Manacled (dramione)

Chapter 62: Flashback 37

July 2003

She woke with a start and found herself lying on a low, makeshift bed, Draco leaning over her.

She jerked back and then stilled and looked around, realising she was in his safe house in Whitecroft. She looked back at Draco, and everything came rushing back. She drew a sharp breath and felt as though she were being crushed to death. "What-What happened?"

His mouth twitched as he straightened and stared down at her. His expression was a mask, but she could see the restrained rage in his eyes.

"Despite"-the word was bitten out-"your reassurance to me yesterday, you were at Hogwarts. When I discovered it, I tried to grab you, and you proceeded to apparate into a creek. I had to stun you; I thought you might drown yourself before you realised it was me."

She sat up gingerly, still slightly sore and dazed. She shook her head, trying to clear it of the remaining grogginess. "You were masked; I didn't recognize you."

She looked down. Her clothes were dry. Her lungs felt clear, as though it had been a long time since she'd been knocked out. She glanced at her watch, and her stomach dropped sharply. Hours had passed. It was nearly evening.

"How long did you leave me here, unconscious?" Her voice was disbelieving as she looked up at Draco.

His expression was cold. "I wasn't available to disappear with you. Once I had the water out of your lungs and you were safe, I had to return to fulfill my duties."

Hermione looked away.

Harry.

Ron.

Almost everyone had been at Hogwarts. Aside from Severus, she might be the only remaining active member of the Order.

She pressed her lips together for a minute, collecting herself before she looked up. "I don't understand. What happened? How did they find our prison?"

He looked away, his hands were clenched into fists. She could almost feel the seething rage rippling around him.

"I don't know the details of how precisely it occurred. I told you, the Dark Lord is suspicious now. He barely confides in anyone, and he provides different information to each general in an attempt to identify where the intelligence is getting out. I was informed of ten different plans for attack, and none of them were legitimate. I do know he was in Sussex last night, working alone according to all the reports I had. By the time I learned we had your prison, the Resistance was already at Hogwarts. There was no opportunity to send word."

Hermione sat on the edge of the bed as she absorbed it. She felt too dazed and devastated to even think clearly.

Draco was seething. His hands kept opening and closing as though he were suppressing the urge to break something.

He stood beside her for another moment and then turned and began pacing around the room as though he were a caged animal. "I thought this was supposed to be the Order's final blow? Did Potter think letting the Dark Lord kill him would somehow win the war? Or did he just decide to give up?"

Hermione twitched.

"Harry was a horcrux," she said in a dead voice.

Draco frozen and looked at her sharply. She dropped her eyes and stared at her lap. Her jeans were torn on both knees.

She swallowed and drew her feet back. "I didn't know-until today. I only realised it after the battle had started. There was a prophecy made twenty years ago, 'either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives.' Harry thought if all the other horcruxes were destroyed, that having the Dark Lord kill him would cause them both to die."