Something about her always drew me in; always made me stall for a second before choosing my next action, until that one night. Now as I sit here and think of all the mistakes that I made…it was no wonder that she left me for the Dark side. It holds this sort of power over people, and once you are under its hold, it does not let you go. I blame myself, personally for allowing her to go out into the Wizarding World by herself. That's when they caught her, that's when she became a foreigner to us. I talked to her the other day at her office. She had made a life for herself after Azkaban, but that Mark, the one that I forced her to get, still taints her ivory skin. She used to be perfect but now she is blemished…
Hermione Granger-Malfoy placed the newspaper back on the table and sighed. He was at it again, telling her story, begging her to leave her husband through his words. Ron had said all of that to her the night before and then again three months back. The fact of the matter is, she was not on the Light side anymore, nor could she ever be, because they had left her alone. She was Queen now, and Draco was King. But they did not rule a dark Wizarding World, no not at all…but the way that they got to where they are is dark. Placing her thumping head in her hands she sighed and sipped on her coffee. Her ring was cool against her flaming skin and she was still content. With a sad smile…she remembered.
It always starts out the same…she thought to herself as she walked down the hallway. Girl immediately dislikes boy, boy wants to get to know her…but in return hates her, fate and damned teachers force them together, girl gets mad, boy gets horny, boy kisses girl, girl gives in to temptation, boy is perplexed, girl is breathless, a fit of passion could never be more fun. That's how it all started with her and Malfoy. And now, here she was, walking down the hallway towards her Head Meeting. Malfoy would be there of course, he always was. Even though they had shown each other what they held so dear to them, they could never be more of enemies. The truth of it was…they hated each other, truly, madly, deeply.
McGonagall loved the cold, so that's why she was shivering. That's how he came to place his wool cloak around her shoulders because she had carelessly forgotten hers. At the end of that meeting, nothing would ever be the same between them again. They had already learned to get along…but what she was asking was a completely different story. She wanted teamwork, while pretending. They were not miracle workers, and what she was asking for was an extreme stretch. One that they would have to take to better their world. At the end of that meeting, she knew that they were on the same team, truly, madly, deeply.
"Miss. Granger, Mr. Malfoy, please sit down." They complied. She raised her eyes to their level and began her monologue.
"You both signed up to join the Order when you were seventeen. I know that this is a huge responsibility that I am about to bestow upon you, and it saddens me greatly, but he would not suspect you. Especially Mr. Malfoy." She glanced in his direction and he nodded slowly, urging her to continue. Hermione was scared. The Professor continued. "You-Know-Who is recruiting," Hermione's heart stopped. "And the two of you are going to join his ranks. Obviously, if it could have been anybody else, it would be, but Draco, your dad used to be one of them. And Hermione, he would love to have a Muggle-born on his team. What would make him happier that to have something that he loathes on his side to show the world that he was the Great Power, as he claims?" Draco nodded while glancing at Hermione. He could see her shaking.
Thirty minutes later, Hermione was walking before him in his cloak; the heavy fabric seemed to place extra weight on her shoulders. She was slouching and seemed more subdued then anytime before. Talking longer strides he approached her. His pale arm circled her shoulders and she let out a sob. The situation was uncomfortable enough as she buried her face in his chest and cried. Slowly he patted her head like she was a dog, and still in his eyes…she was. But by that time…he had come to love her.
"Don't worry pet…I'll always protect you." It was a promise that he would always keep. She sobbed and he roughly grabbed her and pulled her body into his, comforting her, nothing would hurt her as long as he was around.
They were initiated the next week. Voldemort could not be more please. He placed the Mark on Hermione's arm himself. And while the wand burned the dreaded thing in her arm she never cried. They were finally in the Death Eaters ranks, and now is where everything started.
It wasn't until a month later when she had to make her first kill. She knew the person…well. But all the time she trained her wand at his pale chest, she never cried. She bellowed the curse and watched his body fall. They, the rest of her rank, were scared of her. She was ruthless with the hatred that ran through her veins. Stooping to check his pulse she sighed and stood with her back to him.
"I told you to run." She muttered, before walking out of the house. The raid was done. Draco and Hermione moved up a rank. There were still so many small battles until the final one. They all lost her in that time, she became devoted to making sure that they did not get caught, in fact, she became the Dark Lord himself. Slowly, she made her way up the ranks with Draco by her side.
He set her the task of killing her own parents. She did not even blink an eye when she pointed her wand at them. She was too far gone at this point, it was survival of the fittest, Kill or be Killed. She would rather kill. Don't take it the wrong way, she still had that same caring heart, but she was numb. Truly, madly, deeply. She was numb.
After that: Hermione and Draco were his right hand warriors. They did his bidding, but there was no where else to go, except through the last door. He gave them the power. If he died, they would take his place. Hermione smiled and Draco smirked. They were exactly where they were supposed to be.
The final battle was when she inflicted so much pain and so much pain was inflicted upon her. She killed so many that day, so many dead, so many alive. So many that she had to kill. Hermione never once faltered, and that scared the hell out of all of them. She killed her own parents and never shed a tear. What made them think that when the Dark Lord finally fell, that she would not train her wand on them as well?
The day dawned with the prospect of death. It hung in the air and clung to their skin. She felt energized; this is what she had been waiting for. King's Cross station loomed in front of their line of view after they apparated. Draco hugged her small but strong form to his body and kissed her forehead lightly.
"I love you." He whispered. Her eyes softened for a moment.
"I love you too." Slowly, like she didn't want to, she returned to the shell that she had become over that short year. He gripped her hand and walked with her through the barrier that led the way to the Hogwarts Express. The final battle would happen there. She smiled up at him before kissing him a final time, and then she was gone.
The Order arrived shortly thereafter, and following orders, they were told not to kill her or Draco. But they killed them, on Draco's part, it was the ultimate betrayal, but in her mind, she was just doing her job. Ron…. She apologized while a tear fell from her honey brown eyes.
"I'm sorry Ron; he'd kill me if he knew that I didn't kill you." Fear laced through his eyes and face, and her heart melted. She closed her eyes and tossed her head, signaling for him to get the out of her way. She would not be held responsible for what she did the next time that they met. They never did meet again though, McNair killed him before her eyes opened again. She stepped over his body, never looking down at his body, slowly becoming cold. He was just another statistic at that moment. Another one bites the dust. He was gone. The mark burned her arm but she ignored it. She knew when he was calling for her and Draco. He had done so the night before while they lay tangled in the sheets. His cock still plunged inside of her, filling her with his seed, making her see that he would always be there. Even if he died, she knew that she would be with child. After a night like that who could not be?
After a full day of endless battle she came face to face with Harry. His eyes were hollow and his cheeks were sunken in. Her hand reached out to trace the lightening bolt scar before she hastily placed her lips to his. He kissed back, brotherly more than sexually. Her tongue pushed a piece of parchment into his mouth, the details on the parchment were clear. All he had to do was follow them. Her mission was complete. She turned her wand on her fellow Death Eaters. The first one that she killed was McNair. He took Ron from her. She was mad. Her old self slowly slipped back and on top of the ruthlessness, she was merciless. She was out for blood.
Hermione's mental toll was steadily climbing. She was killing so many, so many friends, foes. At the end of this…she concluded…I will snap my wand and buy a new one. This one was destined to do horrible things.
It was then that her entire body exploded in pain. She fell to her knees clutching her left arm. She was seeing red as the power that was being destroyed ripped through her body. She cried, not from the pain, but from the sick sense of betrayal she felt. Even at the end, she still considered herself more of a Death Eater than a Phoenix. And was that wrong? They must have known that she would end up like that, a empty shell of Dark Arts. They sent her to her demise, but she did not know that it would end like this. The pain grew as Voldemort was being pushed further and further to death. Her scream could be heard, echoing that of Draco's a few paces left of her.
Before she passed out, he clamped a hand onto her shoulder. They apparated to Headquarters. The basement was so cold, and no matter if they landed in Alaska or the Sahara, their bodies would still be burning. In a final moment, she realized that this was the power, Voldemort got off on feeling somebody's pain as he killed them. She concluded that she did not like this feeling.
It was all over the papers the next day. The war, the death, who had won. She still felt guilty as the pain finally subsided. McGonagall collected them both and brought them to the Phoenix headquarters. Looks of betrayal came from all the people in the room…then McGonagall explained. They were forgiven, but then came the part where they had to tell them that they held the power. Nobody was smiling. It was known, that after a day, the power would take over if they did not decide what to do with it. Immediately they looked around the room and smiled. They all knew what they were thinking.
Standing in that white room, still dirty from the war, they snapped their wands. They were done with evil…or so the world thought.
Hermione's head snapped up as she heard the door opening. Draco walked over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. She looked into his gray eyes with the flecks of red. She hated those flecks of red, they reminded her of that year of her life. Draco thought the same thing about the flecks of red in her eyes.
"Thinking about that year pet?" He asked as he poured himself a cup of coffee. She nodded.
"We can always change out minds." He muttered to her. She shook her head.
"We were loyal, we still have to be loyal. You remember his last words to us. Lead them into a false sense of security, and then start it up again. Make sure that they do not have the man power to stop you. That's it Draco, these red flecks will never go away as long as his power runs through our veins." He hung his head and nodded. They were loyal...to Voldemort...Truly, Madly, Deeply...
"Then we strike at midnight."
-fin-