Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, I only borrowed them.
Author's note: this is my first story, so I'm still learning. Please r&r :)
A long week
"Do you know who I am?" came a voice from behind the most horrifying mask Hermione had ever seen.
"Of course I do! You're a death eater," she replied, her voice no where near as steady as she would have liked it to be.
He gave a cruel laugh that struck a bolt of terror into her. She glanced around to see if she could see Harry or Ron, but she knew it was hopeless; they were long gone by now.
"Mudblood," – and with that vicious word she knew exactly who he was – "your pathetic friends have gone and left you." He laughed again.
"Malfoy," she gasped, gripping her wand more tightly even though she knew it would be useless; he had his at her throat.
Malfoy ripped off his hat and mask to reveal his face. His hair was shoulder length and untamed and his eyes were huge and wild with excitement. He was paler than she remembered and almost unrecognisable. Malfoy tutted, "took you a while to work that one out. Not going to school this year obviously taking its toll."
He smirked and with his non-wand hand traced the length of her arm, the contact making her shiver, until he felt her hand grasped around her own wand, tugging it gently from her grasp. She relinquished it without much resistance; after all what could she do?
As she let the wand go Hermione felt the last ounce of courage and hope seep out of her. She seemed to deflate and this did not go unnoticed.
Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Tell me where Potter has gone and I won't hurt you," he said.
For one she didn't believe him, for two even if she did believe him she would not have told him and for three even if she did want to tell him she didn't know where he had gone. "I don't believe you," she replied.
He sneered, "fine. I lied. Shocking, I know. But look at it this way mudblood, you can die quickly or you can die slowly. So slowly that you'll be begging me to end your pathetic and meaningless existence in the end."
She shuddered, her quick brain trying to think up something to say. Anything to get her out of there alive. But she couldn't think of a thing. As the seconds went past, she became more and more desperate and the more desperate she became, the less she could think of anything to say. Maybe Malfoy was right. Maybe not going to school was really having an impact. That made her more panicked.
Her inner turmoil was evident on her face and Malfoy did not fail to notice it. "That straight As brain is not going to help you now." He moved closer to her and growled, "Tell me."
She silently shook her head.
"Have it your way then," he took a breath and Hermione scrunched her eyes closed, "avada-"
"Wait!" she cried
Malfoy raised an eyebrow, "well Granger?"
"I don't know where they are," she began, "but they will try and find me. All you have to do is wait for them to come to you…" she trailed off. She knew that she had spoken the truth and she just hoped that she could escape before they did come.
Malfoy laughed cruelly, "Potter always did like to play the hero, I am sure you are right. But he will come to me whether you are alive or not so really, I don't so any point in keeping you alive." He raised his wand once again.
Hermione thought quickly, "Harry has learnt a lot this past year, including a useful spell for telling if those close to you have been killed," she lied. "And if I am dead, do you really think he is going to bother to come here then? He has slightly bigger fish to fry."
She could tell that this had got him thinking. Lowering his wand slightly, he stared at her, as if just by looking at her he could ascertain whether she was telling the truth. What in Merlin's name was she going to do if he didn't believe her? She had to get back to see Harry and Ron; she had found the solution to something that had been puzzling them for months, something that was vitally important if they were ever going to defeat You-Know-Who. Something she had only just worked out. After what felt like half an hour but was probably much closer to half a minute Malfoy seemed to reach a conclusion.
"Alright Granger, I'll give you a week. After that your time is up. If they don't come then, I'll just assume that they are never coming and that you are disposable."
He grabbed hold of the top of her arm with his leather-gloved hand and she felt the familiar feeling of nausea associated with side-along apparition. Hermione fell to her knees when she once again felt solid ground beneath her feet. Head reeling, she looked up and saw what she could only assume was Malfoy Manor. It was exactly as she had always pictured it would be.
Large wrought iron gates were in front of her and beyond that lay a sweeping drive leading up to an imposing stone house. It was late at night but the moon was full and she could make out the outline of the house with its huge trees overshadowing it. A few windows were lit up but most were dark and she did not know if she was imagining but the whole place seemed to almost exude a ghostly, slightly greenish, tinge.
"Come on," he muttered, pulling her up and, still holding on to her arm, pushed the gates open. He pulled her roughly through and up the drive to his house. "Don't make a sound, mudblood, or it will be the last thing you do." Hermione thought she could detect just a hint of uncertainty behind those words, but remained silent.
After a minute or two they came up to the front door and Malfoy opened it and pushed her through. He then proceeded to lead her towards the stairs on the left of the strikingly furnished hallway. The floor was stone with a polar bear skin rug on the floor, the walls were a deep red and a chandelier hung from the ceiling above the sweeping mahogany staircase. But Hermione only had chance to glance at this before she was pushed down the rather less ostentatious stairs. There was no light coming from the bottom of them and she could only just see where the next step was. She reached the bottom without realising and almost lost her balance. Wordlessly Malfoy pulled her along the corridor, which twisted and turned until he came to an abrupt halt. He lit the end of his wand to examine the door which they were standing in front of him and looked like he was going to open it when he seemed to think better of it and started walking off again quickly, taking Hermione by surprise. He turned left then right, opened a small door and went down some more stairs. As they descended, Hermione could feel the air getting cooler and cooler, after all they must be two stories underground by now. The corridor at the foot of these stairs hardly looked like it belonged to a house at all and looked more like a dungeon, which, Hermione thought, it probably was. The ground was broken stone and the walls were made of flaking stone also with the occasional bracket in which to hang a light. It was damp and cobwebs hung from the ceiling.
Eventually, he stopped and looked at a dark wooden door to the left. Seeming more satisfied with this, he pulled it open and shoved her inside. "There is no way out, so I wouldn't even bother looking if I were you," he said in a near whisper, before closing the door behind him and Hermione was plunged into darkness. She had a second or two to examine her surroundings before the door was closed and what she had seen made her shiver. If she had thought that the corridor was like a dungeon then the cell in which she found herself was ten times worse. The floor was nothing more than compacted mud and the walls her so dirty that she had not really been able to see them. She doubted that the place had ever been cleaned. She took in a deep breath and almost choked on the smell and dirt. It was so cold in there, that all her hairs were standing on end and she began to shiver, wrapping her arms close around her to provide what little warmth she could. Finally, despair over took her and she crumbled to the floor, curled up and sobbed her heart out.