The Hunter And The Haunted

Part 11

The colours seem to bleed into each other when she finally came to.

Her eyes found a grey pair very close to her face. They blinked at her almost lazily, thick black hair tumbling over an almost carelessly handsome face. A gasp caught in her throat.

It wasn't... It couldn't be... He was dead.

The eyes blinked again and the face drew back, straightening and pushing the hair out of her face as Hermione's eyes refocused, realizing that it was in fact not a man, but rather a short girl with thick black hair was cropped a little below her shoulder length. Still, there was something incredibly familiar about the face that grinned at her.

"Perfect. She's up."

Hermione frowned at the unfamiliar American accent. The face may have seemed familiar, but she could have sworn she had never heard the voice before.

"Oh, good. I was worried you might end up snogging her to wake her up."

"For fuck's sake, Theo!"

Hermione recognized the other voice almost immediately.

Theo. Theodore Nott.

Slytherin. Pureblood. From a family of Death Eaters.

Hermione's blood ran cold. She remembered it all; Luna's limp body in her arms, seeing Millicent on the platform and stunning her five times in a row with her own wand, the Fiendfyre...

... And the Hounds.

She was among the Hounds.

She was at their mercy again.

Fear gnawed on the insides of her stomach and she shuddered.

She knew what was to follow.

....He was slicing her palms before he healed and sliced them again....

The memory dissolved into another more haunting one.

Hermione, he laughed, Hermione look!

He showed her large wads of her hair that he had ripped off her head. Blood was rivulets down the crown of her head, mixing with her tears and continued to stream down her face.

She was screaming. She writhed on the bed, grabbing fistfuls of the white sheets as if she relived her torture. Her back arched on the bed as she let out an unholy screech towards some unseen demon staring back at her from the intricate wooden carvings on the ceiling of the cabin. But Hermione's demons were inside, clawing at her mind through the horrors she had previously faced.

"Fuckin' hell, Theo. Do something!"

"I don't know what's wrong with her!"

"He'll be here any minute," She hissed at the taller boy, shaking him as she grabbed him by the front of his jacket.

"Maybe he can figure it out, Thea. You know- Ow! Quit it! You stepped on my feet!"

"Allow me," said a cooler, calmer voice as she stepped around the bickering pair and she tapped onto Hermione's forehead with her wand.

Hermione stilled. Her screaming stopped as a sudden warmth engulfed her body, making her light-headed and relaxed. Breathing heavily, she turned to look at Lisa Turpin, who picked a tissue from the bedside table and mopped Hermione's glistening forehead, speaking in a rather soothing voice.

"Feeling better, Hermione?"

Hermione nodded, staring at Lisa, unblinkingly. Lisa was being.. Kind?

Her voice was slightly hoarse when she spoke.

"Are you... trapped here as well?"

Lisa laughed. The dark-haired duo behind her, frozen in their argument as they watched Lisa work her magic, laughed with her.

"Yep, we're the big bad wolves holding poor Lisa hostage," Athena sniggered.

"And we bite. Scared, Granger?" Theo bared his pearly white teeth at Hermione, which earned him a jab in the ribs by Athena. He swore, frowning at the giggling girl as he rubbed his chest.

Lisa shook her head with a small grin, her wavy brown hair longer and wilder than it had been when they were back at Hogwarts.

"No, Hermione, I'm one of them."

Hermione could scarcely believe her ears.

"But... But... Ravenclaw..."

The trio laughed out loud again as if she'd cracked the funniest joke they'd heard in years.

"I have to assume that you idiots couldn't finish the spell like I asked you to. Must I do everything myself?" drawled a slightly exasperated Draco Malfoy as he stepped into the room, his hands deep in his pockets. He straightened before the trio, his eyes moving slowly from Theo to Athena and then to Lisa, all of whom fell silent and looked uncomfortable, avoiding his piercing glare. His eyes then turned to gaze at Hermione and he smirked.

He stood up tall in his black suit that stretched across the wide expanse of his large stature, an aura of danger about him. He let the silence linger just enough for Hermione's heart race to pick up again. Horror etched across her face while she looked him over, agape.

His smirk grew wider into a grin and she realized with certainty that it was him that she had seen before. How could she have not?

The broadness of the shoulders, the striking presence, the slight tilt of the head.

The Hunter.

Draco chuckled, and an unruly lock of his white blonde hair fell over his right eye.

"Well, hello, Granger. I see you've met my Hounds."