Be Careful in the Dark

A/N No warnings needed for this chapter.


Nervous whispers around the corner brought Hermione’s throbbing headache back up to full force. Three days of avoiding the Great Hall at meals and she still couldn’t escape the constant gossip about Draco Malfoy’s death.

“…how is possible?”

“….something in his brain…”

“…maybe it’s hereditary…”

“…heard he was starkers!”

Every time she heard that one she winced. How sloppy was that? She left him naked. She had been so careful and still…something so obvious had escaped her.

“…these things run in the family…”

“…maybe He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named killed him for working with Dumbledore.”

This one made her eyes roll and was the one spot of humor in her otherwise panicked, claustrophobic days.

“…Lucius was crying…”

“…Lord Malfoy is very upset…”

These rumors bounced around the halls with greater frequency. Very upset was an understatement. Lucius was livid, apoplectic with fury, incandescent in his rage. This, more than anything else, was what turned Hermione’s skin ashen and turned her stomach into a knot.

Lucius was utterly unconvinced that Draco’s death had been an accident. As far as she could tell, he was the only one.

The boys thought it was concern over the fate of Ron’s wand…now mysteriously missing. She let them. How could she explain what she had done? She couldn’t even explain it to herself and she had been there for every humiliating, degrading second of Malfoy’s attentions.

“I don’t care what that fool says!” Lucius voiced hissed from around the corner and Hermione stopped stone still in the middle of the hallway. Inside, her whole mind and body screamed for her to run away. Every ounce of strength poured into remaining absolutely still.

“Lucius, the loss is terrible. I mourn with you. But I examined his body myself!” Severus Snape’s voice joined Lucius’ and despite her terror she felt a flare of pride. Severus Snape, the teacher she feared more than any other and whose approval she craved, had been taken in by her poison. It was such a good poison.

That is such a sick thing to think. I am so fucking sick.

“I will take this building apart stone by stone! I will find who killed my son and then they will pay for a thousand lifetimes.” Lucius voice was cold, ice driven by a winter storm, but it broke on the word “son.” Hermione’s skin broke out in goose bumps and she could not stop her body from convulsing in fear. Unlike his son, Lucius Malfoy was actually as dangerous as he thought he was.

Snape’s response was lost as the pair moved farther away. Seconds, minutes, hours later she ran away in terror. She burst into the nearest girl’s bathroom and dry heaved over the toilet. She hadn’t eaten enough to actually vomit though, god, her body tried.

Finally, she pieced her control back together and stopped shivering. If she wore another sweater she was going to look like a marshmallow…not that it mattered anyway. She rose unsteadily to her feet and went the one place she felt safe: the library.

Books are exactly what they appear to be. Even magic books obey a certain set of rules. She chose a book she had a read a dozen times already and let the empty words sweep over her, smooth her frazzled nerves.

Three days later, the hall began to buzz again. Death Eaters had set several explosions on London’s Underground. No one knew why for sure but as far as the Wizarding world could tell, only muggles had been killed.

Hermione bit her fingernails down to the quick. There was something off about the whole attack. It wasn’t like anything Voldemort had done thus far.

The next week, Harry and Ron sat down next to her in the Gryffyndor common room.

“There’s been another attack. Muggle-focused again.” Harry muttered so that only Hermione and Ron could hear him.

“We overheard Dumbledore talking. It’s gotta be Lucius.” Ron was also muttering, less subtly than Harry.

Hermione felt her stomach drop into her knees.

“How do you know?” She hissed back at both of them.

“We don’t. Not for sure. But this is so not Tom’s style. McGonagall thought it might be Lucius.” Harry said, picking at his fingernails and trying to look like he was talking about Quidditch.

“Why?” Hermione managed to squeeze the word out but the world was white around the edges and a dull roar started in her ears.

“Dunno. Might be because he still pissed.” Ron yawned widely and scratched his head.

Hermione nodded dumbly. This is all my fault.

“We’re going to go prowl around…see if we can hear anything else. Want to join us?” Harry asked, cocking one head to look at her. She shook her head and stared at her hands. “Are you ok?” Harry asked softly.

“Yeah.” Her voice cracked on the word.

“We’re here if you need us, ok?” Ron added.

The two stood and left the room, heads bent together as they whispered. Hermione put her book down and went up to her dormitory.

What am I going to do? He’ll kill me. He’ll find out eventually and then I will die. Or he won’t, and other people will instead. What am I going to do?

The thoughts tumbled through her brain, each so close to the one before she couldn’t keep them straight. Panic and fear trembled in her chest. In the end, she bailed on her classes for two solid days. She just sat there, curled up in an armchair in her room, staring off into space. Ron and Harry moved in and out of her vision and she did not really listen to anything they said. Finally, she threw up magical shields around her and tuned everything out. She had to think. She needed to work it out.

Think, god damn you.

Pulling out a pen and several pieces of paper she started working the arithmancy figures. No matter what she did, the array of patterns for the future remained the same: death and destruction for everyone she cared about. She threw them in the fire and began to pace.

You’re missing something...just like you overlooked Lucius’ emotions when you did your earlier calculations. A tiny thought niggled at the back of her mind and she ignored it, trying to let it bloom fully. Finally, she stopped staring into space…rolling the idea over and over in her mind. Holy shit. That might work.

She sat down and ran the calculations again. The possible paths the future could take wriggled in entirely new patterns, paths full of choice. She blinked. Who would have thought something so small could make such a difference.

Hermione burned the paper and the pen, no need to leave it lying about for anyone to spell out its secrets.

She dropped the shields, a plan in place. It wasn't rock solid and she would have to do a great deal of research but it had possibilities. And, by all the gods, she was going to finish what she started. Then she through the dark dorm room, down into the kitchen and ate enough food to kill a horse.