The Labyrinth by AMJohnson0518
Update: I am reposting The Labyrinth on AO3. It was the first story I ever wrote, and good lord has it given me hell. But, it still has a special place in my heart and I will be FINALLY finishing it this year. A new update is coming in mid-August.
I will be reposting chapters on AO3 every few days. They will have some minor grammar changes. All chapters are on FFN (but these still need grammar edits).
I know the story (especially as it is in FFN) needs a rewrite and edit, and the writing is very clunky at times, but that’s a project for a later date. Be kind!
Summary: Her neck warmed under his breath, “Granger, if you don’t stop making noise I swear I will kill you myself.” The war is not over. Instead, The Labyrinth, a prison to rival Azkaban, holds all those who are caught in defiance of the Dark Lord’s reign. What happens when two enemies are forced to work together to escape the maze? …Life will never be the same again. DM/HG
Rating: M
Snippet:
“You don’t think I’m not in just as much fucking pain as you are, princess?” Draco sneered, “Trust me- ”
A sharp laugh bubbled up from Hermione’s throat, effectively cutting him off. “Good. I’m glad you’re in pain. You deserve every ounce of it.” Hermione’s eyes narrowed, her body growing taut with every word that came from his mouth. Perhaps his arrogance knew no bounds, but her anger toward him had no limits either.
Before he could open his mouth to object, she continued. “You’ve been nothing but an arse your whole life, and I’m glad you finally got to feel pain for all of your rotten decisions. Those people back there, they didn’t…They don’t deserve to be here. Them, I would trust, but you...I will never trust you.” Hermione choked out, her voice raw with anger and grief.
Draco rounded back on Hermione. His eyes were deadly angry, like that of a fox; cunning, icy, calculating. He took a step closer, reaching down and grasping her slim arms. In one smooth motion, he heaved her up, dragging her back against the wall. His fingertips felt cold and surprisingly soft against her bruised skin, but his grip was undeniably hard. He lifted her until she was upright. Draco was towering over her, his toes nearly touching hers. While he was thin, his height was still impressive, and she noticed the top of her head barely grazed above his shoulders. She could not stop staring at his stony eyes, mere inches from her own.
Over the year they had not been at Hogwarts, Draco had certainly matured; his jawline was sharp, emphasizing his aristocratic features. Weight aside, Draco was still intimidating as ever, living up to the Malfoy reputation.
“Don’t you ever tell me I deserved this, do you understand me?” Malfoy’s voice never rose above a whisper, but the venom dripping from his words made her blood run cold. A shiver coursed down Hermione’s slender back. Draco must have seen the slight fear in her eyes because, despite his anger, he smirked in victory.
“That mark on your arm says otherwise,” Hermione replied coolly, nodding down to the ugly black blotch that marred his perfectly pale complexion.
The smirk on Draco’s face vanished, but the anger did not.
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