So, this is my new Dramione fic. I'm trying to keep it original, but really, there are so many great ideas out there that nothing is really original anymore. But we'll see how this goes. You'll have to let me know if you like it!
This disclaimer goes with all subsequent chapters: I do not own Harry Potter or anything related. Only the plot and anything that sounds like it is original is mine. Huge props to JKR.
Hermione woke up in a daze and looked around her. She was lying in a pair of strong arms, being carried down a dark torch-lit corridor. She looked to see who held her but his face (she assumed it was a man by the smell of the cologne) was in shadow, covered by his hood. He looked down at her, judging by the movement of the cloak's hood, and he whispered "Go back to sleep, Hermione. You're safe with me." In her daze, Hermione believed him, and drifted back into oblivion, away from the troubles that had plagued her.
The next time she awoke, she was alone in a dark room, in a large bed. The satin sheets were cool as she rolled over onto her stomach, and she drifted back to sleep.
She was awakened by the sound of heavy drapes being opened, and soft morning light penetrated the bedroom, and she could observe everything clearly. She lay in a four-poster bed that was dressed with navy blue satin sheets. The room was large and the furniture in it was all very dark. The room was unfamiliar.
She looked about to see who had opened the drapes, but there was no one there. Curious.
Outside the French doors that the drapes had been covering, Hermione saw there was a balcony. Getting out of the bed, she put on a flannel dressing gown she saw lying on the chest at the foot of the bed. She opened the door, and a cool morning breeze blew in, carrying on it the deliciously tart scent of the ocean and rain, as well as the sounds of early morning birds. She stood at the rails, and watched the shore, a mere ten meters from the building she occupied. The water crashed onto the sand, and then receded back to the sea. Crash and recede, crash and recede.
The cool air helped to wake her up and Hermione soon came to her senses. Where was she? Whose house was this? And more importantly, who had been carrying her last night? Going back into the room, Hermione discovered a note laying on an antique vanity across the room from the bed.
Miss Granger—
Good morning. I hope you slept pleasantly. There are Muggle clothes set out for you in the bathroom. When you've dressed, please come downstairs (make a left at the hallway outside your door, follow it to the end of the hall, go down two flights of stairs and you will find the library). It is a rather awkward situation that we find ourselves in, so it would be best we talk it out. I'll be in the library waiting for you.
--Your humble servant
There was no signature. With no comment beyond raised eyebrows, Hermione went through a door to her left and entered a rather beautiful bathroom. Everything was either gold or a rich creamy color, and it was a spectacular sight. There was a huge bathtub right in the middle with dozens of spigots and faucets coming off of it. Eyeing a stand-alone shower in the corner, she jumped in and out, just long enough to refresh herself. In a fluffy cotton towel, she looked around for the Muggle clothes the note had mentioned and saw a simple white sundress folded in the counter next to the sink. Putting it on, she saw it fit her like a dream and complemented her summer tan. Allowing her hair to dry into soft natural waves, Hermione headed downstairs to the library.
She passed through the splendidly decorated halls and gasped. She literally gasped at some of the artifacts on the walls. There were paintings of beautiful people, ancient tapestries, antique weapons, beautiful engravings, and other things of that ilk. She was tempted to stop and examine every one, but she didn't want to keep whoever was waiting for her in the library, so she kept walking, content to observe the walls out of the corner of eye, so as not to let her interest get the better of her.
After descending two flights of stairs, Hermione reached what was obviously the library. There were two huge oak doors, at least twenty feet tall, that it required the strength of two stone guards to open.
"Miss Granger," they said in unison. "He is awaiting your arrival within." She nodded mutely as they granted her entrance, their stony muscles bulging at the strain of opening such heavy doors.
The room was huge. It was larger than the Quidditch Pitch and the Great Hall at Hogwarts combined. She didn't know where to go from here, but she saw a glow from a lit fireplace at the opposite end of the room. It was very dim, because of the distance. She decided that it was a good place to aim for, as it showed signs of some sort of, hopefully, human inhabitance. It seemed to take ages to walk to, down the center aisle of the library, surrounded by rows upon rows of shelves of books that she was just dying to get her hands on. The aisle was wide and it was occasionally dotted with goldenrod or sage sofas and small tables, complete with parchment, quills, and ink. It was obviously an extremely efficient library, perfect for doing research or studying.
After about an hour (really it was only about forty-five seconds, which is honestly a really long time; try holding your breath that long) Hermione finally reached the fireplace. The person she was to meet was sitting on a sofa directly facing the fireplace, silhouetted by the light. She could not see who it was.
"Er—" she started. She didn't know what to say.
The mystery man jumped up and turned to face her. He was very tall, but she still couldn't see his face for the backlighting of the fire.
She squinted. "I'm sorry Mr. uh… I can't see you. The light…" she gestured vaguely towards the fireplace.
Mystery Man stepped to the side, and even though his features were apologetic, she recognized him instantly. Draco Malfoy.
Her breath hitched in her chest. "What are you doing here?" she asked, with more than just a hint of malice in her voice.
"Please, Granger, before you say or do anything you might regret in my house, take a seat, so I can explain the situation to you." He didn't sound malevolent in any way. He just had a carefully controlled note of precaution to his words.
She eyed him uneasily, her gaze snapping from him to the sofa, then back to him. She stood where she was and said nothing.
"For Merlin's sake, Granger, take a seat. There's no harm in that. There are a few things we need to talk about, and then, if you like, you'll be free to go about your merry way." He gestured at the sofas behind him.
She walked around the other side of the sofa, and perched herself at the edge of a wing chair that flanked it as ninety degree angle. She suddenly became painfully aware of how short and form fitting the dress she wore was.
As Malfoy turned to sit back onto the sofa, Hermione took the opportunity to observe him. He had gained some muscle mass since the last time she had seen him, and he had gotten a slight tan, as well as a dash of light freckles across the bridge of his narrow nose. He wore a gray sweater, probably cashmere by the looks of it, the sleeves pulled up to his forearms, and some nice form-hugging jeans. He was barefoot, and looked quite comfortable. His gray eyes sparkled as the fire danced and popped.
"What am I doing here, Malfoy?" Hermione bit out.
"First things first, welcome to Malfoy Manor. It's actually quite a rather cheery place, if you haven't noticed." He waved his arm about aristocratically. "Now, Granger, the story I'm going to tell you is rather odd, but if you don't believe me, there is a pensieve that I can use that will allow you to see that what I say is true."
"Does it have anything to do with why I'm in your home?"
"It has everything to do with it. Now don't interrupt me anymore."
She glared at him, but said nothing.
"Yesterday, I went to Knockturn Alley to sell some old artifacts of this house that I didn't want around." She opened up her mouth, but at the sight of his upraised hand she didn't say anything. "And guess who I saw there but the brainy third of the Golden Trio, being hovered unconsciously in the square, over a pit of deformed Blast-Ended Skrewts. There was a good crowd of people about, cheering and carrying on and the like. I think they were going to drop you and watched you get mauled to death. Nothing pleasant, mind you." Her eyes grew wide. "I'm going to be honest, I don't like you. But after all you've done for me in the last few months, you and the Order; I just couldn't let them do that to you. So I said something to them along the lines of I was taking you to experiment or torture you or something. I can't remember exactly. But I was able to get you in my possession and I brought you back here. And that wasn't just a mob. That was a bunch of people who were out to get you. I knew a good amount of them and I know there aren't going to stop hunting you until you're in their possession once again." He finished grimly into the fire.
He turned to face her and she had gone extremely pale. "Won't they just come and hunt me down here? I mean, they obviously know it was you that took me!"
"Well I've got good news for you." She looked at him with a mixture of curiosity and terror. "Only a Malfoy can pass within the boundaries of Malfoy Manor without my permission, since I'm the only surviving Malfoy. I've revoked all my former invitations. You're the only one who can. They are physically unable to come here."
"What am I going to do? When I go home, they'll just follow me there and kill me!" she wailed.
"You're going to stay here until school starts. If you say yes, we'll floo Dumbledore and let him know the situation. Hogwarts will be safe once school starts as long as you stay in the castle."
Her head snapped up, from looking at her knees to looking him direct in the eyes. "I can't stay here."
"Why not? Do you want to die? There's nothing Potter or Weasley can do to save you. They don't have a safe place to take you."
She sat silent for a moment or two. "You don't honestly think we'll be able to be civil to each other until school starts in three months?"
"If not, the Manor is big enough that we can go without seeing each other."
He seemed to have an answer for everything. "Do you want me to stay here?"
"Honestly? Yes. I'd rather you stayed here than get killed."
She stood up, walked to the fireplace, and stared into it. She was silent. She was silent for so long that Malfoy thought she was either asleep or ignoring him.
"Fine. I'll stay here."
"Good. You can stay in the room that you're in right now if you like it."
She ignored that and asked "Why are they after me?"
"Even though Voldemort is gone, there are still some of his followers that mistakenly believe that he will be able to come back if they kill Potter. To get to Potter they had to get you, use you as bait and—" He stopped as Hermione held up her hand, not wanting to hear any more.
"I said I'd stay, Malfoy."
Well, that was chapter one. Let me know what you think. And since I'm not a mind reader, the only way you can do that is by reviewing.