The Year Before Tomorrow

Year III- Invidious Duplicity

Chapter Fifteen- Year III- Invidious Duplicity

Before she even opened her eyes Hermione noticed the unnatural chill of the air around her and the roughness of the stone beneath her head. She was still in Azkaban, then. Had the year reset, or had she just passed out? Hermione held her wrists before her and squinted in the dim light. The marks were gone, though she could still see blood smeared across her skin. Looking up, she saw that the door of her cell was closed, but there was no indication that it was locked. She stood with no little unsteadiness and pushed on the bars. It swung open with a whining creak. Hermione cringed.

Several Dementors floated past her. She wasn't a prisoner anymore, and they had little interest in her, but their presence still froze her insides and deadened her thoughts. The air was thick, and she struggled to get it into her lungs.

Ron appeared in front of her, kneeling with one hand on the ground to steady himself. He said nothing, only looked at her with such a cruel expression that she was forced to avert her gaze.

The other inmates stared at her with hollow, haunted eyes. Hermione imagined her own looked the same, despite her body resetting. The mind would not be so easy to heal.

She tried to remember in which direction the exit was. The air was foggy and cold. Hermione could see only a few yards in front of her. One foot inched forward uncertainly. The other soon followed. Her arms raised in front of her, she picked her way down the hallway. There were no walls to use to support herself, only the freezing metal bars of the cells.

"You don't deserve this. You don't deserve to be free."

"Sh-sh-shut up-p," Hermione stammered, teeth chattering so hard she feared they would rattle out of her skull.

Ron walked just behind her. She could sense his presence, and she did her best to ignore him.

First her foot, then her hands, made contact with the door. Hermione nearly cried with relief. Ron faded out of existence.

Once she was out of the direct vicinity of the Dementors her vision cleared drastically. It was so bright, and she wasn't even outside yet. Hermione shaded her face with one hand.

It didn't take long to make it out a series of exits. She emerged onto a beach. It should have been even a little bit warm, since it was June, but the presence of even one Dementor sucked all the warmth out of the air. There were thousands in residence. Waves crashed violently onto the shore. Dark clouds roiled, barely letting any light through. Even outside of the prison it was a miserable place.

Hermione quickly became aware that she had a very large problem: she was stuck on an island with no magic and no boat. Did it really matter that she was free, if she would die just outside the prison?

No. Death wasn't an option. She had a job to do.

Surely there were human guards there? Someone had to supervise the Dementors and manage visitors. And there would almost certainly be house elves, to make the meals and clean. Indignation bubbled up inside of her at the thought. Innocent creatures, forced to live with Dementors? She didn't want to believe it possible that anyone would be so evil as to do that, but knowing the Ministry she wouldn't put it past them.

Carefully making her way barefoot around the perimeter of the prison, she searched for any indication of a main entrance. Just as she did, she realized that she was still wearing her prison uniform. Even though she wasn't in the system, they wouldn't check that before Stunning her on sight.

She ducked behind a large rock. No one could spot her before she was prepared.

What could she do? There was obviously nothing around to cover herself with; the landscape was bare but for the smattering of jagged stones. She couldn't Transfigure it or Summon something else. Even if she'd had her wand she had no magic.