Dies Irae

Right, first up, I am going to finish Mission and Rules. I am in need of a little break from smut (I know, I must be ill!), hence the following - is not my usual lighthearted banter, consider yourself warned.

Big thanks and kisses to Shem for betaing and listening to me rant about it!

Summary: With the Dark Lord in control, Hermione must fight not just for her life, but for the future of the wizarding world.

Not quite a dark fic...how about a smokey grey one?


Dies Irae


Her bruised fingers ached mercilessly as she scrubbed at the flagstones. Slowly the blood was lifting but not quickly enough for her liking. She knew why they did this to her, made her clean up the mess after their...games; it was a tormenting reminder of the power they held over her, of what could happen should she not comply with their demands. She knew better though, for as long as she refused to give them that one morsel of knowledge they so desired she was, to some degree, safe.

Crouching back on her haunches for a desperately needed physical and mental break, she happened to glance upon her stained hands. A watery sheen of blood coated them. The hands of a killer, or at least they might as well have been. It was her fault the bloodshed continued. Her loyalty was diminishing, her will to even continue living all but gone. What was left of her with the determination to fight wondered if it were all in vain - all so one boy, the one foretold of in the prophecy, could live. That was if what he was doing could even be considered living. All it would take to stop the death and destruction of so many, or so they would have her believe, would be the death of one boy.

\"Girl!\"

She leapt to her feet and looked around tentatively, glancing the hooded face for a brief moment before quickly averting her eyes. It was no longer just what was demanded of her; it was instinct. She was too broken, too degraded to fight any longer.

\"The Dark Lord commands your presence.\"

Fear gripped her very soul. She knew what was to come - it was inevitable. It always was, yet there was nothing she could do. To resist would only make the Dark Lord angrier, the destruction of her very being more final.

Solemnly she nodded, her head hung as if she were being led to her execution and, in many ways, she was. Her body would survive, but part of her would never recover.

Her footsteps fell heavily along the corridor she had come to know as the Dark Mile. It was the road to death and inner destruction. The road to madness and sanity rolled into one, paved with cold flagstones and dripping with slimy moss.

The temperature dropped markedly along the Dark Mile. A biting cold that hit right to the very bone, seeping in to a level beyond the physical.

Her virtual hangman, the hooded figure that flanked her, stopped in his tracks at the open doorway and dropped to his knees, his head bowed in the direction of a high backed, ornate wooden chair. Beside the chair, utterly motionless and utterly emotionless, stood yet another hooded black figure. The stench emanating from the room was almost unbearable, causing the girl’s stomach to churn. Today would be worse than normal and this was indeed what was now considered normal.

\"That will be all, McNair.\"

The voice was an unearthly hiss. A terrible noise not of this place, yet all-encompassing of it. A noise that echoed throughout the halls carried by the cold stones that both imprisoned and protected.

She heard her escort rise to his feet and watched on as he backed out of the room, though she needn’t have looked to be aware of his actions. The laws of this land demanded him to; to turn his back to the Dark Lord would be considered the ultimate heresy.

\"Come closer.\" Its voice was not loud, it needn’t be. The girl often wondered if it even spoke out loud, if it didn’t simply talk straight into her rotting mind. Festering there to pull her apart from the inside. No place was safe and no place was sacred.

With her head hung not in respect, but in the way of the damned, the girl made her way to stand behind the Dark Lord. The stench of rotting flesh filled her nostrils all too familiarly.

\"Where is he?!\"

The hiss sent cold shivers throughout the girl’s body. The sense of impending doom growing exponentially. She would not speak the truth though, at least not today. They had yet to break her that far. She would protect him with her life, and for as long as she protected him she would remain alive. They needed her, if only to get to him.

\"I do not know,\" she whispered meekly.

\"Time grows short!\" Scaly hands slammed down on the arms of the chair, tinged green talons digging at the wood, causing it to bleed as flesh. \"You are foolish. You could save yourself! Yet you continue to deny us such a simple piece of information. It could save you. You could join us - you could become one with us. To rule for all eternity.\"

The dark figure to the Dark Lord’s side glanced at his master then, with a sense of smugness and power, he turned back to face the girl.

“Really now, are all these deaths worth the life of one idiotic boy?” In contrast to his master, this voice was nothing short of silky. “You could have it all.”

With a sudden surge of defiance, the girl lifted her head to stare straight at the Dark Lord’s protege.

\"I will never, never join you.\" Her words came quietly, yet powerfully. Her loyalty was still there, albeit submerged in doubt.

\"Then, your world of torment shall continue.\" The girl heard the Dark Lord, that thing, shift in his seat. \"Malfoy, do with her as you will.\"

The Dark Lord’s sentry rose his head in triumph, his hood slipping back revealing a perfectly refined face and a glimpse of pure blonde. The irony was not lost on the girl - that this man that could look so angelic yet was nothing less than pure evil embodied.

Then he was upon her, slamming her against the cold floor, tearing her soul from her body, defiling and disgracing her. Yet she did not scream, nor did she try to fight; it would only please him to see her pitiful protests, and hence please the Dark Lord.

Once more, Hermione suffered in silence as yet another piece of her very being died.