Disclaimer: I own nothing except for the plot and the original characters.
Title: Lost Hope
Rating: Adult
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Hermione stared at her ceiling fan as it spun around, pushing the humid air around her room. It was little help against the heat of summer, but with the breeze from the evening storm coming through the window, she remained comfortable. Her thoughts stirred through her head. Tomorrow, Hermione would be returning to England. She was happy to be returning home and to Hogwarts, but she couldn't help but think of the summer she had spent in America with her aunt.
Her aunt was an extraordinary person. She seemed to know what Hermione wanted and what she didn't want. But against Hermione's protests, her aunt sent her to Salt of the Earth Summer Camp with the local teenagers in her neighborhood. Her aunt told Hermione that she would thank her one day for this experience and right now, Hermione thought, she was right…as always.
Much to Hermione's surprise, she made friends with some of the teens at SESC. Even more surprising, was the fact that they were all able to compete with her on an intellectual level. She was especially surprised when she became friends with a young, yet posh girl named Trish. Trish was a model with artistic tendencies, yet projected an image of being a scholar at heart. However, Trish was the most devious and slyest person Hermione had ever met. She would've been in Slytherin,Hermione mused. Trish was constantly saying, "You are a sheep among wolves. So be as wise as serpents, yet innocent as doves." Hermione always contemplated about what Trish's goals were in her life.
Hermione loved her time with Trish and was thinking deeply about the times they spent together at camp. They did everything together, and for once in Hermione's life, she acted like a normal, muggle teenager. She forgot all about her time at Hogwarts and spent her time enjoying her summer with her only female companion she had ever made in her entire life.
At camp, Hermione soaked in everything she learned and gave everything she had back in equal measures. Trish taught Hermione how to walk and act like a model, while giving Hermione lessons in the art of applying make-up. She also helped Hermione become more in tuned with her intellectual side, citing that being a scholar was someone who asked questions in all aspects of life, not just the parts which was taught to them. Hermione laughed softly as she thought about all the things Trish has done. They were complete and total opposites, yet Hermione had never felt the connection she had between Harry and Ron like she had with Trish.
Trish definitely made the summer the best. She should be an event coordinator, Hermione reflected. How Trish was able to throw an end of the summer party for the camp on top of making it a surprise birthday party for Hermione was beyond her comprehension. The party was fun and many people enjoyed it. On top of that, she had given Hermione a makeover that night. Nothing marvelous, very subtle to be exact, but one look at Hermione and you couldn't help but stare. To herself and to Trish, she might as well of looked exactly the same, but she wasn't. No one could put his or her finger on it, but Hermione Granger became somewhat different. She had become more beautiful, on the brink of being gorgeous. Hermione was edgy, pure, and innocent. All the qualities that made every male within a ten-foot radius of her turn their head and stare at her when she passed by.
By hanging out with Trish, Hermione somehow gained confidence that everyone found compelling. Hermione never laughed often in Hogwarts, but when she was with Trish, she didn't just laugh…she sparkled. Her laughter twinkled and danced like a melody that only the wind knew the dance to. When she talked to someone, she gave him or her her full attention. Her eyes showed intelligence, brightness, promise in so many things. When she talked, everyone tuned in and listened, her voice was musical, husky in an angelic way, like a siren's call.
But the most alluring characteristic about Hermione was the fact that she wasn't aware of her charm. She had passion, innocence, and warmth. Hermione looked fragile, but she was strong, stubborn, and enduring. When Hermione set her mind on something, she strived for it and rarely did she fail.
With one last smile and a soft sigh that carried through her room, Hermione turned to her side and fell asleep. Taking deep breaths of the cool summer air.
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Draco Malfoy was smirking slightly as he to a sip from his wine glass. He was in his bedroom, sitting in front of the fireplace, watching the fire eat away at a pile of black clumps. The fire was quick and quiet. Except for the occasional snap as the fire burned, Draco's room was completely silent.
A groan came from the room connecting to his. Draco's eyes sharpened slightly, but never moved away from the fire. Outside it was raining. A storm that raged on, pelting hail and rain. Lightning lit up the sky while thunder deafened the ears of those who heard it. Draco's face was cast into the darkness, even with the fire burning; the light from it only reached his chest. The occasional light cast by the lightning was the only source of light that lit the whole room...and his face.
Draco's face was very aristocratic. His skin was fair and his nose slightly upturned at the end. He was gorgeous, to put it simply. Not a trace of scars or acne. Nothing. There was absolutely nothing on his face to make it less handsome or marred. His lips were a pale pink, always turned slightly downwards. Many people had agreed that if Draco smiled more often instead of scowling, he would become more approachable.
But Draco wasn't. He was cold, heartless, withdrawn like an ice prince. His eyes, on the other hand, sent shivers down everyone's back. It was a sharp gray...an icy blue that looked like lightning. It showed no emotion. When Draco gave his attention to someone, his eyes pierced through that person. Seeing their every thought, memory, hopes and dreams. He spared no one. He got what he wanted and he got it through fear. No man, woman, or child ever double-crossed him without having him exact revenge. He did so slowly and painfully. Torturing them regardless of the offense. And he exacted all of his revenge with a cold smirk on his face. Never once did he ever smile. Never...
"...Help me...p-p-please...I...b-b-beg of you...h-h-have mercy..." a small voice called out from the connected room.
Draco's lips turned downward even further. His eyes turned hard and cold, without sparing a glance towards the door of his connecting room, he smirked. Draco had every torture device possible in that room, along with every poison made in both muggle and wizard world. He lifted his wineglass with his long and poised fingers. The glass flashed as light from the fire reflected off of it. Draco took a small sip and put it down slowly.
A scratching noise was heard from his left side. Scratch … scratch … scratch … thump …thump thump. Disgusting. Draco didn't tolerate disobedience. He scowled as his thought was interrupted by another cry of pain. Pathetic…Useless piece of shit, Draco thought. He took his wand and summoned his servant. The servant appeared behind him dressed in a dark robe. Its face was papery white, as if all the blood was drained from its body. The robe covered every inch of the servant and was free of wrinkles. However, the place over its heart was slightly caved in and looked like a dent.
"Take care of it."
The servant bowed to him and walked into the dungeon room, making sure to lock the door behind it. Draco always called his victims "it". Never referring to their names. Screams were heard through the door as his servant took care of the prisoner. The tortured, earsplitting screams brought a smirk to Draco's lips. A simple upturn that was as closest to a smile as Draco could ever get.
Finally, the sound of a bone cracking echoed through his room and the screams was jarred to a sudden silence. His servant walked out of the room with a small chest in his hands and a pitcher. He placed the chest next to Draco's arm and the pitcher close to Draco's wineglass. Draco focused his attention on the items place by his arm. He faintly heard the door opening and closing.
Draco reached towards the small chest. It was made out of sandalwood and smelled faintly like copper. It had beautiful designs along the side and top of the chest. Draco opened it up and his smirk widened into a grin. Inside the chest was an object that was dark purple and dripping in liquid. Draco caressed the side of the object in what looked like a sick imitation of a lover stroking his woman. The object was still warm and it glistened in the firelight. Picking it up, Draco violently threw it into the fire, where it landed alongside with all the other black clumps. Draco promptly poured what was in the pitcher into his wineglass before silently performing a spell and toasting himself as lightening lit up the sky.
And beside his left arm, in adjoining room, the flash of lightening illuminated the body. It's eyes were wide opened and the skin was papery white. A large hole was carved out where the heart should have been. When another flash of lightning lit the small room, the chest moved, mimicking the movements of a person in deep sleep…
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A/N So, what do you guys think? Good enough to continue? Please review & give me your perspective. Thank You!