A/N: yet another writing contest entry. it kinda ended in a different way that i imagined, but it'll do
No Where to Go – Hr/D
Hermione Granger, the girl everyone hated. She was a bookworm. She was smart and talented; and she didn't even bother to gloat about it. Hermione Granger was the girl everyone hated because she had the life almost everyone wanted. She had smarts, she had two great friends, she had adventures, and she was brave. She had beauty also, not drop-dead gorgeous beauty, but natural beauty that separated her from everyone else.
Hermione Granger, in other words, was as close to perfect as you could be.
When seventh year rolled around for the trio, thing had changed dramatically; and not just things concerning Voldemort. Far less students were at Hogwarts, including the First Years; people grew separated even within their own cliques, even the trio grew distant.
Harry would sit alone by himself, muttering the prophecy over and over again. He would occasionally be gone for day, maybe even a week; he would never allow Hermione and Ron to accompany him.
Hermione and Ron spent a lot of time together when Harry was gone, but eventually Hermione grew bored of Ron and his inability to hold an intellectual conversation. He would try, he really would and Hermione could tell but sometimes it would just get too frustrating. As the weeks waged one, they realized that Harry was the glue in their friendship and without him there was nothing holding them together.
Hermione slowly drifted away from the social scene only weeks after school started. She became the bookwormish girl she was back in her First Year before she actually became friends with Ron and Harry. She would spend her free time in the library where she devoured the books page by page, word by word. Being the Head Girl meant she had her own common room which meant when she was kicked out of the library; she went to her common room where she studied in silence.
As her last year at Hogwarts progressed, Hermione grew more and more depressed. She had no friends, she had no life, she had nothing. Her only friends were her books and her life consisted of homework and reading for fun. Towards the end of the year, her grades started to slip and personal hygiene became a thing of the past. She still took showers but her hair became unruly and tangled, her uniform was no longer kept clean and precise, and day-old make-up could still be seen smeared on her face.
And to make things worse, Hermione Granger, book-smart girl who loved to go to school, dropped out a week before final testing.
When she left Hogwarts, Hermione didn't go home but went to the Leaky Cauldron. If Tom was suspicious of a 17 year old buying a room for an undisclosed amount of time, he didn't show it; if he was curious as to why she was never seen out of her room until late at night when most of the customers had gone, he didn't show it; and if he was worried about her after a few glasses of beer when she stumbled back up the stairs, he didn't show it.
Hermione spent her days lying in bed either sleeping or thinking. She rarely ever ventured out of her room during the day. She preferred to hear the shouts than to be part of them. When the voices downstairs became soft and few, Hermione would then come downstairs to eat, drink, and not be merry.
When someone would walk into the pub that she recognized, Hermione would discreetly cover her face and quietly eat her food. No one ever did recognize her though. No one ever paid attention to the mad witch in the corner.
That is, no one recognized her until the pub was attacked.
It was just Hermione and Tom in the bar area of the inn when the door burst open. It had been two months since Hermione left Hogwarts and she had heard that the attacks had increased but never would have guessed they would attack the Leaky Cauldron. If they were going to Diagon Alley wouldn't they have used a different route?
The Death Eaters killed Tom right away but didn't notice Hermione shrinking away into the shadows.
"Most of the shops are closed in Diagon Alley which means it should be fairly empty. No unnecessary deaths, Marcus," one of the Death Eaters said as he strode into the room. He appeared to be the leader of the group. "We go in, get what we need, come back. Everyone get that?"
Hermione sat crouched in the corner with her hand over her mouth to keep from making any noise. Her breathing was rapid and her heart was beating loudly. She silently prayed that the men couldn't hear her.
"Dildum, Marcus, and Lowre, you three go to Diagon and the rest head over to Knockturn," the leader said as he headed over to the staircase that went upstairs to the rooms. "I'll meet you at Knockturn in a few minutes."
"Where are you going?" one of the men asked suspiciously.
"That is private, Marcus. Now go do your job, the Dark Lord is waiting," the leader said quietly. At the mention of Voldemort's name, the Death Eaters became fidgety and nervous; they hurried out of the room and into Diagon Alley.
Hermione was left alone in the room with the Death Eater leader. Her hand pressed harder against her mouth and her other hand gripped her arm; her nails dug into her skin.
The Death Eater looked up the stairs and then rushed up them, taking the stairs two at a time. Hermione could hear the faint squeaks of door opening and closing, but no screams of fear. She knew that there were other guests up stairs so why wasn't he killing them?
The leader came back down stairs after a few minutes and sat down in a chair. He sighed and took off his mask. This time, not even her hand could stop the noise of shock that escaped from Hermione's lips. It was Draco Malfoy.
Draco stood up in a hurry, causing the chair to be unsettled, and whipped out his wand.
"Who's there?" he called out in the general direction of where he thought the noise came from. Draco began to slowly walk over to the corner, pushing chairs and tables out of his way. Hermione could only shrink as far into the shadows as she could go.
"I said who's there?" Draco asked angrily as he reached into the shadows and pulled Hermione out.
Hermione became rigid and stiff as his hand stayed wrapped around her arm. Recognition slowly passed over Draco's face as he looked beneath the layers of dirt.
"Hermione?" Draco croaked, loosening his grip on his arm but still holding on. "Hermione Granger?"
Hermione remained silent as Draco enveloped her in an awkward hug.
"What are you doing?" Hermione whispered quietly, unable to speak any louder because Draco was crushing her so hard with his hug.
"Hermione, it's me, Draco Malfoy. Don't you remember me?" Draco asked, pulling away, but keeping his hand around her wrist.
"Yeah, I remember you but why are you hugging me?" Hermione asked, taking a step away from him. She hadn't talked anyone from Hogwarts since she left and now the first person she did talk to was Draco Malfoy?
"When you left Hogwarts, people were worried. People searched for you for weeks," Draco said.
"You weren't even there, how did you know I left?" Hermione questioned.
"I have my ways," Draco shrugged. "I was worried about you; I thought the Dark Lord had killed you."
"Why would you care? Aren't you working for him now?" Hermione asked angrily, gesturing toward the mask on the table. "Besides, I'm just a Mudblood; you shouldn't be worried about me."
"Well, guess what, I did worry. I've been searching for you when others stopped. And you aren't just a Mudblood, not to me," Draco said, his grip on her wrist, tightening.
"Oh please," Hermione spat. "Don't tell me you're falling in love with me or whatever." Draco recoiled at the thought.
"Don't flatter your self Hermione," Draco said back. "It was just kind of curious as to why the smartest girl in our class dropped out of school a week before testing, your favorite time of the year. I just thought I'd help you."
"Well I don't need your help," Hermione said, ripping her wrist out of his grip and stumbling toward the stairs. Arms wrapped around her waist as she stumbled and almost fell into a table.
"What have you been drinking?" Draco asked, concern in his voice.
"Nothing!" Hermione exclaimed forcefully.
"You aren't going anywhere," Draco said, seeing through the small lie. "You're coming home with me."
"No I'm not," Hermione said weakly, slumping in his arm. "I'm staying here." With those last words, Hermione passed out in his arms.
"Nothing my ass. You've probably been drinking all night," Draco grunted as he hoisted Hermione over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "The things I do for people."
Three Months Later
"What are we doing here Draco?" Hermione asked fearfully. The full moon and gravestones were scaring here. "Come on, let's just go back home."
"It's ok Hermione. I won't let you get hurt, I promise," Draco said, taking her hand in his as a way to comfort her.
"I trust you Draco," Hermione whispered, leaning closer to him.
"I know," Draco replied as cloaked figures closed in around the duo.
Five Months Later
Eight months. It's been eight months since Hermione was saved from her ruined life by Draco Malfoy. If someone would look between the two Hermione's, one from the past and one from the present, they wouldn't even think they were friends. So much as changed for Hermione since then. She grooms herself daily, wears only the finest clothing, and has begun studying again but not in an obsessive manner. The biggest change for her yet, though, is that she is living with Draco Malfoy.
When Draco took Hermione in, she wasn't very understanding and wanted to leave, but Draco wouldn't let her. Slowly, but surely, Hermione took his home as her own and their relationship blossomed. To be technical with their relationship, you could say they were a couple, but they never acted like it. They were rarely seen in the same room, barely ever talked, and didn't even sleep in the same bed. But they had a mutual love for each other.
When Draco and Hermione did talk, they would only talk about books. Draco's life and what he did was never mentioned. Hermione's past life was never mentioned either. Occasionally Draco would ask what Hermione did that day but it always returned to books.
Today was different, though. Today, Draco was on the happier side and was itching to say something.
"We're getting married," Draco said when he walked into the library where Hermione sat reading.
"We're-what?" Hermione questioned. She put the book down and stared up at Draco.
"We've lived together long enough and the Dark Lord approves of you; it's only to be expected," Draco said nonchalantly as he picked up the book Hermione had set down and started to flip through it.
"I had to be approved of?" Hermione asked, raising her eyebrow.
"Of course," Draco laughed, putting the book back down on the table, "you didn't expect the Dark Lord to let me marry a Mudblood or someone like that, did you?"
"Excuse me?" Hermione demanded, her anger flaring.
"Hermione, darling, you aren't like that anymore. You're on our side, my side," Draco in a soothing voice, rubbing his hands up and down her arms in a way to subside her anger.
"I am? I don't remember signing any contract," Hermione said as she stood up, her cheeks read with anger.
Draco stood up as well, his eyes slits of rage. "A contract?" Draco walked over to Hermione and grabbed her left wrist. "Here's your contract." Draco shoved her sleeve up to the elbow to reveal the grotesque mark.
Hermione looked away and tore her arm out of his hand. She smoothed out her sleeve and look back at Draco, tears shining in her eyes.
"You can't force me to marry you," Hermione said, through clenched teeth. She moved out of the room, knocking Draco off balance as she went by.
"Oh yes I can," Draco said, following her into the hall. "Besides, you won't refuse because you have no where to go."
"I'll find some place," Hermione stated as she continued to walk away from Draco.
"Where? Half of your friends are dead and the other half won't let you in when they see that mark. They don't even know that you're alive. They obviously didn't care about you enough to keep searching," Draco yelled up the stairway Hermione was climbing. She froze at his words. "Are you going to go back to the Leaky Cauldron? Become a drunk again?"
"I was not a drunk," Hermione blushed.
"You were stumbling across the floor. You couldn't even hold your self up when I found you. You had no self-respect; your hair hadn't been washed in weeks," Draco sneered. Hermione could only recoil at the true statements. "You were a bum, lower than that. The smartest witch in our year, and possibly the years surrounding, reduced to a cheap liquor and ragged clothes."
Hermione sank down on the steps as her past life flooded back to her. She would never be able to return, she knew that.
"Fine."
Nine Months Later
Hermione walked up the pathway as slowly as possible. What was she doing? She shouldn't be here. She wouldn't be wanted here. She knew that so why was she even trying?
Voldemort was gone for good. Harry had defeated him last month. Hermione had just now plucked up enough courage to face her old friends. After Draco had been killed in the final battle, she refused to go back to Malfoy Manor.
Eight months of hell. Hermione had been married to Draco for about eight months and it had been hell. The only change in their relationship is that they talked a lot less and argued when they did finally talk. Needless to say, it wasn't a happy marriage for Hermione.
But Hermione was back now. She was going to forget everything that had happened to her in the past two years.
Hermione walked up the stairs that led up the door and stopped. She subconsciously started to rub her left forearm, which became a habit when she was nervous after getting married to Draco, as she reached up to knock on the door. Before she could, though, it opened.
"Her-"
Hermione cut him off before he could finish. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she cried, unable to look at Harry.
"Hermione, what's wrong?" Harry asked as Ron came up behind him.
"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed, struggling to get to him. Harry held him back though.
"I am so sorry," she cried, her words difficult to understand. Hermione slowly lifted her sleeve to reveal the Dark Mark. "I'm so sorry."
A/N: hope you enjoyed, Review!