Just like Mine
He swiped the knife against the metal bar that held her just a few inches off the ground, nothing that would hurt her if she fell, but would hurt her shoulders, back and wrist while being tied up. None of her pleas got her any answer. Why was he doing this? She didn't know, not really. Of course there was some hatred between them but in reality they knew very little about each other and not nearly enough to go this far. What was he doing?
A scream tore itself from her throat, clawing its way out. While pondering his reasons she hadn't seen him move to plunge that knife in her thigh. She could feel her blood pulsing out around the knife and dripping tracks of crimson down her legs. He let out the smallest sigh at the sight. That was the only sound he'd made since bringing her down into the cellar. It looked a lot like her grandfather's wine cellar actually.
He ripped the knife out in a swift movement, seeming unmoved by her pained sob. The blade dripped with her blood and she focused her eyes to see where he would hurt her next. He held the knife close to his face for a moment then used his finger to clean one side of it. Her whole body tensed when he dragged his blood stained finger down her rib cage and abdomen. He seemed fascinated with the blood smeared on her creamy skin.
He looked up into her eyes and very clearly said, "They were wrong." His voice was hoarse and broke on every syllable. His pure white hair had lost its healthy shine. She wondered how he lost it since he had always taken care of his appearance, as far as she could remember. She also remembered being envious of such beautiful hair. Why should someone so evil and hurtful on the inside be so beautiful on the outside? It wasn't fair.
What did he mean they were wrong? Who was he talking about? What were they wrong about?
"Do you see this? It's red, thin and thicker when it dries. I was wrong too." He whispered wiping the worrying amount of blood of her leg. She shivered, knowing the blood loss and cold was getting to her. She wore only a very small pair of shorts and a sports bra, which he'd spelled on her before chaining her up.
"Answer me." He hissed coldly, bringing the knife to her throat.
"Yes, I see it." And she did. It all made since now. This was Malfoy and he finally, finally realized just how many lies he'd been told. He was talking about her blood, how it was the same as his, in color, texture and status. Maybe he'd thought it would be brown.
"Good. Granger, you really aren't ugly. I've only said so because father said, 'How can something so filthy on the inside be considered attractive on the outside.' You are beautiful though, on both sides. I guess that's why I went and looked for answers, because surely if you were made of dirty blood I wouldn't think of you the way I do." He seemed to deflate as if something huge had just occurred to him.
"I want something from you."
She waited, feeling the burn in her wrist heighten now that her thigh wasn't throbbing with pain so much. He finally noticed and had the audacity to blush. Was he ashamed or embarrassed by asking her for something when he could very well take it and she would be defenseless? Malfoy released her chains and got her when she collapsed. It hurt to move her leg, the one he had drove a knife into just minutes before.
"I'll turn myself in right away and go to Azkaban, but give me one thing." He whispered in her ear. She shivered in disgust. If he was serious what could he possibly want that he couldn't just take? Her money, her life and maybe even her ability to have children. It was all his for the taking.
"I want you to kiss me. Then I'll call the Aurors and you'll go home and I'll be punished. I'll even tell you everything I know about the death eaters and V-Voldemort."
She had been about to give him an explicit denial until he said the last part. She couldn't give that up not even if it was just a small chance he was telling the truth.
"Okay." She whispered, relaxing against him slightly. It wasn't as if she could stand on her own.
"What?" He said, seeming more surprised than anything else.
"I said yes, but you have to do everything you just said you would."
Malfoy turned her to face him, a desperate hope in his face.
"You really mean it. This is…surreal."
She felt very uncomfortable with his happiness. Why should he want to kiss her so much? In the end it didn't really matter. He lowered his mouth to her slowly, maybe waiting for her to spit in his face. She didn't though because she wanted him to keep his word.
His lips touched her; warm and softer than they had any right to be. She remained still when he held her waist gently. He pressed harder against her mouth, angering her. He said just a kiss! Not a snog!
He pinched her side sharply and she opened her mouth against his. She knew that was the reaction he'd been hoping for because he let out a throaty moan and slipped his tongue inside her mouth. At first she planned on biting down hard enough for him to lose said tongue, but then decided she could live through it and come out on top. A disgusting kiss in trade for possibly winning the war seemed fair enough.
So she kissed him back, her school enemy and now her torturer. He pulled her against him so suddenly she let out a gasp, which he, being the egoistical prick he was, took it as a sign she was enjoying herself. He opened her mouth further and devoured her, tasting every part he could reach. He moved a hand into her hair, forcing her to kiss him back just slightly.
He finally pulled away, releasing her hair, but not her waist. She was glad for that as she would have fallen.
"Call them." She demanded. He pulled out his wand and held it for a long moment.
"I know they're wrong. Your blood… it's like mine, only you knew that we were equal without stabbing anyone in the leg."
She raised an eyebrow at him, "Well if only you'd been that smart from the beginning. Call them."
He flinched and sent a Patronus to Harry and Ron. They must be worried sick.
Malfoy transfigured a desk into a sofa and sat her down, propping her leg up. He also healed her leg, which made Hermione burn with anger. He could have healed it before!
The cellar door burst open and Hermione watched as Malfoy was bound and read his rights. Harry came to rest beside her, looking for a wound. The blood was gone and only a few tears were running down her face from the earlier.
Malfoy eyes stayed on hers the whole time until the door closed behind him. Then he was gone.