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Breaking the Chain	By : RynStar15 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 42452 -:- Recommendations : 5 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, that belongs to the glorious J.K Rowling. I don't make any money off of this writing, I simply twist her world for my own pleasure.

Chapter List
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Draco moaned. His head was killing him. He lifted a hand to his skull and realized that his hand hurt too. What the bloody hell was going on? Where was he?
Groaning, he pushed himself up to a sitting position and grabbed his head when it started swimming.
"Don' make any sudden moves, boyle. We'll stab ya right through we will."
Draco opened his eyes and realized that he was sitting in a dingy cell. The man that was speaking on the other side of the bars was a portly bloke in drab attire. Draco could smell him from here. He remembered what happened, but he wasn't sure what he was going to do about it yet. He had Apparated right into someone's house and he knew that was a restriction of "invasion of privacy" or some sort of shite. He'd barely skimmed through the laws in their sixth year when they'd been taught and it seemed he was now receiving his comeuppance.
"Look, I'm sorry I Apparated into your house- I didn't mean to, I got mixed up. I just passed the test not too long ago you see-"
"Stop yer ramblin' witch! I'll hear nunna it! Yer gunna get yer due ye are!"
Draco scowled at the man's foul language. "I'm not a witch you impudent dunce! Do I look like I have tits to you?"
"I said shut it!" the rotund man smashed the bars of his cell with a menacing looking sword. The sound reverberated in Draco's head and he moaned in agony. He could feel a large bump on the back of his skull where the man from the cottage must have hit him. Once again he felt pain shoot through his arm. Looking down he saw caked blood and a swollen sausage for a hand. His assessed his other injuries. It appeared as though they had done a little more than simply knock him out. They had beat him. His ribs hurt, his shoulder, the left side of his face. It felt like they had taken a sledge hammer to him. What for? He hadn't meant to land in their house. Why were they punishing him so much for that tiny mistake?
"Look, I think we've had a misunderstanding. It was an accident, I didn't mean to land in that man's house. I just got off track a little bit. I don't see why you have to lock me up. How about I not have my father press charges on you and we'll call this whole thing off?"
The disgusting man threw his head back and laughed.
"I don' know what yer on about but yer gettin' what yer kind deserves, ain't no daddy gunna save yeh."
"My kind? Is this because my father is a Death Eater? Are you part of the Order?"
"Mind yer tongue, witch! I don' understand yer nonsense an' I don' want ta haf ta liss'n ter it for da rest ova day."
"Is that when I'm getting released?" Draco asked hopefully.
The man laughed again. "Ya, sure, iffin 'at's what ya wanna call it."
Somehow, he didn't think he'd be going anywhere soon. Draco was starting to get nervous. This could not just be because he had Apparated into a house; this was something entirely different and bigger than he understood.
His entire body throbbed. He heard another person coming down some stairs off to the left and an even larger man stopped outside of his cell.
"I don' right know what yer kind eat but this is wha' yeh get," he proclaimed before pushing a plate of what looked like vomit underneath the bars and a cup of water through the gap. When Draco reached out to take it the man's foot came through the iron rails and smashed his hand into the ground. Draco yelped in pain and wrenched his hand back. The two men laughed uproariously and Draco waited until the bigger man left before he grabbed his "food." He sniffed it a few times. It smelled edible and he was starving so he chowed down with as much grace as he could muster.
He really wished Granger were here to tell him what was going on.
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Hermione clutched her side where a stitch had formed an hour ago. Her lungs were on fire and her legs were protesting the strain on them. She had been running, jogging, power-walking, never stopping. She had to get to London as fast as possible. It was already mid-day and she knew should be getting close but she still hadn't seen anything but some deer. She could only imagine the kind of trouble Malfoy was getting himself into. Had he told someone about the Time Turner? She certainly hoped not.
She was going to kill him. Although by the time she finally made it to London she wouldn't have the energy to do much more than collapse on him. She was parched, starving, and her whole body felt like jelly. At least she wasn't cold anymore. Today was sunny again and it shone down on her as she covered more ground than she had ever covered in one day. She had never been athletic and this was killing her.
Malfoy was going to die. She would make sure of it.
Twenty minutes of grueling agony later she saw a farm. No surprise there. There was a lot of farming land in this area. Another twenty minutes and she encountered another one. Progress. Half an hour later she began to encounter thatch roof houses. It was she thought. She knew they had gone back in time, she just couldn't be sure of when. She needed more clues, something that could queue her in to the time period, something that she could work with.
Less than a mile later a dirt road appeared off to her right, veering straight toward where London should be. Perfect! This would lead her straight into the city. The welcome sights gave her an extra energy boost and she started jogging down the narrow grooves that constituted as a road. After ten minutes of following the road her heart soared, she could see the city. Cobblestone buildings and thatch roofs and- oh, sweet Merlin.
A castle. Not just a romantic home for the queen, but the old-fashioned castle that housed most of the city. They may have gone back further than she'd thought. This did not deter her however. She was sure she could deal with anything they threw at her. She read so much she figured she could fit in…enough. If only she weren't wearing wizarding robes…
It wasn't long before she approached the entrance and she gasped in shock and delight. A drawbridge lay before her, leading into the city. She couldn't help the small thrill of enchantment she felt at the beauty of the history she was living in. She nearly squealed when she noticed the guards on either side of the drawbridge wore chainmail armor. Oh, my, she thought. This was real. This was really happening. There were really knights in shiny-bloody-armor and she was walking on a drawbridge.
It was so surreal Hermione almost felt detached from her body, like she was just watching herself move through a crowded medieval city looking for Draco Malfoy. The pain in her lungs, side, stomach and head told her otherwise. She was here; she was accidently bumping into a woman in a long wool dress pushing a cart full of animal entrails. Hermione's gag reflex was on high alert after catching a whiff of the bloody organs. She mumbled an apology and continued on her way.
Hermione had no idea where to start looking for Malfoy. He might not even be here. She wandered aimlessly; aware that time was ticking away. If dark fell before she could find him, she would be forced to leave the city and try again tomorrow. She had no money and nothing to barter with.
Hermione began to grow nervous at the curious glances from the dirty people; she knew she didn't fit in. She was wearing black robes which she was glad of because underneath she had a pair of jeans and a tank-top. Judging by the dresses on every woman around her, the jeans would not be well-received She had figured the black robes were somewhat more inconspicuous, although from the glares and scowls sent her way it evidently was not inconspicuous enough. She tried to keep away from crowds as much as for the surreptitiousness as for the horrendous smell. The unwashed bodies around her had her empty stomach roiling. She kept towards the edges on buildings while still craning her neck, peering through the throng of people for a bright blonde head.
Hermione didn't know how long she had been wandering when she came upon what looked like the square. She could see up on a wooden platform a set of gallows with three nooses swaying lightly in the frosty breeze. She shivered. What a horrible way to die. She could also see that they were being prepared for someone, the ropes being tested, the hangman sharpening his sword in case he had to cut them down. Guards were stirring, waiting to escort the prisoner to their death. Crowds were beginning to gather and Hermione decided to use this to look for Draco and catch up on some history.
"Ye hear who they're hangin'?" a woman's voice came from behind her.
She turned to look at the woman. She was pretty, not much older than herself, possibly in her early thirties. Hermione shook her head, refraining from speaking so as not to give herself away.
"A witch. They caught one in old man Gresley's cabin, right outside'a town. Said he tried to make 'im turn to the devil. So Gresley got 'im good and the sheriff came and locked 'im up. Should start any minute now."
Hermione felt sick. A witch. If only they knew what she was she would be hanging from those gallows too. She suddenly feared for Draco's safety. Would he know to keep his head down, to hide his abilities? She wished she knew what year she was in, that way she could consider the danger, but she didn't know how to ask without seeming suspicious.
"Yer not from around here are ye?" the woman asked, her brow raised as she eyed her outfit. Hermione shook her head, pulling her robes further closed.
"I only say it since you don' seem to fit in. Do you come from afar?" She nodded, still not wanting to give herself away with her accent.
"Are ye a friend of the king?" Hermione's heart fluttered. If she knew who was reigning she could hazard a guess at the year.
"Which king do you speak of?" she asked, trying to lower her voice to mask her accent.
"Why, our holy King Henry III! Who did ye think I spoke of?"
King Henry III! That put her in the early thirteenth century! She knew he took over from King John I in 1216 at the age of nine, but couldn't remember when his reign ended exactly. Late 1200's...1270's? It sounded right but it had been so long since she had studied the kings of England that she was rusty on the timeline. She did know, however, that they had begun persecuting witches in the thirteenth century when the Church finally became powerful enough to rule over the Pagan sects.
Hermione was saved from answering the woman's question as the crowd began whooping and hollering. They were bringing out the prisoner. Hermione stood on tiptoe to see over the heads of the crowd. The prison was apparently directly behind the gallows as there was a surge of people headed that way, jeering and throwing old vegetables, stones, and other items at the man the guards dragged out. Her view was blocked so she waited patiently until they brought him up onto the platform. As the man came into view her heart fell into the region of her stomach.
It was Malfoy.
She could see his terrified face, could almost hear him pleading with the guards over the thunder of the crowd. They pulled him unceremoniously up to the middle rope. The mob screamed with joy.
Horrified, Hermione pushed through the cheering citizens, shoving people aside, knocking over several in her haste to get to the platform. Her mind was numb with terror and disbelief. This could not be happening…
"No!" she screamed, possessed. "Stop! Stop it!"
People gawked at her incredulously but she ignored them, wrenching her way between the dirty bodies as the guards placed Draco underneath the noose and lowered it around his neck.
"STOP!" she screeched so hard she felt like her throat was being ripped out. But no one was listening. She felt helpless as she was shoved this way and that as people thronged toward the stage.
Oh, gods this can't be happening. She felt as though everything was occurring in slow-motion. Malfoy shook like a leaf as the noose tightened around his throat, blood and scraps of moldy food plastered across his face. The roaring crowd punched the air and shouted obscenities at the witch. The guards sneered at Malfoy's weak attempts to free himself.
Without any idea how, Hermione had reached the platform. The bottom of it came up to her chin but it didn't stop her. She didn't allow herself to think, simply grabbed the edge and wrenched herself up with a strength she never knew she had. She was certain if she had tried any other time she would never have made it, but her hysteria allowed her to do things that would have otherwise been impossible.
The shock of a small woman launching herself onto the gallows wore off quickly and the guards propelled themselves forward to grab her off. She was still screaming "Let him go!" over and over as she heaved herself at a stunned Malfoy. Before she could get to him a guard grabbed her arm, the only thing he could reach. She jerked out of his grasp and clutched Malfoy with one hand while reaching up to tear off the noose with the other. The guard surged forward and hooked his arm roughly around her waist, heaving her away from a straining Malfoy.
Hermione screamed in anguish. She had to get to him; he couldn't die, not here, not now. She fought her captor but she was no match for the burly man.
Malfoy seemed to have gained a new burst of strength from her attempted rescue and broke into action. He kicked out at a guard trying to subdue him, knocking him into another guard who toppled backwards into the crowd, bringing his companion down with him. Hermione could see droves of guards headed towards them and in the back of her mind knew they would never get away. Not without their magic.
She struggled against her restraint, kicking and hitting. Another guard came forth to help and she used both her feet to knock him on his arse. She tried to kick the one holding her in the shins, knees, anywhere she could reach but he kept hold. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Malfoy struggling against his own captors, spurred by her actions, the noose still tied dangerously around his neck.
Hermione knew nothing but to fight. She brought her head back, catching the guard holding her in the nose, causing him to drop her. She fell to her knees and barreled into the guard coming to take her ex-captor's place. The man she felled dropped his sword and Hermione recklessly dove for it. She had no idea how to even use one and it was a lot heavier than she had reckoned. She could hear the crowd screaming in panic, breaking apart at the fight before them, but she gave them no mind, her only thought to get Malfoy as far away from that treacherous rope as possible.
Two men were struggling in vain to control a now raging Malfoy. He yelled as he fought with his legs, his arms still tied behind his back. Hermione charged, dragging the sword behind her, clasping the handle with both hands and bringing it up with all the strength she could muster. The guard closest to her turned just in time as the sword came down, striking his chainmail with enough force to knock him down, Hermione falling forward with the weight of it. She cried out as she wrenched the blade from the man and he screamed in pain as blood spurted from his shoulder.
Swallowing her disgust, Hermione turned to Malfoy and the opening she had created. She swung, emitting a harsh yell at the weight threatening to tear her arms off. She closed her eyes, terrified of what she would accidently hit. She could feel a slight tug and a much harder thud as she toppled with the momentum of the heavy sword, her hands and knees hitting the wood planks of the gallows.
She opened her eyes and realized many things at once. She had miraculously cut the rope, Malfoy was free and kicking back his last adversary, and half a dozen guards were throwing themselves at her. She didn't have time to react when a guard threw himself on top of her, knocking the wind from her lungs. Someone grabbed her throat; another someone was dragging her up. She was surrounded. She felt several fists raining down on her, coming into contact with her face, stomach, arms, anywhere they could get. She tried to fight but knew it was futile; she was no match for these trained men. She just hoped that Malfoy had gotten away.
Hermione was dragged back, the half a dozen guards restraining her. One of them wrenched her arm back and pain consumed her. She could hear herself screaming as she continued to kick but they were pressing in so close that she couldn't move more than a few centimeters in any direction. She almost gave up to the blackness consuming her but she realized that their group was being torn to one side. Her eyes snapped open and she realized that Draco was attempting to pull the guards off her. He had already chucked one into the crowd, who screeched hysterically, and was tugging another one away from her when two more men came up behind him.
"Malfoy, look out!" she screamed before a filthy hand was clamped roughly over her mouth, digging into the sides of her face and suffocating her. She watched as Malfoy swung around to try to take on the other two while she was dragged bodily away. She threw her body this way and that but the furious guards were not to be deterred. She wrenched her head to the side to knock the hand covering her mouth off long enough to shriek "Malfoy, run! Get out!" before she watched helplessly as the hilt of a sword came down on her head.
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XOXO
RynStar15
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Breaking the Chain