Disclaimer: It’s all J.K.’s. I merely enjoy playing with her creations

Title: Emerald

Chapter 4: Let the Rebellion Live

When Hermione woke up, it was to the bright, happy smiles of Harry and Ron, leaning over her bed with relief at her awakening. She sat up slowly, thankful for their helping hands, and looked around.

“Where am I?” she asked, taking in her surroundings. White walls and rows of cots suggested a Hospital Ward, but she didn’t recognize it.

Ron answered eagerly. “We’re in the Lovegood Ward of St. Mungo’s, ‘Mione. It’s brand- new.”

Her heart stopped. “Luna?” she asked faintly as she brought her hand up to her chest. Harry knocked Ron aside with his elbow and gave her a calming smile.

“Luna is fine,” he said, glaring at Ron, “We dedicated the ward to her father.” Hermione’s heart stopped its frantic race, and she smiled at her boys once she was able to.

“So. What happened while I was out of it?” They exchanged glances, and turned back to the woman.

“Nothing has changed on the Front, we’ve recruited three more Order members, and you’re awake.” Harry shrugged, and shifted. “I don’t want to ask, but we need to know. Do you remember any of what they did to you?”

Hermione went pale, and looked away. The silence in the Ward was oppressive, and she carefully kept her eyes from meeting those of her two best friends. The boys waited patiently, already knowing that it would not be easy for her to talk about her ordeal. Finally she spoke, her voice low and toneless.

“I was on a research mission, trying to find information on their newest weapon,” Harry and Ron nodded. They had sent her out on that assignment. She continued. “I didn’t realize when it got cold what was happening. But when the Dementors surrounded me, it was too late to call up my Patronus. They came down, gliding past me but never coming near, seeming to be holding me captive. They parted when a masked Death Eater came from behind them, and the next thing I remember is waking up in a dungeon.

I tried to get out, but the wards on the door forced me back and prevented me from leaving. Lucius Malfoy was standing there, watching me with that sadistic smirk, laughing at my failed attempts to get free.” Hermione shifted under the covers and brought them up to her chin, and finally met their eyes. “That was the beginning of the torture. I lost track of the days that went by, they blended into each other,” each day a blur of pain and blood, she added to herself.

“I’m gonna kill Malfoy.” Ron muttered, but Hermione heard him and stopped her painful commentary to say “Draco never once joined in. He never even came to watch. Unlike Malfoy Sr.” She flushed painfully when their gazes came to rest on her at the last admission.

“Lucius Malfoy… raped me. Repeatedly.” She blurted, and then rolled over and hid her face under her covers from their shock.

When she rolled back, their faces were composed again, though she didn’t comment on the strange gleam in their eyes. Privately she thought that she wouldn’t be surprised if Lucius Malfoy ended up very dead in the next engagement. But they urged her to continue her story, and so she did.

“Draco showed up one day and just stood outside my cell. He was watching me, and I thought he was his father- I was terrified of him. But he didn’t do anything, just stood there, so I dismissed him. He wasn‘t an immediate threat. Then he called his house elf over and I recognized his voice. Anyone would recognize that voice.” Harry and Ron both nodded their agreement, and she continued.

“I was scared that he was going to hurt me too, but he just told his elf to take down the ward and take my hand. Then he had the poor thing bring us to the cemetery where you found me.” She paused, reflecting on the memory. Draco had smiled at his elf, but he had to have treated her badly for her to be that cowed by him.

Hermione didn’t understand.

“But he said he was letting me free because he always let his classmates have a second chance. I think-” but she cut herself off when Harry started shaking his head.

“What?” Hermione asked.

Harry replied slowly, “Draco Malfoy is one of the most vicious of Voldemort’s Death Eaters. When you face him in battle, you never get a second chance. He is Voldemort’s personal executioner. When he comes to you, you die.”

Ron nodded his agreement, and they all sat there, thinking. Why had he let Hermione go?

A sharp crack gathered their attention, and they all stared in shock at the little house elf. The poor thing was covered in blood, crying, and shaking so hard a small gust would knock her over. Hermione swung her legs over the edge of the bed, disbelief filling her eyes.

“Is that- are you- Biddy?” she asked incredulously, and the elf wiped mournful eyes as she looked up at the human.

“Biddy obeys her Master, yes she does. Biddy gives this to Masters Mudblood.” Even though Harry and Ron sucked their breath in fast at the terminology, Hermione reached out and took the proffered thing.

It was covered in blood, and Hermione held it in her hands gingerly. It was mesmerizing, this necklace, even bloody, and she vaguely recalled seeing Draco wear it. When Biddy spoke again, Hermione’s eyes were focused on the emerald and silver masterpiece.

“Biddy obeys Master. Biddy pledges to Masters Mudblood.” The high squeaky voice broke and the tears came again, big and fast, and the elf hugged herself tight, and backed into a corner, shaking.

Hermione glanced up and took in the creature, before going back to the necklace. She ignored the exclamations of surprise coming from Harry and Ron, and gazed into the center of the emerald. If she looked hard enough, she could almost see Draco’s face.

Her contemplation was shattered when the door to the ward opened and shut forcefully, revealing a furious Severus Snape. His eyes scanned the room, taking in Hermione in the Hospital gown sitting on the edge of her bed, holding a bloody necklace he was very familiar with, the sobbing house elf in the corner he was even more familiar with, and the two softly arguing young men.

“What is going on?” he asked quietly, deadly. The intense voices stopped, and Hermione raised her eyes from the necklace to meet her old Professor’s gaze. With the now quiet sobbing of the hose elf in the corner, the room was as silent as it was going to get.

“Why don’t you tell us, Sir? We’ve been here for over two hours. Surely we couldn’t have done something wrong already?” Harry’s voice was faintly mocking and sarcastic, but that was normal. What wasn’t normal was that Severus dropped into a chair and covered his face in his hands.

After a moment, he spoke. “Draco is dead.” The silence that followed was quickly obliterated by the questions coming from the two men. Snape, however, held his hand up in a silent plea for peace, and got it. “He was taken for questioning early this afternoon, and placed in a holding cell.” Severus seemed to shrink inside his body, and paused before going on. “He was found two hours later, dead, apparently from the extent of his wounds.”

There was silence in the ward as the shocked three listened to the report. Severus went on. “But what no one was willing to report was that he had written a message on the wall. In his own blood.” The young men leaned forward, eager to hear what Snape had to say. “It read ‘Let the Rebellion Live.’”

“I come here to share this news, and I find that I am too late. I see that my Godson’s house elf and necklace are already here. Why is that, Ms. Granger?”

Hermione looked up. “I don’t know.”

They all turned to Biddy, who looked up from her weeping and said, “Master said to go to his Mudblood when he died, and to give her Master’s necklace and pledge service. Biddy followed Master’s orders!” Her voice rose into a wail and broke with new tears as Severus looked a Hermione appraisingly. Could this be why Draco let her go? Did he-? No. It does not matter anymore. Severus turned back to the two men and started planning, pushing his overwhelming grief to the side. He could mourn later.

Hermione called Biddy to her softly, and placed a hand on the elf’s head. The poor thing sobbed harder at the reminder of her Master, and wrapped her arms around Hermione’s leg as she cried her heart out on her Mistress’s leg. Slowly rubbing Biddy’s head, Hermione looked into the emerald again, seized by a desire to know its secrets.

Severus glanced over at Ms. Granger, and froze for a moment. How many times had he seen Draco doing the same thing, rubbing his elf’s head and gazing into the stone? He shook himself and went back to his conversation. It would not do to have the impulsive young men catch onto anything. They would never let it go.

The light reflected oddly in the gem, drawing Hermione in. She reached behind her for a towel and brought it forward, and slowly started to wipe the blood from the necklace. With each swipe of the towel over the piece of jewelry, Hermione took away more of the blood and revealed more of the inner light. Finally the gem was unsoiled and she placed the towel down carefully. Why would he leave her this necklace? What was it’s significance?

Why would he leave her anything?

As she stared into its depths, a thought came to mind. What if he cared for you? What if he wanted you to have it as a token of his affection? Her rational mind knew that this must be false, but the gem drew her in and showed her a brief flash of Draco’s face, smiling at something. Her breath caught in her throat, and a hand slid up to her neck. She tucked her feet under herself, and Biddy came and sat on the bed, ready now to serve and protect this female who acted so much like her Master.

Could he have loved me? All these years, could it have been love? The question haunted Hermione, and she did not dare believe it. If that was true- no, better not to think about what might have happened. Her foolish childhood crush on the Malfoy Heir had been nothing more, had never been returned.

Had it?

Seeing a last fleck of blood on the emerald, Hermione reached for the towel again, and wiped it spotless. Looking back into the depths, she caught her breath as it showed her another memory of Draco, this one right before his death, asking Biddy to take care of ‘his’ Mudblood. Hermione closed her eyes, tears leaking silently out of them as she realized what Draco had done for her, and why.

The men were talking lowly, not wanting to interrupt whatever Hermione was doing, but she still heard them utter the phrase “Let the Rebellion Live”, and it crystallized her intentions.

She stood, catching the other’s attention by the mere act, and clasped the necklace around her neck. Taking in the faces of the three men watching her, and the hand of the house elf who looked on, Hermione said “‘Let the Rebellion Live’ indeed. Let’s get moving.”

As she turned away to get dressed, her free hand slid up to caress the emerald.

Alright, guys.

Thank you for sticking with me on this one, and never fear- you’ll be seeing more of me really soon! Lotsa stuff to post still, and just remember to Read and Review!

I’ll love you forever if you do…

Love,

Netrixie