"

A hard cough and wheezing breath answered him.

"How long has she been here Nib?" Draco asked sharply.

"Nib is counting close to four weeks Master Draco. A bit after three weeks."

"I need to see my father."

In a blink, the elf was gone.

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Justice Defined

Draco knelt next to Hermione and listened to her labored breathing. She looked like shit. He gently brushed some of her hair away from her face and looked at the bruises that adorned her cheeks and eyes, and the cut on her lip that looked infected. He heard footsteps coming down the corridor and sighed, standing up to brush the dirt from the floor off his robes.

"Do you like your surprise Draco?"

Merlin, he hated that voice. The voice of the man he could never please.

"Yes father. Can she be moved up to my private rooms here?"

The sneer left Lucius Malfoy's face in a flash and something dangerous glittered in his eyes.

"No Draco. The Dark Lord has need of her. You need to get back to school. Tell no one of what you know."

Draco looked at his father as if he had grown a double horned head.

"Father, it's Christmas Break. Why would I go back to school?"

"Because I said so Draco. You need to keep an eye on Potter and Weasley. Report back to me daily on their doings."

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The school was fairly empty, as more than the usual amounts of students went home for the Christmas break. The only people that remained were two Hufflepuff boys, a Ravenclaw girl, one Slytherin and Harry and Ron. Harry was sitting on the table across from the fire deep in thought. Why does Voldemort go after the people he loves? Why couldn't he just kidnap Harry and call it a day? Because he had already done that. He kidnapped him and Cedric, killed Cedric and avoided killing Harry only because he escaped by a well placed portkey.

"Harry, want to play chess?"

"No."

"We'll go visit Hagrid?"

"No."

" Play Exploding Snap?"

"No."

Ron sighed and sat down next to his friend.

"Harry, this is becoming an eerie reminder of first year. After you found the Mirror of Erised."

Harry gave a light snort and a small smile.

"You can't keep doing this. I mean, what good are you to Hermione if you're too weak to stand on your own two feet? At least eat something."

It was apparent that Harry hadn't been eating. His already small body was smaller and he was seen picking at his meals daily. He looked up at Ron and gave a slight nod.

"Ok. I'll eat something."

Just as Harry sat down, the doors to the Great Hall opened. The person standing there looked angry.

"Oy! Potter! Weasley! In the hall, NOW!"

Harry and Ron glanced at each other. What did Malfoy want? Slowly, they stood and made their way out into the Entrance Hall. Following closely behind Draco, they made no sound until they reached the portrait of a little girl waving.

"I need you both to listen to me and listen well because I'm only saying this once."

"Why should we listen to you Malfoy?" Ron piped in.

Draco's eyebrow slid up towards his hairline and an annoyed expression filled his features.

"Because I know where Granger is Weasel. I could be a typical Slytherin and let you figure it out on your own, but by the time Airhead and Shit-For-Brains figures it out, Granger will be dead."

Harry lunged forward and grabbed Draco by the arm, nearly falling down with the suddenness of his move.

"Where is she Malfoy? Where is Hermione?"