Perished Dreams

Perished Dreams - Chapter One

Old Foes

Chapter One: Old Foes

The raw, damp cell smelled of earth and decay. Hermione closed her eyes in despair and for the first time since she had been captured, she allowed herself to think about the hopelessness of the situation she was in.

Just yesterday, she had been, if not happy and carefree, at least not trapped in Lord Voldemort's headquarter awaiting a destiny of which only was known that it would not be pleasant.

For what reasons they had entrapped her here, she was unsure. After all, they could not possibly think of using her to get to Harry, since Harry was no more.

The thought brought its familiar stab of pain, but as she had noticed, it was less and less of an agony for every time her mind reached the subject of the downfall of the Light side. The deaths of Professor Dumbledore, Harry, the Weasley twins...the desperate flight of all those who refused to join the Dark Side...and of course the final triumph of the Dark Lord, their beloved Hogwarts turned into a school for the Dark Arts, now harbouring exclusively the spawn of those who supported He Who Must Not Be Named.

Perhaps it was simply so, Hermione thought musingly to herself, that a human being did not have the capacity to produce such a pain as the one she has felt for Harry for a very long time.

Now, none of that mattered any more, since it seemed as if she shortly would be joining him.

Shrouded in her own thoughts as she was, she did not notice the silent entering of one her capturers.

She looked so different, he thought with an unusual touch of melancholy. Mudblood Granger, ever the know-it-all, ever annoyingly confident and outspoken, and of course, ever in the company of Potty and the Weasel.

Now she looked vulnerable and...defeated. He cringed slightly by the sight of the faintly blue mark on her cheek, and reminded himself to have a stern talk with Crabbe and Goyle about being careful not to harm prisoners unless they were told so. One of the most pleasurable aspects of the discovery of the Cruciatus Curse was the impressive effect it had upon those two bumbling idiots' memory. Finally he had found a foolproof (he smiled humourlessly at the unintentional wit) way of making them remember his instructions.

As he slowly and soundlessly approached the motionless figure on the floor, he noticed other differences about her also. Her familiar bushy hair was now straight. He stopped for a second to admire it, never before noticing that it had the exact same nuance as chocolate. Then he realised what he was doing, and with a snort of self-contempt continued his pace. And she was thin, far beyond the fashionably so and nearing a famished look.

But something (undoubtedly the snort) had awakened her from her thoughts, and as her eyes focused on his face, they went from showing fear and caution to the well known mingling of loathing and contempt he remembered so well from their school days. But now there was something else in her eyes, something remarkably akin to hatred. He recoiled slightly.

Hermione got to her feet and clutched her hands around the bars separating them. He got the nasty feeling that it was really his neck she imagined squeezing. Not that it would have done much harm, he thought with a look at her slender wrists.

"Malfoy," she hissed, narrowing her eyes.

He inclined his head in a mock bow, careful to conceal his relief that she wasn't completely broken.

"I'm delighted to see you again too, Granger."

"You filthy, lowlife son of a bi..."

"Now, now, Granger. Don't you remember what happened the last time someone insulted my mother in front of me?"

He instantly regretted, for judging by the broad grin that spread over her face, she most certainly did.

"You know, it was really just a charade. I knew Moody was Crouch all along, we actually planned that whole thing together, to convince everyone that he was truly that old nutter."

However, Hermione's facial expression did not change the slightest. Now she had a near misty expression in her eyes.

"Anyway," Draco said hastily, having the very distinct feeling that this was the time for pleas and tears not the look of someone who was reliving their best memory, "I did not come here to discuss the past, although that of course is the category to which your life will soon belong." He got the pleasure of seeing the fear returning to her eyes, but it didn't feel as good as he had thought that it would be.

"Yes, of course, let's not hesitate but get on with the torturing and killing, shall we?"

"You know, Granger, someone really ought to have taught you how to behave in front of those you are inferior to. However, that is fortunately something I am gifted at." He smiled coldly and caressed his wand.

Although she despised herself for letting him see her fear, she drew back from him and stood, shivering against the wall, as far away from her old fiend as possible. For a moment, it had been as if she were back at Hogwarts again, merely sniping with the obnoxious boy he had been. Now the bitter reality confronted her. She was completely at the mercy of someone who had always despised her. Someone who was no longer an annoying fellow student, but a lethal, cruel Death Eater. And he was right, there wasn't anyone who could or would help her.

Closing her eyes, she wondered vaguely which spell he would use and how much it would hurt. Feeling a surge of sheer panic, her memory showed with undesired clearness the state in which Lavender Brown had been after the Death Eaters were done with her. Not dead, but certainly not in a state anyone could describe as life. But the thought of Lavender also awoke another feeling, a feeling that had hovered under the surface of grief, fear and desperation for so long: rage.

"You don't think I've learned, Master Malfoy? Oh, but rest assured that I have. But the lesson I have drawn out of your and your friends' gracious teachings is that if anyone is inferior here, it is not I. I am not the one who has to hurt other people to feel good. I am not the one who wants to make someone suffer just because of some stupid old school feud. Do you want to know what I think of you, Malfoy? You and the rest of your little group of cloaked vermin?"

"Not in particular, no."

"I think you're pathetic. I think you're a bunch of worthless losers who feel so bad about your own miserable lives that you want to destroy all of those who do have something to live for."

"Now I'm hurt."

"As far as I'm concerned, you're nothing but filthy scum who should have been stamped out the day you were born! And the day I ever consider myself to be inferior to you, I'll be ready for St. Mungo's!"

"You know, that day may come sooner than you think."

She didn't respond, merely stared defiantly at him.

She was kind of cute when she angry, he thought to himself, and felt all the want to hurt her disappear.

Fortunately Hermione did not know what he was thinking, otherwise she might have felt the direct opposite urge as far as he was concerned. However, not being a Legilimens, she remained in blessed ignorance.

The truth was that the only reason she had been captured was that she unintentionally had been in the way of one of their operations, and he had come down here to set her free. Of course, normal procedure would be to let her stay her to rot, but as one of the Dark Lord's most prominent Death Eaters he could basically do as he pleased.

He was still unsure as to why he had not killed her but instead actually come rushing to her aid. After all, they had been sworn enemies at Hogwarts. But he was not petty enough to kill someone just because of a school grudge, he thought angrily to himself (her words had stung). He had not even actually seriously considered hurting her. Much, anyway. It was simply that look she always gave him, as if he were a bat with rabies, which made him want to duck her a little.

But now another idea seized him. It wasn't an idea he believed she would like, but that didn't matter. It wasn't as if she had a choice.

Determinedly, he approached the filthy cell, opened the door and yanked her unceremoniously to her feet, and dragged her towards the exit.

"Whe...where are you taking me?"

"Home."

"You mean, you're letting me go?"

"My home."