"It's a loop," he said, glancing up at her.

A thought slithered through her mind, and fresh terror seized her. Her wand flew up, pointing between his eyes.

"Granger, what—"

"Alastor Moody turned you into an animal in our fourth year. Which animal?"

"You can't be serious—"

"Which animal?" She brandished her wand.

He stared down at her, and with an expression that could have convinced her of his identity all by itself, he said, "A white ferret."

Hermione lowered her arm slowly, her pulse still racing. "Right. Sorry. It's just— we can't be too safe."

His reply was an unintelligible grumble, but Hermione was too busy stepping next to him, peering down into the void below. After a few moments, she flicked her wrist and whispered, "Avis."

A flock of small birds zoomed from the tip of her wand, bright yellow in the darkness, and zipped down the stairway, disappearing until they were flecks in the distance—

A flap of wings behind them, and Draco tugged her against the wall just as her flock came up from behind them, weaving through them and onward, down, down, until flitting behind them again.

Caught in the loop.

Hermione vanished the birds on their next round. She staggered into the middle of the landing, staring up at the moon shining through the open doorway. They were lost in a maze with no exit — and now, no entry. They'd tumbled into a rabbit hole, and it had swallowed them whole.

"There has to be a way in." Hermione turned to see Draco studying the walls, running his hands over the wet stone.

Squaring her shoulders, she crouched down to the stairs. She searched the seams and dips in the stone for anything useful while Draco tried all sorts of unlocking and spell detection charms on the walls and ceiling.

The minutes stretched on, and still they found nothing. Hermione's chest began to tighten as she contemplated never getting out, and never getting in. Dying here inside this mountain, inside these stairs.

She crawled down step after step, running her shaking fingers over each stair as she sank lower and lower into the dark underworld. Her skin grew colder. She was on the forty-ninth stair when she realized she'd lost sight of Draco. She shot to her feet, and suddenly he was next to her. They were on the landing together — she'd reached the end of the loop.

He ran his hands over her arms once, and turned back to the walls.

She watched him, listening to his breath grow harsher as he paced across the stones. She tried crawling upwards, looking for signs on the other side of the steps, ascending each stair toward the moonlight until she finally reached the next landing and looked back for Draco—

Who appeared next to her.

Hermione collapsed on the closest step, her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands.

She focused her mind, forcing herself to breathe. When her lungs could expand fully again, she refocused, forcing herself to think. The stairs had no end in sight. But there was a bottom to them. There had to be.