Old Moon Fades

Old Moon Fades

Chapter Two: Forgotten Fortitude

It was utter pandemonium at the Burrow. When Fred and George returned with the news that Hermione was missing Molly Weasley swung into action. She immediately Apparated to the Ministry of Magic. Fred went by Floo to Grimmauld Place to alert the other members of the Order, while George Apparated outside the Dursley's to collect Harry. Within mere minutes the house was filled with various people all intent on discovering exactly where Hermione had been taken and by whom. Ginny sat at the kitchen table crying softly and Ron had disappeared outside with red-rimmed eyes and a look of utter defeat on his face.

Harry and George arrived shortly thereafter by Floo. Harry caught himself searching the faces of those cramped into the tiny room for Sirius. He mentally berated his foolish hope and forced himself to concentrate on what was at the moment most important. Hermione. Kidnapped by Death Eaters. It seemed that the Death Eaters had finally gone public by targeting one of Harry's best friends. It didn't seem to cross Harry's mind that she was Muggleborn and also happened to be the cleverest witch in Hogwarts. All Harry could think was that it was his fault. Somehow he was responsible. The guilt pressed down heavy on his heart. He didn't know what he'd do if she died. He couldn't even fathom it. But, he couldn't help also thinking that he should have anticipated it. After all hadn't Malfoy threatened him at the end of term? This act was merely payback for sending Lucius Malfoy and the other Death Eaters to Azkaban.

Harry looked around for Ron or Ginny. He saw Ginny sitting at the kitchen table crying while Molly hugged her tightly and whispering softly into her hair. He couldn't make out what she was saying and didn't want to intrude. Ron apparently wasn't inside the house and as Harry moved to find him Remus Lupin caught him by the elbow.

"Harry, I'm glad to see you've arrived. We would have sent Aurors to get you but George Weasley beat us to it," he smiled hollowly. It seemed to Harry that his former professor had aged another ten years in the scant weeks that had passed since he'd stood with him on the platform at King's Cross confronting the Dursley's. His tattered clothes hung loosely and wrinkled on his battered frame, and Lupin's eyes were tired and defeated looking as they searched his own. "We think it's the Malfoy's but you'd probably guessed that already."

Harry nodded and looked up at his mentor clearly wanting more information. Lupin complied.

"Dumbledore is sending members of the Order and several Aurors to Malfoy Manor to investigate. Others are being sent to various locations where we think Death Eaters may be hiding. It seems that no one else was attacked but urgent owls were sent to those we feel are in the most danger."

Harry started at that, "Muggleborns." It was not a question. Clearly the Death Eaters would be most interested in Muggleborns first. But, it seemed to Harry that this attack wasn't merely political. It was extremely personal, meant to be regarded as a slap in the face of Harry, the Ministry, and the Order.

"Yes, Harry. It's started." Lupin looked resigned. The second war had begun.

Soon, thought Harry. Soon he would be forced to make an enormous decision, to kill or... He didn't want to think of the alternative and forced his brain away from those thoughts. He didn't want to die, not really...

"Harry, now I know you are worried about Hermione, but it hasn't been all that long since she disappeared and the Order is already on their way."

A quick glance around the room proved it to be true. Half the people who had been occupying the kitchen were gone. Harry was still looking around when Lupin pulled him out of his reverie yet again.

"Just so you know if you ever want to talk to someone about Sirius..."

"NO! Thank you. I, um... I'm going to go find Ron. And tell him what's going on," and with that Harry stormed from the room leaving a crestfallen Lupin behind.

Harry found Ron behind the house vigorously degnoming the garden. It appeared that Ron was in a temper and Harry ducked as a gnome whizzed by his face and over the fence. Harry approached cautiously not wanting to be the one that set Ron off, and seated himself on a small stone bench.

It was several minutes before Ron actually spoke, "She'll be alright won't she? I mean, she has to be..."

Harry knew not to look at Ron and answered quietly, "Dumbledore sent some of the Order to Malfoy Manor to check things out. If she's there they'll find her."

Ron didn't say anything again for awhile, but Harry knew that he was deeply upset and trying to mask his feelings. He was mildly surprised when he glanced up to see Ron looking at him with ice hidden in his eyes.

"If Malfoy so much as touches Hermione, I'll kill him."

* * *

Darkness crept cautiously into the room. Freezing air filled her lungs as she sluggishly regained consciousness. Hermione's hands met with cold marble floors as she struggled to sit up and for a moment she couldn't remember where she was or what had happened. But, it all came crashing back suddenly and hit her like a ton of bricks. Malfoy. Both Malfoys. Lucius had escaped from Azkaban. It was bound to have happened eventually, but she never anticipated that it would be so quickly. Hermione reached for her wand knowing that it wouldn't be there. It wasn't. Her calculating eyes quickly scanned the room for any means of escape. There were no windows and judging from the dampness that hung in the air, she surmised that she was somewhere underground. Large bookcases covered the walls and were filled with books she had never heard of before; under normal circumstances their spines would have called out to her in siren song. Not now. She had to find a way out. Wobbly legs threatened to collapse as she finally found her footing. With a trace of panic creeping into her step Hermione staggered towards the only door.

"Going somewhere, Granger?"

She spun around towards the sound of the voice. Draco Malfoy sat regally in a plush chair with one hand casually draped over the arm. He was not looking at her but at what he was currently twirling in his hand. A wand. Her wand.

"Did you honestly think I'd let you keep it?" He looked over at her then with blatant hatred etched into every fine line of his face.

The terror that she had so far been able to keep at bay was quickly overwhelming her. It bubbled over into every portion of her brain and she couldn't think. The panic rose and choked her as she blindly turned and fumbled toward the door.

"He's going to kill you, you know, my father. He's going to kill you for what you and your lot did at the Ministry," Malfoy sneered and chuckled wildly, his eyes carefully trained upon her. "And I get to watch."

Hermione scrambled toward the door that seemed to be getting further and further away with every step she took. Her hand wrapped around the bronze handle as clammy fingers snaked around her arm, pulling her back into the room and throwing her to the ground. Her head hit the floor and one of her feet was pinned awkwardly beneath her, twisted at an odd angle. It felt like nothing, but a sob escaped anyway.

"Please." Her voice was whisper-quiet and featherlite. Tears were now pouring freely down her bruised and battered cheeks. "Malfoy, please."

He could barely hear her she was so quiet. Malfoy ignored her and gave her a swift kick in the side as he strode back to his chair. He had barely sat down when the door swung open and his father walked in. The weeks at Azkaban showed in his face. His long blonde hair was streaked with grey and his eyes were haunted. But his mouth was curved into the closest thing to a smile that Draco had ever seen from his father. Inside Draco cheered with happiness that he could be the cause of such a smile. He so rarely pleased his father. A cold word and an even colder look of disdain were what he was usually returned. Maybe Lucius was finally beginning to see just how hard Draco worked to please him.

Draco had gone with them when they raided the Granger's house that morning. He had watched, not allowed to participate, as his father and several others attacked the Grangers while they sat reading their Muggle newspapers. Hermione had been upstairs in her room as they began their attack. The sound of fighting alerted her to their presence but it was too late. They cornered her in the hallway and though she provided feeble resistance, it had been relatively easy to kidnap her. A few Crucio curses and a simple Bewitched Sleep spell and Hermione was out cold. With a whispered "Morsmorde" the Dark Mark blazed brightly. They all left using their own portkeys, returning to their various hiding places in relative safety.

Lucius stood over Hermione's prone form, his polished boots nudging her ribcage and jostling her from her faded consciousness. She struggled to keep her eyes in focus and tried to clear her head so that she could think more quickly. But her mind was so clouded and her head hurt. She cautiously reached up and touched the place where her head had met with the floor. Her hand came back sticky with blood. She chanced a glance at Lucius Malfoy who had moved across the room. He was removing something from the far wall. The dim light didn't quite reach that portion of the room, but she could see the shiny reflection of the torches dancing on metal. They were weapons of some sort she guessed and didn't want to further imagine Lucius Malfoy's intentions with them.

The scrape of metal cut through the silence. Hermione knew better than to try to stand up and aggravate the Malfoy's. So she opted simply to sit on the cold floor with her hands resting on the ground beside her. Her foot hurt terribly and she knew that it was broken. She couldn't have run away even if she'd had the opportunity. Draco was watching her while Lucius tested out different blades. Panic was replaced with resignation and while it wasn't in her nature to give up calmly, she knew that it was futile. If they wanted to kill her they would. And, she certainly didn't want them to enjoy it more by fighting them.

It seemed that Lucius had finally chosen a blade, a shiny silver dagger with a large emerald encrusted on the hilt. He looked at Hermione and then back at his son with cold-blooded determination. Draco stood there by the chair he'd abandoned with a look of nervous curiosity on his face.

Lucius sheathed the blade and tossed it nonchalantly across the room to his only son and ordered, "You are going to prove your worth tonight, Draco. You have the pleasure of killing the dirty Mudblood as the final part of your initiation."

Hermione watched as Draco hesitated at first and looked for a moment like he was going to refuse. But, his eyes became steel and his face hardened. He extracted the dagger from its leather sheath, examining it carefully before throwing the sheath on the ground. In two steps he was there beside her, pulling Hermione up from the ground, his hands like a clammy vice around her arm. She winced in pain as she was forced to put weight on her ankle. Draco raised the dagger and with her last ounce of fortitude she raised her brown eyes to his grey ones. For a brief moment she thought she saw him falter. He pressed the dagger to her throat anyway.