A/N: So, for one this isn't beta'd, so forgive the sp&g issues that may be there.
It's been awhile since I've finished anything and while I know this is..uh...different I suppose would be the best word, I AM SUPER EXCITED to have completed a plunnie.
This story is based on the short story "The velvet ribbon" found in the book, In a dark, dark room by Alvin Schwartz
When researching the urban legend surrounding his inspiration, I found some darker aspects that I decided to incorporate into my story.
Warnings: I don't want to spoil the plot, but the genre is considered horror for this piece. Though it may not seem that dark to some, we all have different levels of sensitivity.
So please if you would really like to know what's going to happen, look up the story "The velvet ribbon" mine does end in much of the same fashion.
Disclaimer: I do not own hp or the legend of the velvet ribbon.
~xXx~
Draco furiously probed at the button to his floor, very aware that the rough action would result in bruising to his finger. He found himself growing increasingly perturbed with the elevators inability to interpret his annoyance and urgency; five bloody minutes now and the blasted contraption had yet to register his existence. Frustrated, Draco resorted to slamming his head against the cool surface of the elevator's wall.
Relishing the chilly exterior against his agitated flesh, he let his forehead linger there, until he heard someone climb into the small space with him. When the doors finally shut a mere thirty seconds later, he released a heavy sigh, and turned to see who his companion was, curious as to who had joined him.
Hermione fucking Granger.
He would recognize her righteous head of curls anywhere. But it was that damn ribbon tied round her delicate throat, that had captured his attention.
At first, Draco assumed it a fashionable quirk. It wasn't unpleasant, and to be honest, displayed her graceful neck beautifully. The rich red colour of the delicate velvet ribbon, and the sliver of black lace that ran across the edges, immediately piqued his interest. As thoughts of untying that delectable ribbon began plaguing him- he realized it had been nearly five years since he had last seen her- however, that particular interlude had not been under the best of circumstances. What, with that nasty business of his homicidal aunt torturing her and all. So perhaps, six years would be a proper assessment of the time that had passed. She had been bouncing around his department for awhile now, at least three months if one went by the office gossip, and this was the first he had seen of her. He suspected the only reason for today's impromptu meeting, was his rather unfortunate luck of running late for the first time in his ministry career.
"Hello, Granger." Draco offered, hoping to break the overwhelming silence as the lift began its descent into the Ministry.
"Malfoy." She returned, giving him a slight nod of her head. He watched curiously as the petite witch fidgeted with her rather smart charcoal business suit. Smoothing away non-existent wrinkles and picking off imaginary lint, she seemed nervous in his presence. Once realizing this, Draco clicked as to why he had yet to see her. Hermione seemed to still be wary of him, and she had every right- if he were truthful. He had never made a single attempt at rectifying the wrongs of his past, when it came to the beautiful woman beside him.
As the elevator reached it's destination, and the doors began to open, Draco decided to pluck up the small amount of Gryffindor courage he possessed and did something that could only be classified as bat shit crazy. He asked Hermione fucking Granger, to dinner, so as to apologize for his past transgressions. And as she began fingering the loose end of that enticing ribbon, she did something equally insane.
She said yes.
~xXx~
The night had gone smoothly, their conversation, though heavy at first due to his apology for being such a prat during their Hogwarts days, flowed effortlessly. Her silvery voice, full of wonder and amazement, as she explained why she had transferred to The Magical Creatures branch from the Auror department, entranced him from the minute her passion filled words escaped her mouth. His favorite part of the evening, had of course been the Ribbon, Draco was elated she had chosen to pair the alluring accessory with an equally fetching cocktail dress, the ebony fabric clung to her body in the most delicious of ways. Yet, here he sat, staring unashamedly at the ribbon. When she caught him, Hermione began her nervous fidgeting again.
"I'm sorry, it's incredibly rude of me to stare." Draco grimaced, hoping his behaviour hadn't hampered his chances with her.
"I just noticed you were wearing that same ribbon at work the other day, does it have a special meaning?" He asked.
She took only a moment before giving him a small smile and replied softly, "You could say that, I've worn it since the eve of Voldemort's demise."
After that night, Draco never questioned her again about the mysterious ribbon.
Well, almost never.
~xXx~
The years passed by and with them came a wedding, and the birth of three beautiful children.
Still the ribbon never left her throat, and Draco found himself completely obsessed with it.
He had thought for sure the eve of their wedding would have brought him the much anticipated joy of untying it from her dainty neck.
Alas, this was not the case. For when he reached to untie the perfect bow that kept it in place, she swatted his hands away.
"Draco...this can never come off. I'm sorry my love." She whispered.
He simply nodded his head and proceeded to unzip and remove the cream coloured wedding gown from her shivering form.
Understanding that this was her first time, Draco moved slowly. Taking his time in making sure her supple body was more then ready for him to consummate their marital union.
His witch was the most glorious of creatures, absolute perfection personified, every touch of his hands upon her skin elicited pleasure-filled moans from her soft lips.
Still though, all he could fixate on, while she rode atop him screaming his name was that damn ribbon.
The next occasion he thought would bring him the pleasure of seeing her throat bared to him, was when their first born, Scorpius, had been brought into the world.
Even the bloody medi-witch had attempted a removal, but Hermione had nearly had a panic attack over the suggestion; they quickly dropped the request when the baby's vitals began dropping, thanks to the stress.
Many a night he had lay awake, playing with the ribbons' ends. Every so often he would slightly pull at them, silently daring himself to do it, to finally take what he had wanted for so long. Afterall, Hermione owed him this, she had never trusted him enough to let him in on her secret, he was her husband for Merlin's sake.
Draco deserved to know.
He needed to know.
But he never could bring himself to do it.
So he remained awake, for more nights than he cared to admit just staring at that fucking ribbon.
~xXx~
Forty years had flown by quicker than Draco had anticipated. It seemed like yesterday, that he and his family were huddled on the platform at King's Cross Station, waving at his childrens eager faces as they left for Hogwarts.
Now, he and Hermione were welcoming their newest grandchild into the family. Lyra, their youngest and only daughter, had decided to give him a heart attack for his sixtieth birthday, when she announced she was pregnant with Hugo Weasley's child. That man was as big a nuisance as his father had been, but his baby girl loved him. So he supposed that would have to do.
They were on baby number two now, and it would be her last due to complications. In response, the collective families had babied Lyra restlessly. This was to be the last child for some time -at least until the greats began being born-and that wouldn't be for at least another twelve years- so both Hermione and Daphne, Hugo's mother, had gone a bit overboard with showering the young woman with attention.
He was grateful, and positive Lyra was as well, that today was the day they could throw all their affection on the newest baby. That, and Lyra was over being pregnant-at over a week late, she had been on the verge of performing celebratory cartwheels when the first contraction finally hit.
So here he sat, again, zoned in on the ribbon while they were all gathered in St. Mungo's awaiting little Orion's birth. It was here he realized, that he was the only one to ever acknowledge the blasted thing had been wrapped around her neck...all this time...was it really only him?
Wracking his brain, turning over every conversation, rolling over every memory... could it really be...Gods, his children had never even asked about it…
Feeling overwhelmed, he tore out of the waiting room-ignoring the shouts of his names and the pulls at his arms. Draco very much needed to get the fuck out of there, he needed air...he needed to think.
Grabbing up the floo powder, he escaped into the fireplace, hell-bent on getting as far away from Hermione and her godforsaken ribbon.
Several hours later, Hermione came upon him, sitting stock still and silent perched on their bed.
"Draco?...What happened back there?" She asked slowly.
"The Ribbon Hermione, take it off. Take it off NOW!" Draco lunged at her throat. Clawing desperately at it, yanking and uncaring of what the consequences would be.
He needed to know, and it had to be now.
No more waiting for her to deem him worthy of her little secret.
"No! Draco STOP!" she screeched, grabbing frantically at his hands wrapped around her throat.
"I HAVE TO KNOW HERMIONE!" Manic and no longer of the right mind, he lifted the screaming witch from the ground and tossed her onto the bed. Grabbing his wand from it's holster, and training it on his wide-eyed wife, the words slipped forth before he could even blink.
"ACCIO RIBBON!"
Hermione tried to keep the ribbon in place, but the veracity of Draco's spell unleashed the fabric from her throat, and ripped it through her fingertips.
As soon as he had his prize, grasped in his trembling hand, Draco looked up to see what was hidden beneath…
To his horror, all that was awaiting him was the headless body of his wife. The snowy comforter she had been tossed upon, quickly transforming into a crimson backdrop for her still twitching corpse.
"Why DRACO?!"
His eyes grew wide and his lungs refused to allow him to breath, there at his feet was the missing head-her curls covered in blood and her eyes frozen open, staring up at him.
Her beautiful lips moved, and Draco fell backwards, landing hard against the bedrooms floor.
Surely he hadn't seen…
Then they moved again, and he found himself crawling backwards through the door as quickly as possible. When he reached the top of the stairs Draco attempted to get up, but as he was rolling over to push up from the ground he saw her head had rolled to the bedroom's opening.
That beautiful lips he had kissed a thousand times began to part, and then the screaming started.
"WHY DRACO?! Why?!"
Over and over, the same words...why draco why…
Managing to right himself in the wake of his terror, Draco ripped down the stairs and through the doors of his home. Tearing out into the quiet of the night, the streets were thankfully bare and he found himself completely alone. Breathing rapidly, clutching at his chest trying to calm his thundering heartbeat, he began stumbling down the road. Unaware and oblivious as to his surroundings, Draco soon tripped over a large stick strown in the roadway, the action causing him to tumble over the hill attached. When he came to rest at the bottom, battered, bruised, and certain he had a broken leg, he began crying out for help. His wand still laid on the floor of his bedroom, dropped in his haste to flee.
When Draco heard a rustling of leaves, and a loud thud near the top of the hill where he had fallen from, he peered up.
Hermione's severed head was staring down at him.
Her eyes still frozen open, her beautiful mouth still screaming.
"WHY Draco, Why?!"