Hullo! Chapter 2 up! I've been having this issue where I have this idea in my head and JUST CAN'T GET IT OUT UNTIL I WRITE IT DOWN!
so here we are~ I'll try to fit in chappies ASAP-or i might just pull all nighters xD
Mrs. Rowling owns all HP characters and plotline. if i owned them, i'd be hella famous.
Hermione cannot feel her legs. Or her arms, for that matter. Hell, she can't feel her whole damn body. All she remembers is getting up from the ground,
then everything is fuzzy. She knows she's moving. It's a solid, real, fact—something she holds on to. Her life has always been full of lies and deceit.
Growing up with Harry Potter and the Weasley family has taught her more about betrayal than needs to be said. The only feeling that she can distinctly
categorize is raw fury, burning and coursing through her bones and limbs. Underneath that lies a sort of relief, like the calm after a storm. She is finally
getting long deserved revenge on the man that had tortured her since childhood, ripped apart her family. The bastard was trembling in front of her
pathetically, and she could feel the sheer amount of power she held within the simple magic stick she held in her hands. But suddenly, she became
confused. Why did her step-father have blond hair, not black? And why were his eyes this sharp blue, not those misleading hazel ones she had grown to
fear? He looked a bit like a different person...someone she knew from somewhere...a place where she learned to cast these powerful spells-
Hogwarts.
Her home.
The place she had made friends,
aced the tests as star student Hermione,
and was constantly tormented by a pure-blood named Draco Malfoy-
Hermione's vision suddenly cleared. The person in front of her-no, it wasn't her cursed step-father. He was already dead. He would never know of
her ever again. This person-he had a chance of redemption. He had been a stellar student, just as she, even though not as kind. She vaguely felt her
mouth moving in an attempt to form a curse.
"Crucio!" She shrieked. Once the curse was spoken, Malfoy's eyes widened, his limbs slacked, and his mouth opened in an ear-piercing scream.
Tiny cuts appeared repeatedly on his pale white skin, making it flush with the red hue of blood. Hermione started to smile maliciously, but she forced
herself to regain control. Her arm seemed to be moving on its own, slashing with her wand, making more cuts in his skin. Using her other arm, she
clutched her wand and forced it down, releasing the spell. Malfoy immediately fell upon the hard marble ground, twitching ever so slightly. His chest
hitched, and was still. It no longer rose up and down laboriously to take in painstaking breaths. Draco Malfoy lay still.
He couldn't move. Every second that passed by felt like another hour stuck in a burning house-his every attempt at a breath resulted in fire
erupting in his chest, and spreading to every limb that he could still feel. The Cruciatus Curse had not hurt this much the last time it had been cast on
him. This time, it felt as if a thousand needles pricked every nerve in his body, rendering him defenseless and unable to move. Then the needles had
turned into sharp daggers, piercing straight through his bone and embedding itself deep within his flesh. He lay there, barely conscious, and unwilling
to take another breath, for fear he would kill himself. Black-no, white-he couldn't tell the difference- stars twinkled in his vision. Granger was doubling
and tripling, her form shuddering every time he blinked. Or maybe that was just her body shaking. And-were those tears? He could not distinguish
between light and dark, so how could he feel any form of wetness? Perhaps he was just hallucinating. His vision flashed white-black one more time,
then his resolve vanished.
"Professor Mcgonagall! Professor Mcgonagall! PROFESSOR MCGONAGALL! ANYBODY! PLEASE!" Hermione screamed at the top of her lungs into the
barren corridors. Immediately, Professor Flitwick, who had currently been teaching, rushed out to see what the matter was, hat and glasses slightly
askew. What he saw shocked the charms out of his wand. Hermione Granger, ace student, was holding Draco Malfoy in her arms, covered in blood. He
squeaked in horror, and frantically sent a message to Minerva. It took too long for the Headmistress to arrive at the scene, even though she had run as
quickly as her old legs could carry her. Once she saw Hermione's trembling form and Draco's stilled body, she hurried them to Madame Pomphrey's.
Hermione was in a state of shock, hearing but not processing the words spoken outside of her body. All she could think about was that she hurt Draco
Malfoy. Oh, she was in sooo much trouble. But never had she ever done this kind of deed before. The last time she had lost control was...when Ron had
reappeared in front of their tent to apologize. She shuddered at the thought. Hermione had never been one to hurt anyone. She had only ever hurt
Draco once, and that was because he insulted her friend, Hagrid. Never had she ever thought she was capable of such an emotionally demanding
Unforgivable Curse. Sure, she could pull off Avada Kedavra no problem, for it required no emotion whatsoever. She could use the spell in cold blood,
it was just a simple matter to whisper Imperio! and force someone out of her way. But the Cruciatus Curse required immense hatred, or immense
passion. Just as Bellatrix had tortured her in the gloomy chambers of the Malfoy Manor, she had done to Malfoy in the very halls of her sacred school,
Hogwarts. It was ironic, really. It seemed to be payback for a year's worth of anguish and fear-all for the sake of Dumbledore. At more than one point
she had thought of abandoning that god forsaken quest and take the easy way out. But for the sake of Harry, and Ron, and all of the D.A she had left
at Hogwarts, she gritted her teeth and stuck with the seemingly pointless search for Horcruxes.
For years she had trained her magic to perfection, honing it for good and remembering even the most useless spells. But the price for leading a life of
good magicry, she had left behind the hidden power Hermione had unlocked as a child when she murdered her step-father without batting an eyelash.
The magic she learned at Hogwarts was nothing in the face of her true talent.
Her Dark Magic.
Never until now had some released itself from the confines of her will, possessing her with the urges to hurt, to bully, to kill. And now she had gotten
Malfoy on the brink of death. She barely heard Professor McGonagall asking her pointless questions (What is your name? Are you in shock? How are
you feeling? Do you need some chocolate?). She simply shrugged, only remembering to breathe in order to splutter out her name. "Her-my-oh-nee,"
She had said slowly, enunciating every syllable. What a strange name, she thought. Her-my-oh-nee. Sounded like something from the fantasy world.
Her limbs refused to move afterwards, so Madame Pomphrey let her lie down and skip the rest of her classes. Ma-dam Pom-free. She giggled
hysterically at her own little name jokes. Drey-ko Mal-foi. Hehe.
"Whatcha laughin' at, Mudblood?" A sinister croak (though not so sinister, she couldn't see how sinister a frog-like sound could be, so she laughed even
harder). Dreyko Malfoi was watching her from across the room with piercing blue eyes. She immediately sobered up, a terrible feeling of dread sinking
into her gut. His finger waved at her, as if daring her to come closer. So she did.
"Wanna know something, girlie?" He attempted to smirk, but the pain made it seem like a crooked grimace. He breathed laboriously, and she scooted a
little closer. His ragged breathing tickled her ears, resulting in another hysterical fit of giggles. Hermione's crazed hazel eyes met his pained blue ones,
and suddenly, Draco smiled. Not a real haha smile, but one of malicious triumph.
"It's strange, ya know...I feel kinda...threatened..."
His lips spread wider.
"And you say I'm the evil one, Hermione."