Prophecy

One: In the Dark

It had been a long time since any of them had used any magic. Ron had become so used to living as a muggle that she could barely imagine him ever going back to the way things were. Although that was the point. To fool everyone into believing that they were a normal group of friends who shared a flat and didn't know anything about another time and place besides the one right in front of them. They were, of course, lying. They were playing a game, trying to live another day until they could get the edge that they so desperately needed. It had been months, and that hadn't happened. She was beginning to lose all hope.

Since they were trying to be normal, that meant they weren't having any contact with the magical world, which meant they heard all of their information through stealth. They would sneak into Diagon Alley late in the night and pray that no one saw them. The war was not going well, and the rumors were stirring that Voldemort had already killed Harry Potter. This was of course false, but they weren't allowed to say that. Although Voldemort himself also knew this, for if Harry were dead, he would already have all the power he needed.

As for her, she was trying to keep everything together. A part of her was happy to not be back in the world of magic while another part desperately wanted to be at Hogwarts, studying and joking around with her friends. She was even starting to miss potions with Snape. She even missed Draco Malfoy. Insanity was right around the corner when she started missing him, but she couldn't help it. She was home sick. She wanted her mother one minute and Professor Dumbledore the next. The latter was impossible, so she chose to think about the former.

By her urging her parents had gone to America, far away from what was going on in Europe, but she knew it wouldn't save them forever. America wasn't going to be able to protect them anymore than Europe would, but she had to do something. She sent them there, hid them with a Covent and promised to bring them back once the war was over. She was pretty sure they knew that was the last time they would see each other.

She hadn't done any fighting. All they did was plan. Harry felt traumatized nightly. He slept little and was constantly hearing his voice. Ron was always causing fights with his brothers, and she read. She read until her eyes hurt so much that she wanted to cry. She knew that one day they'd get something- anything to let them know that it was okay to begin. They weren't going to win with magic, they knew that they were outdone there, but they could win by quick wit and knowledge. They had to try something.

Sometimes she thought she heard Dumbledore talking to her. She would be sitting in the kitchen, reading the same book for the sixth time, and she was almost positive she could hear him telling her that she was almost there, that she almost had the answer, but she knew that it was just her mind. She was just so desperate to have some sort of sign that she was moving in the right direction.

She wished for new company. Maybe if someone new were around, everyone wouldn't fight so much. Ron clung to her for support and she wasn't sure if she could even help herself let alone him. But she was his girlfriend, and girlfriends were supposed to help their boyfriends when they needed them most, and Ron definitely needed her now.

Sometimes she fantasized that some of her school friends were on their way, like they were throwing a party. It was all she could do to stay sane. Sometimes she wished she had never known about magic or Hogwarts or Harry Potter. Part of her wished she had been allowed to stay normal. The other part of her hated herself for thinking that way.

Harry simply pushed everyone away. He would sit alone for hours without saying anything. The voices in his head were slowly driving him insane, they all knew that. Ginny tried to help, but she usually ended up in tears, unable to sooth him. She wished she could help them both. Some of the time she would pray to be able to do magic, just once. If she could do one spell, then she could end Harry's pain and make the voices stop, but that kind of magic was going to attract attention, too much attention. It was too dangerous. So everyone just stood by, helpless to do anything more than watch him slowly fall into himself.

She wondered if he knew that was going to happen. When he had left he had intended to go alone. She often thought that the rest of them should leave, let Harry finish things the way he had intended too, but she couldn't do it. She couldn't bring herself to just leave and let her best friend die without a fight. Beside, Ginny would never leave him. She loved him too much, and Ron, Fred and George would never leave Ginny. So she was stuck. Stuck to sit there unable to do anything about anyone's pain, including her own.

"You have to eat, Harry," each of them would say. Every time a meal was served, they would try and coax him into eating. Each time they failed. He snuck food late at night. Not that he had to sneak it. She was sure that the voices were only quiet late at night. That was the only time he was at peace.

"Nothing is helping him," Ron said, putting yet another untouched plate on the counter beside the sink. "I'm starting to think that he's just not with us anymore. Maybe he's gone mad."

"He's not mad, Ron! He's just tired. He can't sleep, he never eats, those voices..." Hermione trailed off, shivering at the thought of having an all access pass into Voldemort's thoughts.

Ron sighed, leaning against the counter and grabbing a towel, drying the dishes that Hermione handed him. "I know that, but it's as though he's not even here. Have you looked at him lately? His eyes are dead. Maybe he's in a coma like that girl on the television. I hope she's okay, I didn't get to watch her today."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Even though Ron was doing excellent at the whole muggle thing, he didn't fully grasp the concept of acting. He thought all the people on television were real and just really nice to let other people watch them all day. "I'm sure East Enders will be on again later."

"I sure hope so. It's very nice of those people to let us see what they're doing, isn't it?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, refusing to answer. "And all of this has to do with Harry because...."

"Because he's in a coma like that one girl. I'm telling you, Hermione, he needs an intervention."

"No Ron, he needs to have it all stop. If we don't find something soon, Harry will die. We have to find something, anything to lead us to Voldemort." She pulled the plug, watching the water go down the drain and gurgle at the excess soap. She was tired. Not as tired as Harry, but tired nonetheless. She didn't know how much longer she was supposed to keep it together. She couldn't take care of everyone forever.

They were silent as they put the dishes away, not wanting to discuss the inevitable. They all knew they were eventually going to have to either kill him themselves or just let him face Voldemort, higher ground be damned. She held the silver platter, looking at her reflection for a moment. She looked so old. So tired and worn out. A loud banging at the door startled her, forcing her to scream and drop the platter, causing it to make an even louder noise as it hit the floor.

She didn't bother picking it up, instead going to the door when she heard raised voices. She turned the corner in time to see Ron pushing someone out the door, trying to slam it shut only to be stopped by whoever was on the other side.

"Ron?" she asked, giving him a concerned look before her eyes widened. The door had been pushed open to reveal a very wet and very tired looking Draco Malfoy. He was dripping water and blood all over the floor, his pale face whiter than usual. "Draco?" her voice was a little squeakier than she had wanted, but it was also disbelieving...which meant she was pretty sure she sounded like a chipmunk.

"Hello Granger. Did you miss me?" Draco smirked, an expression which at least let her know he was alive and not on the brink of death.

She snapped out of her reverie, which had included damning herself and God for wishing that another person would show up. She hadn't really meant it when she said she missed Draco, she just missed the whole Hogwarts ambiance. "Ron, shut the door and get the first aid kit. Come on, you're tracking water and mud and blood everywhere."

Draco followed her wordlessly, which she took as a blessing. He seemed weak, like his only comment and smirk had taken all the strength that his body had left. She was almost certain she had walked into a trap. Draco was a Death Eater...or a Death Eater in training or groupie or something. Either way he was a card carrying member of the 'Go Voldemort' Club.

She motioned for him to sit down at one of the stools at the kitchen counter, and waited for Ron to come back down. They waited in silence. She watched as he took off his coat, and saw that it was soaked in what seemed to be blood and not water. It wasn't raining that hard. She watched his face contort in pain and turned away, refusing to feel sorry for his stupid ass. She busied herself with fixing a bowl of warm water and getting clean cloths, thankful when Ron returned. He handed her the kit without saying anything, but the glare he gave Draco before leaving the room said enough, and Draco merely stared in return. It wasn't menacing or mocking or angry, it was simply a stare.

She sighed and set the kit and bowl beside her as she sat in the chair next to him, scooting closer so she could find where he was hurt. She rolled up his right sleeve to reveal a huge gash in his arm. She looked up at him with an expression that she hoped conveyed remorse more than the disgust she was feeling at having to look at essentially the insides of a persons arm. "This may sting," she whispered apologetically as she began cleaning the wound. For his part he never moved or made a noise to say that it hurt. All the movement he made was the clenching of his fist every now and then and she could see his jaw muscles working. "How did this happen?"

He was quiet for a while, and she figured that he wasn't going to say anything, which was typical Draco. She didn't really want to breech the topic, but she was pretty sure that something beastly had taken a bite out of him. She also needed to know how he found them.

"They," he said, his voice so low she was almost certain she had imagined it, but when she looked up, she could see his lips ready to move again. "They did. The Death Eaters, they did it."

"Why?" she was panicked now, and had stopped trying to help him. He noticed this and looked down at his arm, reaching for the rags himself. She intercepted and started working again. Without looking up she reworded the question, "Why did they do this?" she was calmer now, Ron's constant television watching had made her a good actress, "How did you find us?"

"Dumbledore...he's not dead. Snape and I, we planned it this way. Dumbledore's alive. Voldemort found out."

"Why not-"

"Avada Kedavra? I don't know. They tried. I'm apparently quick on my feet. They did this first, though. Before trying to kill me, that is." He stopped, flinching slightly when she found something sharp in his arm. She scrunched up her brow and got the tweezers, digging into the hole in his arm and pulling out what appeared to be a part of a wand. "What is this?"

"Hmm?" he looked down and shrugged, "I do believe that is all that is left of my wand."

"Oh...well." She didn't really know what else to say. Her head was swimming with a million questions, none of which she was able to form into a coherent thought that anyone would be able to understand.

"I wasn't looking for you," he confessed after a few more minutes of silence. She looked up, confused. "You asked me how I found you, and I'm just letting you know I wasn't looking. I found a portkey. It brought me about ten miles away from here, in the middle of the woods, which made me so fucking happy." She smirked at the idea of Draco having to drag himself through the mud and out of the woods. "I'm glad you find it all to be funny. I was hoping it would take me to Dumbledore, since that had been the original plan after my mother died. This was the first house I found, and I was going to bleed to death if I didn't find help, so I knocked...loudly."

"You certainly surprised all of us," she confessed, taping on his last bandage and surveying her work. It was satisfying for now, but would need changed again soon. She stood up and carried the bowl to the sink, watching the now pink water swirl down the drain. "No one was supposed to be able to find us here, so I think Ron was scared."

"And you weren't?" She turned, shocked that he was standing right behind her and slid slightly. He held her arms, straightening her up before letting her go and stepping back.

"I was more than surprised. Everyone thought you were dead. I mean, why else would Potter have left?"

"Harry understands what we need to do. We're trying-"

"Shut up, Hermione!" Ron screamed walking into the room and grabbing her arm, pulling her away from Draco and to the other side of the room. "Alright, Malfoy, sit down."

Draco sat down, looking half amused by the situation. She could tell that he was tired of fighting with anyone and simply wanted to go to sleep. She could sympathize. But Ron, he looked ready for a fight, had probably been itching for one ever since Fred and George had left to go to London looking for an ex Death Eater claiming to have some important information. She rolled her eyes, leaning back against the counter and braced herself for what she was sure was going to be a very ignorant tirade.

"Malfoy, I really have no problem killing you with my bare hands, so if I were you, I'd answer every single question correctly. Take your time, because you only get one chance." Draco simply shrugged, and looked at her. He seemed to be content with his current situation, which caused her to worry that he was really under the Imperio curse. "How long do we have until Voldemort gets here?" Ron was asking, his fists clenched and his body rigid, all signs that he was ready to fight.

Draco was about to open his mouth when Harry walked in, his face pale and tired. He looked as bad as Draco, and he had all of his blood in his body, not counting lacking a hole in the arm. Harry stopped and looked at the three, completely unfazed. "Harry," Ron started, forcing his body to calm down, "we were just about to find out what Draco here knows about the Death Eaters."

Harry looked at Draco for a moment. She thought he was simply going to shrug and walk away and almost fainted when he opened his mouth to speak. "Draco doesn't know anything. They're looking for him, though. They aren't anywhere near here. How's your arm? Still hurt?"

"Good. Thanks." She could see Ron gaping, and Draco's stoic expression and Harry's complete exhaustion. They all needed something from her. Ron wanted love, Harry wanted peace...Draco seemed to be the only one she could help, but now that the physical pain was gone, she was almost certain that she was going to have to give up another piece of herself in order to help calm his mind.

"See Ron? Harry knows that Draco is okay. You can't deny what Harry knows. So I'm going to take him to his room and let him go to sleep. We can start in on the explanations in the morning. Alright?" She didn't wait for an answer. She walked out of the room and towards the stairs, hearing Draco drag behind her.

"Here we are!" Her voice was too perky. She knew it was too perky. Even she almost winced at its perkiness, but the silence was killing her, as was his emotionless attitude. "The door to the bathroom is on the left. Umm...not that you can, but there is no magic here. They'll be able to track us if they sense the magic, so if you need any help, we're all here." They stood there for a minute, just staring at each other. She tried to gauge a reaction from him. She needed to know if he was grateful or angry or vengeful, but all she got was cold silence. She sighed, going to the door. "Maybe it was a blessing that this is where you ended up. You never know, maybe this is where you were meant to be." She went to close the door, but stopped when she heard him speak.

"Thank you." It was simple and quiet, she barely registered that he had said anything at all.

"What?" She opened the door back up and looked to him for an explanation, but his face hadn't changed, he wasn't even facing her. He was talking to the wall.

"Thank you...for saving me. You didn't have to, but thanks anyway. I'll leave in the morning. I don't want to cause any problems for anyone. Not anymore."

"Draco-" she stopped, not quite knowing what to say. 'Yes, please leave, you'll complicate things.' 'No you have to stay, someone has to save Harry and obviously none of us are capable of doing that.' She was confused, so she just left the room again. "Get some sleep; we'll talk in the morning." She closed the door and took a deep breath.

This could possibly be bad. Bad in the proportion that things are really bad. Draco wasn't just some school friend who randomly showed up to help fight. Draco was part of the enemy. He was hurt, but they didn't know what his circumstances were. She did know that she wasn't going to get any sleep, though. Ron would be fuming to pump her for information. She wished she could delay until the morning, claim a headache or just say she was tired, but she couldn't. Someone had to be strong, and Ron was too angry to be rational let alone strong.

"So he's really staying here?" The second her foot touched the bottom landing, Ron was on her, his eyes angry and his body stiff. He obviously still wanted a fight with someone. "I can't believe you let him stay here! Have you lost your mind? Draco's a Death Eater! Now no one can go to sleep because we all know he'll kill us then. He's too much of a coward to do it while we're awake."

"Even Harry doesn't believe Draco's a Death Eater, Ron. I told him that we're going to discuss everything in the morning, so I'm not just letting the topic drop." She brushed by him and walked into the living room, falling onto the plush white sofa unceremoniously. She looked over at him in the doorway, a look of complete and utter shock written all over his face. "What? Did you think I was just going to be like, 'Oh Draco please come and stay at my house even though you've shown up at a completely conspicuous time and have a hole in your arm!' You do remember that don't you, Ron? That you can see straight through Draco's forearm? I'm no doctor, but I'm pretty sure that shouldn't be happening." She propped her feet up on the table and relaxed as she felt him sit down beside her.

"I don't think we're going to last much longer like this," he confessed, wrapping an arm around her and unconsciously playing with a strand of her hair. "We can't just sit here, Hermione. We're sitting ducks, and Harry's getting weaker by the day. We have to make a move."

"I know," she whispered, looking down and picking at invisible lint on her jeans. "I just need to have a plan. Just a little more time. Something is bound to come up. We can't simply jump in without knowing all the rules, Ron. Harry will die that way."

"And he'll die this way." Ron was blunt about these things. There was a time when he wouldn't even say the word 'dead' without getting pale and looking like he was about to pass out. But now everything was different, and Ron was acting more and more like a solider every day. At first it completely turned her on, but now it was just scary. He was a loose cannon and he was going to explode soon, and more than likely die. Something that she wasn't willing to think about just yet.

"Just a little more time, Ron. I promise something will come up. It has to." She leaned her head into his chest and closed her eyes. This was all she needed. She just needed to know that he was going to be there, backing her up. She needed support. He continued to play with her hair, the gentle strokes lulling her to sleep and for a moment she pretended that they were normal, and they weren't waiting for the end of the world. He was just a boy and she was just a girl and they were happy. That one thought was what finally allowed her to fall asleep.