When We Were Beasts

Before: Part Eight

**TW: brief description of gore**

Hermione didn't get the chance to ask him how believing in Fate benefited him. She wanted to ask if he believed as a way to cope with his role in Voldemort's army, to view his decisions as not his own but one he had no control over.

She didn't get to ask him, because on the other side of the door they had finally reached was Marcus Flint's voice, bellowing out Draco Malfoy's name.

Malfoy and Hermione looked at each other.
He spoke first as he pulled her hand away from the door knob.
"Let me handle this." His tone was firm.
She didn't find any reason to disagree with him.
He released her hand and swung the door open, its hinges screaming their arrival to any who listened.

Once the door was shut, it dissolved into shadows and mist, sealing them inside.
Dread spread throughout Hermione's veins like a sickness.

Bare walls, torches speckled throughout the space, and blood splattered floors.
Hermione had barely taken it all in before something grabbed her from behind.

"Draco-" A clawed hand covered her mouth and cut off her screams. With their other hand they gripped her waist so tight she felt several of the claws threaten to break skin. Hermione whimpered.

"Granger! Granger, where are you?" Malfoy had pulled a torch from its place on the wall and swung it wildly, searching for her in the darkness.

The creature that gripped her backed against the wall, releasing her mouth and placing both hands on her shoulders. The strength she felt told her any attempt to escape would be futile. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the hand on her right was withered and blackened, almost leathery in places. Crusted blood coated the creatures knuckles and clawed fingertips. The smell of rotted flesh made her violently gag.

"Are you Hermione Granger?"
She turned to her left, searching in the darkness for the voice. It was the voice from earlier, Marcus Flint. She was sure of it. Hermione had heard that voice mock Harry enough to remember it.

Flint was in a similar bind, his shoulders pulled back to meet the chest of a monster. The creature that gripped him had to of have been of the same breed as the one that held her now. Small wings were tucked into its back, long ears protruded from its bald head, and as it turned to look at her, its eyes had no pupil or iris. Just two black holes that gobbled up any light that made the mistake of venturing too close. Pure, eternal darkness that threatened to swallow her whole stared back at her.
It was a darkness that promised the death of hope.

Tears began to roll down her cheeks.

Malfoy burst into the dark space. The flame from his torch burned her eyes.

"I knew it was you I heard!" Flint's voice was heavy with relief. He laughed."Malfoy, mate, you've got to help me. Hey, Malfoy-"
But Malfoy wasn't looking at Marcus Flint.
He was looking at her.

"Are you okay, Granger?" Malfoy brought the torch closer, observing where the monster had her in its clutches. He didn't move to free her.

Before Hermione could answer, the beasts spoke in unison.

"Son of Slytherin," they said. The torches vibrated as their words saturated the air. "In our grasp we hold your brother and a daughter of Gryffindor. To leave this room you have one simple choice: who would you rather see freed?"

So that was the test. Just like in the room with Hannah Abbott, one person would have to be left behind. A sacrifice had to be made in order for a door to appear.

Hermione truly wasn't sure who Malfoy would pick. Yes they had an alliance, and she was a much smarter witch than Flint was a wizard, but they had been housemates. She wasn't sure how loyal Malfoy would be to his house, to his brother, as the beasts had put it.
She began to sweat.

Before her eyes, she watched Malfoy begin to occlude. Any hint of blue dissipated like mist in sunlight, until nothing but cool, calculated grey remained as he eyed Flint, then Hermione, then the beasts.

"What happens to the person who remains with you?" Even his tone was colder, sharper.

Hot breath fanned the back of her neck as the creatures laughed in unison.

She bit down another whimper as she heard it lick its teeth.

"They become our dinner."

Flint thrashed against his restraints, and he screamed as the creature sunk its claws deep into his biceps.
Hermione's heart pounded so hard she wondered if it'd break skin and bleed down her chest. She kept so, so still. Her mind raced through potions that could cure an infection should this thing decide to press down further on her bones and make her bleed just like Flint was bleeding. She did not want to die of a festering wound should Malfoy choose her to live.

Malfoy continued to think on what decision would benefit him most. Hermione could see the wheels turning in his mind, weighing each option carefully on a scale only he could see. Physically, Flint would be the better partner. He was taller than Hermione and certainly stronger. He could also fly a broom without a second thought.
But Malfoy cared about more than just brute strength. It was why he had forced her into this alliance in the first place, because he saw her as an advantage. He knew she had been the brightest witch of their age, that she had evaded Death Eaters for months while hunting for horcruxes. That she could withstand torture and not let it break her.

He met her eyes, grey stone against freshly-tilled Earth.
She thought about pleading, but someone like Malfoy did not respond to begging.
Instead she raised her quivering chin, tears still falling.

A corner of his mouth twitched upward. He gave Hermione a minute nod. His eyes turned bright, the blue bleeding back in.
He had made up his mind.
With his tattered robe, vivid gaze, and shadows dancing on his face from the torchlight, Malfoy looked slightly manic.

"I've made my decision." His words cut through the air like sharpened blades. "I choose Hermione Granger. The Daughter of Gryffindor. Do what you wish with Marcus Flint."

Relief washed over her like cool rain.
Hermione didn't think about anything but that relief as the beast let her go and she fell into Malfoy's waiting arms.

She was shaking violently. Tears had finally stopped falling, but she was gasping for breath like she had sprinted a race.

In the back of her mind, she knew she should pull away. Especially when one of Malfoy's hands gently stroked her hair. Just once.
But she held onto him because she didn't trust her legs to work on their own, and the relief that he had chosen her made her dizzy.

"Thank you," she gasped. "Thank you, Malfoy."

"Leave while we still allow it." The beasts growled.

Hermione didn't look at Flint, but she couldn't block out his cries.

"You're going to leave me to die for a Mudblood?"

Malfoy wrapped an arm around her shoulders, moving her towards the new fireplace. The flames burned green.

Just like floo powder Hermione thought. At least this feels familiar.

"Draco! Don't leave me to them, I can help, I can be a better ally than her I swear-"

His words turned to chopped screams as the sick sound of crunching bone and shredded flesh wrapped around them. The creatures laughed as they ripped and tore into Marcus Flint. Soon after, the air was heavy with the stench of blood.

"Hurry now, Granger." Malfoy moved them closer to the floo. With each scream she leaned in closer to him. Drawing strength from his warmth.

Hermione didn't process the words on the mantle as they passed through the flames and Flint's screaming abruptly ended. But they felt very important, like a vision that follows you even after you wake.
Like an omen.

VITA SOMNIUM BREVE