Lost Image | dramione

18 | the last hope

When she woke up, her senses came back in small, fuzzy bits. She was aware of a cool floor beneath her cheek- tile, or maybe marble?

She was also aware that her stomach was sore, as if someone had kicked her while she was out... which was likely.

She noticed that there was none of the instant alertness involved in innervating someone, so she had to assume she had drifted back into consciousness on her own. This being the case, she worked to control her breathing, listening to what was happening around her without opening her eyes.

"...bring her here? Would have been better not to..."

"Why? We would have used Yaxley's place if you had got to her before Hogwarts let out for the summer- that Ministry raid made it impossible to return there as a headquarters."

"I understand, father, but our house...?"

"No one will track her here. Now stop arguing in front of our guests."

Hermione could tell, by the subtle shuffling of feet and whispered conversation, that there were many people in the room she was lying in. The two talking... one of them was very familiar. Theodore Nott. Most likely he was talking to his father, which meant they had to be in the Nott family home.

"I hate to interrupt, gentlemen," said Benjamin, "but we are on a schedule, here. There are many steps to this kind of spell, and we only have an hour until midnight."

She tried not to panic. They knew about her ring, which would have been the last hope she had left- if they had forgotten, then she might have been transported via her own personal portkey to Malfoy Mansion at midnight. To safety.

But that obviously wasn't going to happen. Whatever the men were going to do, they would do it in the next hour.

"It seems to me that I heard a rumor about the Dark Lord accomplishing this by accident- how involved can it possibly be?"

"The Dark Lord was a much more powerful wizard than anyone alive today," said a voice Hermione didn't recognize. "We can't expect to measure up to his greatness- we can only hope to copy his accomplishments to whatever level we are capable. This is just the first of many, my friends." He was talking to the crowd at large, now. "Just think- no more worries about the Aurors. By doubling our chance at life, we are doubling our strength."

His words almost made her give up her ruse and open her eyes in her shock. She was having difficulty controlling her breathing, her heart speeding up in her panic. She had a pretty good idea what was going on, now, and what her fate would be. She had to think clearly, to come up with a plan...

"The Dark Lord is gone, and many treat what remains as a joke. Many families," she could almost hear the sneer in his voice, "have abandoned the cause. Blood-traitors, all of them. This mudblood bitch is the result of the oh-so-wise decision by our beloved Ministry to hand over the unclean to proper wizards. But not everyone took advantage of such a deal... the Malfoys were in a position to be given the most influential mudblood in the war, and they threw away the chance to deal with us."

There was a general hissing and mumbling among the crowd. Clearly they were not fans of the new image the Malfoys were trying to cultivate for themselves.

'Keep talking,' Hermione prayed silently as an idea began to take hold. She had one chance, and it would involve her moving. She began to slowly, slowly inch one of her splayed hands over in front of her, working to reach her other hand...

"I will be the first to create a Horcrux since the fall of the Dark Lord, but I promise you my brothers: before the year is out, we will all have our own back-up plans that will ensure our victory in future endeavors."