Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own any of J.K. Rowling's characters; they belong to her. And I guess Warner Bros., but isn't that saddening, too?
Also, I do not own the rights to the play Loyalties by Murphy Guyer, or any of its characters. I am using quotes only.
Author's Note: Please rate/review/etc. Do not hesitate to email me, unless you hate my work and send me chain letters and viruses. Under those circumstances, I must ask that you keep your feelings to yourself. This is the first fan fiction that I have written in a long while, so I hope you will tell me if I am doing something wrong. Thank you!
Only For You
Chapter 1: Stripped
"Don't call me that! Don't you ever call me that!"
"Well, stop picking on everybody."
"You're supposed to be my wife!"
"But Katrin's my sister."
Hermione Granger watched the petite actress on the stage, hissing in her on-stage husband's face. She was filled with awe; and hope, that maybe someday she, too, could stand up to someone. But she had been beaten into submission; her brains were now useless to her. The strong young woman that she once was had bowed down to a new figure: a tired thirty-four year old that couldn't make eye contact if her life depended on it.
Because, of course, it relied on someone else's. She let herself down everyday to feed the gnawing in her gut. She had to protect him.
A light change brought Hermione back to consciousness. Four actors and actresses bowed on the harshly-lit stage, grinning from ear to ear. Time to go home. She walked through the small parking lot slowly, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness. She checked her watch. Damn! It's 10:04, I'm late. Now visibly stricken with fear, she leapt into her car and sped home.
At the end of her street, Hermione got out and started to push the car. This way, maybe he won't hear me. Fortunately, she lived at the tip of a cul-de-sac, and didn't have to turn the car with her body. She didn't bother with the garage, knowing that it made a horrific amount of noise. The door creaked slightly as she entered her home; she stopped in her tracks. Her brown eyes were bulging out of their sockets as she stood in between the two wooden doorjambs like a deer in headlights. When no noise was detected from the interior of the house, she slowly shut the door. She crept up two carpeted flights of stairs and threw her coat into a small guest bathroom.
There was a large oak door at the end of the hallway. Hermione took a deep breath, and slowly turned the brass knob. She noticed that there was a long lump under the covers of her bed, and she breathed a sigh of relief. He's asleep! Perhaps I'll make it after all. After slipping her shoes off and laying them next to the bed, she silently wrapped the covers around her shaking body. I think I have gotten away with it...
"Just a bit late, aren't you?" She hadn't been sneaky enough, she realized, as the bedside lamp opposite hers was suddenly switched on.
"I-I don't know what you mean..." Hermione's voice drifted off when she glanced at the silhouette glaring down on her. Draco Malfoy looked the same that he did when he became a Death Eater sixteen years ago; his golden locks slicked back over his head. His grey-blue eyes seemed to bore into Hermione's skull as she fought back tears.
Draco shook his head. "Oh, you know what I mean exactly. I ask one thing of you, one thing, and you can't do it. All I wanted was a hot dinner at about 7 o'clock, but where are you when I come home after slaving away for twelve hours at work? You're 'out'."He snorted with revulsion. "You know, I gave up so much to keep you in my life. To get you away from those Muggle parents of yours. I lost my friends and my father, and it's all because of you! You are such a filthy little Mudblood!"
"Shut up!" Hermione screamed, in a voice that was not her own. "Shut up! I am not a Mudblood!" Draco lifted his arm to backhand her, and then thought better of it.
"No, darling," he sneered. "You are perfectly right. You're less than a Mudblood now. You're less than a Muggle. You are dirt."
Hermione grimaced. "If I am dirt, it is because of you." Her husband gave an evil laugh.
"And do you know why that is? Do you know why I have kept you from the wizarding world for so long?" A sincere smile now graced his thin lips. "It's because I truly care about you, dear. You see, I know that you cannot be trusted with a wand out there in the world; you aren't intelligent enough. That is why we're living in this dump," he glared again, "and I haven't spoken to my father in almost sixteen years."
"You gave up nothing to have me in your life!" Hermione shouted. "It was your plan for your father to disown you; I was just a meaningless pawn..."
"That is not the point! You made me think you loved me! I'll admit, it was rather convenient to be seduced by a Gryffindor Mudblood when all I wanted was to get away from Lucius, but now I know the real reason you are here!" Draco's voice softened to a low snarl. "I have known, for all of our marriage."
Hermione inhaled sharply, and then shook her head. "I don't think you do," she said quietly. "I think you are bluffing about that, Draco. But you do have one thing right. Nothing that I do is for you."
--:--
Later that night, when Draco had finally left her, Hermione sobbed into her pillow. She had been stripped of her dignity yet again, and the only witnesses to Draco's violation of her body could not speak.
Perhaps someday, somehow, or somewhere, Hermione could find the strength to let go of her secret and her fears. But for right now, all she could see in her future was the dark of her bedroom, slowly assuaging her pain and lulling her to sleep.
Author's Note: Excuse the reference to West Side Story, I thought it fit. Again, please rate/review, email me if you wish. Thank you.
