Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter :(
AN: Hi! I am cross-posting again. This was written in *frowns* August last year Otters and Ferrets: The Dramione Challenge on Tumblr (it's a graphic/drabble challenge, not to be confused with the recent fic exchange). The prompt was:
Would you mind if I hurt you - 'What Have You Done Now' by Within Temptation
Understand that I need to
Wish that I had other choices
Than to harm the one I love-
As much as I'd love it if you read this, I'm afraid I must warn that this is a dark story where Voldemort has won, and there will be a major character death.
Would You Mind...
by leopion
Every morning he would go down to the darkest dungeon's cell. They would hear her screams echo throughout the Manor and then see him emerge with a smirk on his face. No one dared question the Dark Lord's right-hand man's action or motive. Judging by the lack of visible wounds when the guard came in, they could only speculate that he tortured her then healed her to prepare for his sick entertainment the next day. They knew that the cowering Malfoy boy had transformed into this ruthless man the day he'd first tortured Hermione Granger—having been forced to do so in front of the Dark Lord. Perhaps his immense hatred for her had been the right catalyst to awake the demon within.
What they never knew was that he'd sneaked down to her cell that very night, that he'd cried, and that she'd been the one who'd consoled him. Her words had changed him, forever. They never knew that every morning he would kneel down by her side and ask softly, 'Would you mind if I hurt you?' although everything had been her idea. At first, her reply had come as, 'No, please go on.' Then it had been reduced to a single 'No' and eventually just a slight shake of her head. Her tattered throat was no longer cooperating, though somehow her screams still managed to escape and pierce through his heart.
He knew that she would always be consistent with her answer, but every day he would look at her, his eyes pleading for her to nod. Just a small nod, and he would abandon everything, abandon the mission he so despised. Their mission: killing Voldemort. Harry Potter might not have enough power to succeed, but the two of them did. That was why she transferred her magic to him so that one day he would be strong enough to banish the monster for good.
'One's magic should never run dry,' she had said. They would have nothing to worry about except the pain the spell would cause—nothing she could not bear. Yet, every morning as the new stream of magic coursed into his vein, he could feel its warmth fading. Every night as he slipped back to the dungeons and held her in his arms, he could feel her pulse weakening. They never had enough time to wait for her magic to re-generate itself.
Then came the day when the knowledge rendered him barely able to string together the words.
'Would you mind...' He gulped. 'This will kill you, Hermione… Please…'
His heart shattered when she shook her head. For the last time.
That morning the smirk was gone, replaced by the steely determination in his eyes. That morning he strode back to the throne room with her living in his heart. That morning they defeated Lord Voldemort.