author: Brandi Vincent
disclaimer: I wish I own Malfoy. But I don't. So there. Nah. J.K. Rowling does, and hey, I'm an amature author, you can't sue me for writing non- published work using her characters!
general: lust, angst, blah blah
rating: This chapter...who knows. It'll get more...bad.
author's note: Hi. Another Haermione and Draco fic. I hope the plot isn't too corney or something like that...well I'm tired right now, so don't complain when I'm pissed with the sleep dust.
-Chapter 1: Abuse by Horror-
"Get your lazy ass down here right now!!" The shrill voice of a paranoid father called up the high, marble stairs. Malfoy rolled over in his black sheeted bed, trying to forget the dream he just had. He often just shut off his brain until it was morning and his nutcase father screamed up to his room. He expected the most out of Malfoy. The best grades. Cursing mudbloods. Which Malfoy tried to please him. But it was never enough. The cranky git was never pleased, only in public, he ever showed happiness (rarely also). Malfoy got up out of his bed, slumping a little towards his closet. Then he took a glance at his Dark Curses calender. A wide pleasing grin crossed his face. It was his final year at Hogwarts, his final year at home. His final year of all the temptations he's been awaiting. The very day he's been looking forward to all summer. But not to mention, when Voldemort would attack. All of the Death Eaters have been awaiting this day at the very point where they would curse a clock to go forward. Malfoy glanced at the skull on his left forearm. It was there, faded a bit, but nonetheless there. He had gotten it last year over Christmas. Though it was hard to notice, since there were scars and bruises all around his arms and chest. His father was evil, and he took out his anger on Draco. Though how he hated his father, he supported Voldemort. There were two very different things about them. Malfoy had grown stronger over the few years he's been abused by his father, Lucius Malfoy. Most of the time he fought back, but rarely ever won a fight. His small family was like that, and it remained like that. But this year was different for him. It was his year to shine. His year to see the blood of the innocent splatter all over their dead faces. His year to do what he wanted.
~~~~~~
"You can't be serious, mum." Hermione looked at her mother in disbelief, sinking into the couch.
"I'm sorry, dear. It does say here in black ink that you must." Her mother replied, looking depressed as well.
"But I can't. Why can't I go with Ron and his family??" Hermione pleaded, gripping the corners of the arm chair tightly.
"Dumbledore's orders, sorry to say." Her mother replied.
"Why would he do something like that?? Out of all people, me??"
"Ron and Harry have to do it as well, honey. To stay clear of that villian the wizard folk hate so much."
"Voldemort..."
"Yes, whatever, my point is that the students are chosen at random, and you will be going, for your own safty. They say you're not safe at Hogwarts nor your own home. None of the students are. Voldemort's plan is to strike all of the non-supporters. And who knows who is and isn't. They could be anybody. Alot don't have that mark you talk about on their forearm...yet...and Dumbledore's not taking any chances."
"But why can't I atleast stay here??"
"Out of all people you should know that, Hermione. Voldemort knows exactly now where every student lives, and he won't hesitate to strike at anytime."
"But why him?? Doesn't Dumbledore know that Malfoy probably is a Death Eater??"
"I worry for your own safty alot, Hermione. OK, work this out, Voldemort is striking all of the students first, do you know why?? Because the younger you are the easier to kill. He'll get even more powerful and control the earth as we speak if he gets you all. He obsorves the energy is what I hear and then he takes off for the rest, OK? And that's why you all have to seperate into different families for some reason until the Ministry figures out what to do."
"At random?? The Malfoys shouldn't even be considered!"
"Please, Hermione, think of just not yourself but every other Muggle that has no idea what's going on. And every other student that might die. Figure it out!"
"I-I have to go live with the Malfoy's and head off somewhere??"
"Because they can track you down when you're with your own families."
"Where do I have to go??"
"Well your father and I'm assigned to take these other students off to some place in London. Some have to head out of the country. Do you understand what I mean, Hermione?"
"Yes."
"Do you understand where you must go?"
"Yes."
"Then let's go." Hermione's voice was nothing compared to her mother's frightened but confident voice. Hermione kept her head down the entire time out to the car as they drove off.
~~~~~~
At the very same moment as Hermione's family's reactions, Malfoy had headed down the long stair well and into the kitchen, where he sat until his father addressed him to look up.
"Draco. I just got a letter last night." Lucius said, looking down at a piece of parchment. Malfoy looked up, confused. Never had his father said anything to him without screaming or throwing an antique pot his way and blaiming him when it shattered against a wall or Malfoy's head. Though he remained silent, not wanting his father's short tempers to rise. "It seems Dumbledore's got it in for Voldemort after all this year." Lucius looked at him dead in the eye, and Malfoy looked down again quickly. Voice shrilling, Lucius went on. "We're to take a student away from here or Voldemort will find us and...kill us?? Are they mad! Sending this to a Malfoy! Of all Death Eaters and Voldemort supporters!! They must be! They didn't even care to leave a name on who's to be away with us! Well I'm not sending you away to any old crack pott family! You're staying here to not be cushied around. Disipline is the real answer. And this other student must get that clear as well. Who knows if it's some sort of disgusting mudblood??" Lucius stomped around the long glass table to Malfoy, he remained quietly respectful. "You told them, didn't you??" He grabbed the closest item, which happened to be a clear glass, and threw it on Malfoy's back. Husking in pain, Malfoy only arched his back, not attacking by the least.
"I did not tell anyone, father. I support Voldemort. Our day will shine soon." Malfoy replied, not daring to look into the eyes of the mad man that laid before him.
"It should shine this year!" He smacked Malfoy hard against his head and turned around swiftly. "Well somebody found out and told. Somebody...who...I have to inform Voldemort and the other Death Eaters immediatly." He turned back to Malfoy. "You move from that chair, and you'll find out what real pain it is to have a scar across your cheek." He turned around again and stalked out of the kitchen. Real pain? Malfoy knew quite well what real pain was. He had felt it for years and years. He was surprised he wasn't dead by now. And move from the chair would be brave and foolish. But it was true, Malfoy had a long scar across his left cheek since Lucius got drunk one Christmas Eve and challenged his son a fight. Malfoy was just as mad about the letter as his father, for he wanted to get away, but he couldn't. And to top it off, he had to spend his last days with some other idiot. Dumbledore just ruined everything for them now, and he would get his rightful revenge. Malfoy's thoughts were interrupted a moment later by the rattling noise of the polished white door of the mansion he lived in. Lucius poked his head in the kitchen. "Get that, worthless shit!" He yelled and returned to his business. Malfoy got up, happily to be away from the kitchen where he had been abused so many times and sliced open of his skin from the brutal knives. Running down the decorated halls, he finally reached the wide doors of the front yard and opened it, exposing one young woman and one old one. Surprised to actually see someone ever walk upon the drive of his home, he looked at them.
"...May I help you?" He finally said, expecting them to come clean.
"Yes, we got this letter from Dumbledore saying we must attend my daughter to...live here with your family." Mrs. Granger gasped, realizing she wouldn'r see her daighter for a very long time. Malfoy turned his lazy eyes from the old woman to the young and beautiful one. Not noticing right away who she was, she starred at her a moment. Then realized who he was gaping at. Hermione Granger. Head Girl. Straight A's. And absolutly irresistable. Hermione knew him all too well right away before he found out who she was. Draco Malfoy. Evil. Dark. Secretly Death Eater. And...built. He had the most perfect body than most seventeen year olds did. Great muscles. Abs. Tall. Cute. Dark. Gothic. While she was a head and a half below him. Wavy hair. Pretty. Big breasts (which Ron noticed alot). Nice shape. They both stood there sizing each other, than got out of the trance.
"So. You're the girl that is supposed to be staying with us." Malfoy sneered. He mustn't let his father know what she was, or he'd kill her in an instant. Although it be a delight to see, he restrained himself from doing so.
"Well, Hermione, I guess that is good bye for now, honey." Her mother sobbed and hugged Hermione tightly. "Remember we are always there for you."
"Yes, mum. I love you too." Hermione whispered back. Her mother gave a final smile, and headed back to the muggle car. Hermione was left standing on the porch with Malfoy.
"Wierd mum." Malfoy muttered and went back inside, expecting Hermione to follow. After a moment, she did so.
"As much as I hate to say this, Malfoy, but which room will I be staying in?" She brought along her brown trunk full of possessions she needed and/or wanted. Malfoy sneered and turned back to her.
"Let's see, shall we?" HE asked and kept walking, towards the presence of his father.
~~~~~~
Lucius looked up from his lettering and sniffed the air.
"Something does not smell right." He mumbled to himself, but then shrugged it off. A knock on the door made the auror return. "What?!" He shrieked and slammed open the door.
"Our visitor, sir. She wishes to know where she will stay." Malfoy replied pointing to Hermione.
"Ah, the guest. All of the rooms are under maintenence and decorating for a while, she will stay in your room." Closing the door and their shocked and disbelieving faces, he chuckled to himself. He loved ruining things.
~~~~~~
"Don't touch any of my stuff. Don't touch that. Don't touch this. Nothing." Malfoy instructed, showing her his room.
"Like I would." She muttered.
"And one more thing. Never talk back to me while you are under my presence in my room and house." Malfoy added.
"Why?" Hermione rolled her eyes. As quickly as she said it, Malfoy had his hand to her throat against his black painted wall, practicaly choking her, and slapped her across her cheek with the other hand.
"That's why." He said, roughly letting go of the wincing witch. Hermione didn't say anything more. She already dreaded the very moment she had gotten the letter from which her mother read, and this was going to be worse. Tons worse. He was stronger now. Stronger than ever before, and she couldn't stop his force. Even if she had Ron by her side, which she mourned from which she thought about him. She missed him. And Harry. Both were her very best friends, but now she couldn't see them for who knows how long. Being stuck with the most lusted over and alot hated over guy in the school was going to be touch. After all, she IS only female. A bit of fantasies about somebody as hot as him was normal for girls. But he was Malfoy, and for her that wasn't normal.
-TBC-
disclaimer: I wish I own Malfoy. But I don't. So there. Nah. J.K. Rowling does, and hey, I'm an amature author, you can't sue me for writing non- published work using her characters!
general: lust, angst, blah blah
rating: This chapter...who knows. It'll get more...bad.
author's note: Hi. Another Haermione and Draco fic. I hope the plot isn't too corney or something like that...well I'm tired right now, so don't complain when I'm pissed with the sleep dust.
-Chapter 1: Abuse by Horror-
"Get your lazy ass down here right now!!" The shrill voice of a paranoid father called up the high, marble stairs. Malfoy rolled over in his black sheeted bed, trying to forget the dream he just had. He often just shut off his brain until it was morning and his nutcase father screamed up to his room. He expected the most out of Malfoy. The best grades. Cursing mudbloods. Which Malfoy tried to please him. But it was never enough. The cranky git was never pleased, only in public, he ever showed happiness (rarely also). Malfoy got up out of his bed, slumping a little towards his closet. Then he took a glance at his Dark Curses calender. A wide pleasing grin crossed his face. It was his final year at Hogwarts, his final year at home. His final year of all the temptations he's been awaiting. The very day he's been looking forward to all summer. But not to mention, when Voldemort would attack. All of the Death Eaters have been awaiting this day at the very point where they would curse a clock to go forward. Malfoy glanced at the skull on his left forearm. It was there, faded a bit, but nonetheless there. He had gotten it last year over Christmas. Though it was hard to notice, since there were scars and bruises all around his arms and chest. His father was evil, and he took out his anger on Draco. Though how he hated his father, he supported Voldemort. There were two very different things about them. Malfoy had grown stronger over the few years he's been abused by his father, Lucius Malfoy. Most of the time he fought back, but rarely ever won a fight. His small family was like that, and it remained like that. But this year was different for him. It was his year to shine. His year to see the blood of the innocent splatter all over their dead faces. His year to do what he wanted.
~~~~~~
"You can't be serious, mum." Hermione looked at her mother in disbelief, sinking into the couch.
"I'm sorry, dear. It does say here in black ink that you must." Her mother replied, looking depressed as well.
"But I can't. Why can't I go with Ron and his family??" Hermione pleaded, gripping the corners of the arm chair tightly.
"Dumbledore's orders, sorry to say." Her mother replied.
"Why would he do something like that?? Out of all people, me??"
"Ron and Harry have to do it as well, honey. To stay clear of that villian the wizard folk hate so much."
"Voldemort..."
"Yes, whatever, my point is that the students are chosen at random, and you will be going, for your own safty. They say you're not safe at Hogwarts nor your own home. None of the students are. Voldemort's plan is to strike all of the non-supporters. And who knows who is and isn't. They could be anybody. Alot don't have that mark you talk about on their forearm...yet...and Dumbledore's not taking any chances."
"But why can't I atleast stay here??"
"Out of all people you should know that, Hermione. Voldemort knows exactly now where every student lives, and he won't hesitate to strike at anytime."
"But why him?? Doesn't Dumbledore know that Malfoy probably is a Death Eater??"
"I worry for your own safty alot, Hermione. OK, work this out, Voldemort is striking all of the students first, do you know why?? Because the younger you are the easier to kill. He'll get even more powerful and control the earth as we speak if he gets you all. He obsorves the energy is what I hear and then he takes off for the rest, OK? And that's why you all have to seperate into different families for some reason until the Ministry figures out what to do."
"At random?? The Malfoys shouldn't even be considered!"
"Please, Hermione, think of just not yourself but every other Muggle that has no idea what's going on. And every other student that might die. Figure it out!"
"I-I have to go live with the Malfoy's and head off somewhere??"
"Because they can track you down when you're with your own families."
"Where do I have to go??"
"Well your father and I'm assigned to take these other students off to some place in London. Some have to head out of the country. Do you understand what I mean, Hermione?"
"Yes."
"Do you understand where you must go?"
"Yes."
"Then let's go." Hermione's voice was nothing compared to her mother's frightened but confident voice. Hermione kept her head down the entire time out to the car as they drove off.
~~~~~~
At the very same moment as Hermione's family's reactions, Malfoy had headed down the long stair well and into the kitchen, where he sat until his father addressed him to look up.
"Draco. I just got a letter last night." Lucius said, looking down at a piece of parchment. Malfoy looked up, confused. Never had his father said anything to him without screaming or throwing an antique pot his way and blaiming him when it shattered against a wall or Malfoy's head. Though he remained silent, not wanting his father's short tempers to rise. "It seems Dumbledore's got it in for Voldemort after all this year." Lucius looked at him dead in the eye, and Malfoy looked down again quickly. Voice shrilling, Lucius went on. "We're to take a student away from here or Voldemort will find us and...kill us?? Are they mad! Sending this to a Malfoy! Of all Death Eaters and Voldemort supporters!! They must be! They didn't even care to leave a name on who's to be away with us! Well I'm not sending you away to any old crack pott family! You're staying here to not be cushied around. Disipline is the real answer. And this other student must get that clear as well. Who knows if it's some sort of disgusting mudblood??" Lucius stomped around the long glass table to Malfoy, he remained quietly respectful. "You told them, didn't you??" He grabbed the closest item, which happened to be a clear glass, and threw it on Malfoy's back. Husking in pain, Malfoy only arched his back, not attacking by the least.
"I did not tell anyone, father. I support Voldemort. Our day will shine soon." Malfoy replied, not daring to look into the eyes of the mad man that laid before him.
"It should shine this year!" He smacked Malfoy hard against his head and turned around swiftly. "Well somebody found out and told. Somebody...who...I have to inform Voldemort and the other Death Eaters immediatly." He turned back to Malfoy. "You move from that chair, and you'll find out what real pain it is to have a scar across your cheek." He turned around again and stalked out of the kitchen. Real pain? Malfoy knew quite well what real pain was. He had felt it for years and years. He was surprised he wasn't dead by now. And move from the chair would be brave and foolish. But it was true, Malfoy had a long scar across his left cheek since Lucius got drunk one Christmas Eve and challenged his son a fight. Malfoy was just as mad about the letter as his father, for he wanted to get away, but he couldn't. And to top it off, he had to spend his last days with some other idiot. Dumbledore just ruined everything for them now, and he would get his rightful revenge. Malfoy's thoughts were interrupted a moment later by the rattling noise of the polished white door of the mansion he lived in. Lucius poked his head in the kitchen. "Get that, worthless shit!" He yelled and returned to his business. Malfoy got up, happily to be away from the kitchen where he had been abused so many times and sliced open of his skin from the brutal knives. Running down the decorated halls, he finally reached the wide doors of the front yard and opened it, exposing one young woman and one old one. Surprised to actually see someone ever walk upon the drive of his home, he looked at them.
"...May I help you?" He finally said, expecting them to come clean.
"Yes, we got this letter from Dumbledore saying we must attend my daughter to...live here with your family." Mrs. Granger gasped, realizing she wouldn'r see her daighter for a very long time. Malfoy turned his lazy eyes from the old woman to the young and beautiful one. Not noticing right away who she was, she starred at her a moment. Then realized who he was gaping at. Hermione Granger. Head Girl. Straight A's. And absolutly irresistable. Hermione knew him all too well right away before he found out who she was. Draco Malfoy. Evil. Dark. Secretly Death Eater. And...built. He had the most perfect body than most seventeen year olds did. Great muscles. Abs. Tall. Cute. Dark. Gothic. While she was a head and a half below him. Wavy hair. Pretty. Big breasts (which Ron noticed alot). Nice shape. They both stood there sizing each other, than got out of the trance.
"So. You're the girl that is supposed to be staying with us." Malfoy sneered. He mustn't let his father know what she was, or he'd kill her in an instant. Although it be a delight to see, he restrained himself from doing so.
"Well, Hermione, I guess that is good bye for now, honey." Her mother sobbed and hugged Hermione tightly. "Remember we are always there for you."
"Yes, mum. I love you too." Hermione whispered back. Her mother gave a final smile, and headed back to the muggle car. Hermione was left standing on the porch with Malfoy.
"Wierd mum." Malfoy muttered and went back inside, expecting Hermione to follow. After a moment, she did so.
"As much as I hate to say this, Malfoy, but which room will I be staying in?" She brought along her brown trunk full of possessions she needed and/or wanted. Malfoy sneered and turned back to her.
"Let's see, shall we?" HE asked and kept walking, towards the presence of his father.
~~~~~~
Lucius looked up from his lettering and sniffed the air.
"Something does not smell right." He mumbled to himself, but then shrugged it off. A knock on the door made the auror return. "What?!" He shrieked and slammed open the door.
"Our visitor, sir. She wishes to know where she will stay." Malfoy replied pointing to Hermione.
"Ah, the guest. All of the rooms are under maintenence and decorating for a while, she will stay in your room." Closing the door and their shocked and disbelieving faces, he chuckled to himself. He loved ruining things.
~~~~~~
"Don't touch any of my stuff. Don't touch that. Don't touch this. Nothing." Malfoy instructed, showing her his room.
"Like I would." She muttered.
"And one more thing. Never talk back to me while you are under my presence in my room and house." Malfoy added.
"Why?" Hermione rolled her eyes. As quickly as she said it, Malfoy had his hand to her throat against his black painted wall, practicaly choking her, and slapped her across her cheek with the other hand.
"That's why." He said, roughly letting go of the wincing witch. Hermione didn't say anything more. She already dreaded the very moment she had gotten the letter from which her mother read, and this was going to be worse. Tons worse. He was stronger now. Stronger than ever before, and she couldn't stop his force. Even if she had Ron by her side, which she mourned from which she thought about him. She missed him. And Harry. Both were her very best friends, but now she couldn't see them for who knows how long. Being stuck with the most lusted over and alot hated over guy in the school was going to be touch. After all, she IS only female. A bit of fantasies about somebody as hot as him was normal for girls. But he was Malfoy, and for her that wasn't normal.
-TBC-