Hermione stared at her wand, clutched in Tennant's fist—the carved tip protruding between his thick fingers. The pink bed curtains were drawn back, and the light from the floor lamp illuminated Tennant's coarse, as if hewn from stone, face.
Hermione suppressed a tremor in her fingers.
"Give me back my wand, Rowle," she said calmly.
Tennant just moved closer, his half-naked body and disgusting smirk seeming like a morbid parody of Draco.
"Tut-tut," he chided her. "Now tell me, what's the trick. A Portkey?"
Hermione lifted her head but remained silent.
"I was looking for you tonight," Tennant ran a thick finger along her throat. "Wanted to deliver a little message to Draco."
She couldn't help but flinch away from his touch in disgust. Let him talk. Stall for time.
"But I only found that little Ravenclaw." He shook his head. "Too bad I didn't have time for her."
Hermione swallowed, but didn't look away. The wizard still held her vine wand tightly, and she was not yet ready to try a non-verbal Accio.
Tennant's eyes swept over the witch, his lips pursed in distaste at the sight of her pajamas.
"Is this how you dress for him, Hermione? Pathetic bastard." He sneered contemptuously, looking around the bed. "I suppose this pink misery is for you. Damn, he's a total nothing this year."
"Draco will be here any minute," Hermione couldn't help but say.
"Unlikely." Tennant twirled her wand in his fingers. "Draco's busy, babysitting his little Ravenclaw. Don't worry. I'll find something to occupy you with."
He reached for her again—this time to grab a long lock that had fallen out of her braid. First he pulled it gently, almost lazily, then more insistently, pulling Hermione closer. His perfume—a thick, musky scent—overwhelmed her.
"Draco rushed to her right away," Tennant whispered. "Pure-blood always shows its true colors, oh yes."
"I doubt Malfoy would have gone where you sent him," Hermione said. And then she blinked. "But he didn't know it was you, did he?"
"Clever," Tennant snarled, still pulling her hair, and Hermione couldn't tell if he was complimenting himself or her. Most likely himself—what a maniacal, cruel, narcissistic, sex-obsessed Death Eater...
"Funny," he continued. "I usually don't waste time talking."
Tennant let go of her hair and leaned back, looking ridiculous on the pink floral pillows. He lay lazily sprawled out, one arm behind his head, displaying mounds of muscle under a thick layer of dark hair.
"Hermiooone Greeeanger," Tennant drawled, "in the Slytherin dungeons. At night. Ready to beg to be screwed by a Death Eater. Who would have thought?"
"Who were you when you talked to Draco?" she asked.
"The crazy little Ravenclaw. A blonde, juicy." He sighed regretfully. "Never any time for pleasure. A moon. A brilliant move."
Tennant smirked as if he had heard her thoughts, and Hermione knew she had to talk, say anything, just to distract him. But the quiet panic pulsing in her veins was growing, and now she was painfully aware of the physical closeness of the half-naked Tennant and his promises: I found better prey, Mudblood... I'll make you beg...
Hermione abruptly threw her hand forward, splaying her fingers.
"Accio my wand!"
The vine wand flew out of Tennant's fingers, but he intercepted it with his other hand, demonstrating an impressive reaction time for his size. The Slytherin slammed her wand against the pristine white bedpost, and Hermione heard a distinct crack. Her heart seemed to break along with the wand. Oh no!
But she had no time to grieve—Tennant fell on her with his full weight, knocking the air out of her lungs. He grabbed her hand, and she felt his tongue on her palm.
"Wandless magic, hmmm," he whispered in her ear, and his thick reddish hair blocked her view. "Try that again, Mudblood, and I'll break every one of your delicate little fingers."
Hermione swallowed but said nothing. Tennant's whisper, she suddenly realized, was much scarier than any growl.
"Let's not fight," he said, lifting his head and beginning to pull off her pajama top with trembling hands. "If you like Slytherins, you don't have to limit yourself to Draco."
She tried to break free but couldn't move, pinned by this living boulder. His muscles seemed carved from granite. Then the pressure of his weight lessened slightly—she heard fabric rip and felt rough fingers dig into her breast.
"I heard you moaning his name—that morning," Tennant breathed. Steel fingers squeezed her throat. "Now say my name."
"Rowle."
"The name, you sly bitch," his thumb pressed into her larynx.
"Torfin!" she gasped. Fury flashed in his eyes. "Ten-Tennant!"
"Better," Tennant smirked, instantly returning to a playful mood, like a cruel child toying with a caught insect. "And where are those delightful moans? What was Draco doing to you that morning, huh?" Tennant's lips slid down her skin. "I think I know."
In a panic, Hermione threw her hand to the side and hit the bedpost. The dark wood, covered in white paint, seemed to pulsate with magic. Hermione tried to think clearly, despite the horror that flooded her from Tennant's touch, his slobbery lips roaming over her body, his fingers... African dark wood... Oh, Merlin, he was almost... incredibly magical... Touching the wood was almost like contact with...
"Stupefy!" she screamed, clinging to the bedpost, and Tennant was thrown back.
Of course, he wasn't truly Stunned, but his grip loosened, and Hermione rolled off the bed onto the floor.
She scrambled to her feet, looking for a weapon. The little elfin lights in the bedroom twinkled merrily at her.
"Be careful," Tennant growled. "This room is not friendly to Mudbloods."
Hermione's mind raced. Tennant didn't know that Tallie had disarmed the traps. He also didn't realize that every cursed object had a glowing mark on it. She took a step back, which elicited a low chuckle from Tennant. He slid off the bed and now stood casually beside it, leaning against the carved bedpost and twirling his wand in his fingers.
"If I were you, I wouldn't take the next step," he drawled. "Tar trap."
Even though Hermione knew the trap was gone, a shiver ran down her spine. Such traps slowly suffocated their victim. Remembering walking around the room on the night of the Ravenclaw party, Hermione felt cold. Draco was so angry then—and rightfully so.
She scanned the room for an exit, a clue, anything that could help. The room seemed dark and sinister even in the bright light of the lamp. Only the crackling fire in the fireplace, the quiet ticking of the grandfather clock, and Tennant's heavy breathing broke the silence. Even the silver inkwells were still. Draco's bed gaped like the wide, pink maw of a huge green serpent.
Hermione looked down—her pajama top was torn, hanging by the last button. She pulled the torn fabric closed at her throat, desperately trying to figure out how to distract Tennant and make him loosen his grip on her wand. She had to act fast—before this thick-headed bastard decided to use the Cruciatus or Imperius Curses.
"Why?" she asked, pleased with the emotionless tone of her voice. "Why put up anti-Muggleborn defenses in this room?"
"So they don't get in here and steal our magic," Tennant replied, as if explaining the obvious to a child. He seemed to genuinely believe it.
Hermione scoffed.
"Keep your magic, Rowle. Mine's better."
Tennant's face darkened.
"Your magic is dirty, bitch, just like your blood."
He took a step forward, extending his hand, but Hermione reacted instantly. Jumping sharply to the right, she created a small white cloud of smoke with a deft flick of her fingers. The massive wizard froze in surprise.
"Accio wand!" she squeaked. Please. But instead of Tennant's wand, Draco's harlequin wand flew into her hand from a dresser drawer.
"Expelli..." Tennant began, but Hermione was quicker.
"Petrificus Totalus!" Hermione waved the checkered wand, but to her horror, Tennant was not paralyzed by the curse. Instead, his powerful legs became thin and wavy, and although the change in weight caused the wizard to crash to the floor, his hands remained mobile. The Jelly-Legs Jinx? How did that happen? Hermione had never in her life messed up the Full Body-Bind Curse—it was her signature spell!
"Stupefy!" she shouted, but instead of stunning Tennant, the wand turned his hair into a flowerbed of daisies.
"What's wrong with you?!" she yelled at the wand, which seemed to droop in her hand.
Tennant didn't hesitate. A flick of his wand—and the silver mirror Hermione had once admired rose from the dresser. It spun through the air, heading towards her, glittering in the lamp light, ready to shatter into a thousand pieces and cover her skin with cursed wounds. Hermione dove behind the sofa as glass shattered.
She surfaced just before a string of glass beads flew at her—"They're a Muggle choker"—and Hermione raised the harlequin wand.
"Protego!" she shrieked. A huge yellow balloon with a smiley face jumped out of the tip of the wand. The beads wrapped around it, the balloon burst, and the beads scattered across the floor.
"Impedimenta!" Tennant snarled from the floor, and a powerful spell hit Hermione, causing her to petrify.
She thought she had seen Tennant enraged before, but upon seeing his reflection in the wardrobe mirror, he literally began to foam at the mouth. The wizard instantly Vanished the daisies from his head with a spell, restored his legs, and moved toward Hermione again. The floor seemed to shake under his heavy steps.
Hermione watched him helplessly, her hand still extended for the next spell.
"Are you laughing at me?!" Tennant roared. "Are you, a Mudblood, laughing at me?!"
He ripped the checkered wand from her stiff fingers, and she heard it crackle in his hand. Tennant threw the wand away.
"Well, it looks like you like it rough," he smirked nastily.
A Blasting Curse threw her across the room. Hermione hit the stone fireplace and fell on top of the fire poker and tongs.
The impact, however, also broke the Impediment Jinx Tennant had placed on her—she could move again. Hermione awkwardly got to her knees, again without a wand.
Tennant exploded the floor lamp between them, plunging the room into an eerie semi-darkness.
"It's a full moon tonight," the massive wizard snarled.
Hermione strained her eyes, trying to make out her surroundings. A row of windows near the ceiling now cast bright white squares of light on the carpet, dividing the space like a chessboard. Hermione knelt in one light square, while Tennant stood frozen in his square, bathed in harsh light, ten feet away from her. Check.
"Do you know what a full moon means, you scum?" he rasped, wincing either in pain or concentration.
"No!" Hermione gasped. He wasn't... The wizard stepped back and affixed his wand to a table with a Sticking Charm. Tennant's head twitched from side to side, and his body shuddered.
Hermione frantically tried to think of something, anything, but all thoughts scattered when Tennant, lit by the moonlight, began to transform. Reddish-brown fur sprouted all over his face and body, his ears sharpened, and his head stretched into an elongated wolf snout. In less than a minute, a huge wolf with its tongue hanging between its fangs was crouched in front of the table. The beast's eyes gleamed coldly in the moonlight.
The wolf crept closer to Draco's bed. The beast's dark eyes shimmered in the silvery light. Draco's bed.
Hermione scrambled to her feet.
"Accio Draco's bedpost!" she yelled. With a sharp crack, a piece of white-painted wood broke off, revealing the dark core, and flew towards her.
But the wolf, with a flick of its tail, threw the fragment aside. Now only six feet separated Tennant and Hermione. With a growl, the wolf nudged a chair, tossing it aside with a single movement of its massive head.
With a powerful kick of its hind leg, the wolf also knocked over the sofa. Now only the chessboard-like pattern of light on the carpet separated Hermione from the monster. An image of Lavender, mutilated by Fenrir Greyback, bleeding in the Great Hall, flashed before her eyes. His hot breath in the Forest of Dean, his greedy whisper, thirsting for her blood at Malfoy Manor. It was as if she were reliving her nightmare.
Hermione tried to summon the dark wood fragment again—and again the wolf lazily tossed it aside. Hermione managed to light a tiny blue flame on the carpet, but the wolf ignored it. The flame went out. How stupid she had been, thinking the war was over. She should have practiced wandless magic every day. Ginny would be so disappointed.
Hermione pulled a silver-handled fire poker from its stand. The wolf's eyes rolled madly, and she prepared for the attack. One last chance...
BANG! The bedroom door exploded with a crash, and Draco appeared in the doorway—with a completely wild look on his face.
"NO!" he roared, aiming at Tennant. "AVADA KEDAVRA!"
The wolf froze, but nothing happened—no flash of green light. Draco was stunned in shock.
The enraged wolf lunged at Hermione, its jaws wide and claws splayed, and she desperately swung the fire poker. Draco threw himself between them—the poker whistled and hit his jaw, and the wolf sank its fangs into his shoulder, tearing his flesh with its claws. Draco screamed and collapsed—the wolf leaped back with a growl.
"STAND DOWN!" another voice roared.
Harry, wand at the ready, burst into the room. The wolf turned, growling, towards the young Auror, bloody foam dripping from its snout. Hermione struck the monster's head with all her might with the fire poker—the iron rod vibrated in her hand just as Harry roared:
"STUPEFY!"
Tennant crashed to the carpet with such force that the walls shook and the crystal trinkets on the shelves rattled. Hermione threw the fire poker aside and fell to her knees.
"Draco!"
She rolled him onto his back—his jacket was torn and soaked through with sticky blood. Draco was unconscious. Tennant bit him. Tennant transformed and bit him. So now Draco... Tennant bit him...
"Hermione!" She felt Harry shaking her shoulder. "Are you okay?"
She jerked her shoulder, pulling free of his grip.
"I've read that if you give Wolfsbane immediately after a bite, it can weaken..." Hermione lifted her head. "A Bezoar!" she gasped. "It neutralizes poisons, so why not werewolf saliva?"
She aimed the dark wood wand at Draco's wound.
"Werewolf saliva... we can draw it out, maybe it's not too late..."
"Hermione..." Harry strained. "It's too late, it's a magical reaction, the process has already begun, he might even... he might even transform right now." That's what Harry wanted to say. The moonlight still flooded the room.
"No!" Hermione grabbed Draco's wand and conjured a bandage that wrapped tightly around his shoulder. The bandages instantly soaked with blood, which looked black in the moonlight. Blood streamed from the corners of Draco's mouth, and she prayed it was from the blow of the fire poker and not internal injuries.
Hermione glanced briefly at the huge wolf—it lay motionless in a pool of its own blood, in which clots of white saliva floated.
"I'll take Draco to Madam Pomfrey." Hermione jumped up and levitated his unconscious body into the air.
"Hermione!" Harry shouted. "Your shirt!"
"We can't waste time!"
"Hermione... you... he..."
"I'm fine," she snapped. "Accio Draco's jumper. Accio Draco's slippers."
The items flew into her hands. She pulled on the black jumper and slipped her feet into the embroidered slippers, which magically shrank to her size.
"We need to get both of them to the infirmary," she said. The pink blanket flew into the air and wrapped itself around Draco. "But we can't be seen—otherwise we'll lose time explaining."
Harry blinked, seeing the color of the blanket, then nodded.
"We'll use Disillusionment Charms."
"Give me the cloak," Hermione demanded.
Harry tossed her the shimmering fabric, and Hermione covered Draco with it. Glancing at the shattered door, she said:
"It's a miracle half the dungeons haven't rushed here already."
"There's a separate corridor leading to this bedroom," Harry explained, casting Disillusionment Charms on both of them and Tennant. "I'll go first."
Hermione heard Harry whisper a levitation spell and saw a ripple pass through the air near the door. Taking the edge of the Invisibility Cloak wrapped around Draco, she guided him in front of her.
Harry exited the bedroom into the corridor, and she followed, orienting herself by his footsteps and the ripple in the air near the walls. They walked down a straight, torch-lit corridor to a narrow green door.
"Ophi-fig-us," Harry said. The door didn't budge. "O-faggy-isss." Damn it!
"Harry!" she hissed. "What are you doing?"
"The password. Some kind of Greek snake name, I always forget. Ophio-fallos!"
"For Godric's sake, Harry—Ophiophagus!"
The door creaked open, revealing a short passage that then turned a corner. Hermione followed in Harry's footsteps, feeling her heart pound madly under Draco's soft jumper.
The dungeons were plunged in semi-darkness, the corridors twisting, filled with wavering shadows—as if invisible Slytherins were crowding around. Hermione mentally noted the path they had taken, but that wouldn't help them get out if Harry got lost. And Draco... what would she see if she pulled off the Invisibility Cloak? A wizard or a wolf? Would he even be alive? She squeezed the silky fabric in her hand but didn't dare to check.
What Hermione feared soon happened. Harry's footsteps stopped at a fork.
"I think we took a wrong turn," he muttered.
"Harry, let's..." She was about to suggest sending a Patronus to Slughorn, but a disgusting dry rustling sound made her fall silent.
Red eyes on a swaying, massive head appeared before them. They had stumbled upon one of the Slytherin pythons. At first, Hermione thought the snake was hissing at them, but then a duller, echoing sound made her realize that Harry had spoken in Parseltongue and the python was answering him.
"He won't lead us," Harry said irritably. "He knows we're hiding Malfoy under the cloak. It's personal..."
"Brackium Emendo!" Hermione said loudly, remembering Draco's story. She dropped the Disillusionment Charm and aimed the dark wood wand at the snake. "Tell him if he wants to keep his bones this time, he'll lead us out."
A furious argument in Parseltongue followed, and the python shook its head, turning.
"He agrees," Harry said. "What was that..."
Hermione made herself invisible again.
"Follow him, Harry!"
The turns in the corridors became steeper and more frequent, and Hermione began to feel anxious—would the snake lead them deeper into the dungeons, despite the threats?
"It's okay," Harry said. "The maze here isn't simple, but I think we're going up." He spoke as if trying to convince himself.
"We need to hurry!" She clutched the cloak covering the levitating Draco in front of her. How much time had passed?
Finally, they reached a short staircase. The sound of their steps on the stone floor echoed loudly in the corridor, and the last turn led to a carved door. The python was about to slither back into the maze, but it stopped, hearing Harry's hiss. It reluctantly coiled up at the door, looking almost annoyed.
Harry opened the door a crack—just a sliver—and Hermione barely suppressed a groan. The younger students were already in bed, but the common room was full of older students, including Blaise Zabini and Theo Nott. Millicent Bulstrode was sitting by the fireplace with a black, greasy cat on her lap. Hermione shuddered.
"We need to distract them," she whispered.
"I know."
Harry hissed something at the python, and the snake turned and slithered into the Common Room—straight to the fireplace. Before anyone could react, its jaws clamped down on the cat.
Bulstrode shrieked, and the other students jumped up, grabbing their wands. The python was already wrapped around the cat, which was screaming in terror, and a second snake slithered out from under the sofa, joining the attack.
"Hugs! Let him go! Squeezey! Stop!" a thin voice yelled.
Hugs? Squeezey? Hermione wanted to see the look on Harry's face, but there was no time. A large ripple in the air was already heading for the exit of the common room. Luckily, all the Slytherins were busy with the pythons—Bulstrode was furiously blasting them with spells, despite the owner's protests.
"Millie! Enough!" Nott's voice cut through the cacophony of chaos.
Meanwhile, Hermione levitated the invisible Draco towards the exit—the silver grille was slowly sliding up after the whispered password Harry had given. Both pythons were now lying on the carpet, bleeding and covered in orange feathers. Barnaby was sobbing, kneeling in front of them, and the black cat was furiously swatting at the nearest snake's head, aiming for its eyes.
"Someone's leaving," Daphne Greengrass's calm voice, similar to Luna's, had the same effect as Nott's shout. She was looking at the grille, and her eyes were gleaming.
"STOP THEM!" Nott roared, lunging forward with his wand ready.
Hermione didn't hesitate—she followed the invisible Harry and Tennant, although how the Auror managed to drag a huge wolf under a half-open grille in seconds remained a mystery. She slipped through with Draco, and her heart stopped when the edge of the cloak caught on the bars, revealing platinum hair. But it only lasted a moment—the grille slammed shut behind them with a clang.
Harry began to cast protective charms on the entrance to delay the Slytherins, but Hermione didn't wait—she had noticed a puddle of blood collecting on the common room floor when she had lingered at the exit.
She rushed towards the infirmary, barely seeing the way through her tears, levitating the cloak-wrapped Draco in front of her. One word pulsed in her ears: "Draco... Draco... DRACO..."