Hello Lovely Readers!
Sorry this chapter took so long, but at least it was up sooner than my last one! I hope you don't hate me for what I'm about to do to our lovely Hermione. Anywho, please review my wonderful lovely readers, and I'll try and get a few replies in while I'm her.
Disclaimer:Sadly, this wonderful world and most of the people in it with a few exceptions are not mine, though I would take really good care of it if it were :). I bow my head to Miss Rowling and her wonderful, magical mind.
Chapter seven: Dangerous games
"It's a Boy! We've named him Ted after Dora's father!"
Hermione shrieked.
"Wha- Tonks- Tonks has had the baby?"
"Yes, yes, she's had the baby!" Shouted Lupin. All around the table came cries of delight, sighs of relief: Hermione and Fleur both squealed "Congratulations!" and Ron said "Blimey, a baby!" as if he had never heard of such a thing before.
It was easily the happiest piece of news Hermione had heard ever since this war started and she couldn't wait to see the little one.
It wasn't until a few drinks later that Remus approached her. She had been clearing away the empty glasses when Remus entered the kitchen behind her.
"Tonks and I are both in agreement," he told her as he started to dry the goblets by hand rather than magic, "That Harry is going to be the godfather."
Hermione beamed at him.
"He'll be so pleased," she told him, "And really honoured that you thought of him."
Remus smiled.
"But we were having a little trouble deciding on a god mother," he told her, "I know Fleur would be happy, as would Molly, but she has enough kids as it is, and I can imagine that my son would probably love Fleur a little too much, with her being a veela and all."
Hermione stopped her muggle washing and turned to him with a quizzical look.
He beamed down at her and gave her a big hug.
"I want it to be you," he told her softly.
And she had accepted with a loud squeal and a promise that she would do a brilliant job. But she hadn't. Hermione had forgotten all about little Teddy Lupin the day she lost everything else and as she gazed upon him now, a sense of guilt erupted within her veins.
He looked at her, slightly scared that she had uttered his name when he hadn't even introduced himself. He looked from Malfoy to Hermione at a rapid speed and as a result, his hair changed from dark chocolate brown, to midnight black with white blond streaks.
Remus had been right though, he looked a lot like Tonks.
"I'm not Teddy," he lied feebly, "I'm Thomas."
All she could do was stare, and he did exactly the same. He had no idea who she was, for that she was certain; He had only been a few months old when the final battle took place, there was no way that he would have remembered her.
Draco gave a soft cough and cleared his throat, subconsciously reminding her that she was still staring at Teddy.
"I," she began but stopped herself from apologizing when she remembered what Malfoy had said as she took a look at a portrait that was glaring at her specifically.
"Watch where you are going brat," she glared harshly, hurting all the while, "Or I will send you to the dungeons faster than you can say Quidditch."
Teddy quivered for a little bit, offered his apologies, which Hermione sneered at, and then ran as fast as he could in the opposite direction.
Hermione felt the urge to run after him, apologize and give him a huge hug. As if he had heard her thoughts, Draco tightened his grip on her arm and lead her to the Transfiguration teacher's quarters.
They were concealed behind a painting of Merlin the Great, who greeted them fondly and allowed them access when Draco gave him the password, "Sherbet Lemon."
She asked him whether he chose the password or not to which he gave her a firm glare.
"He picks the passwords not me," he told her firmly, "Probably something of Dumbledore's invention."
Hermione wouldn't have been surprised if it was.
Inside, was nothing like Hermione had ever pictured Draco living in. Everything, from the kitchen table cloth, to the stained glass windows, was covered in either red or gold. Apparently, the Transfiguration teacher had always been head of Gryffindor as well.
She shot Draco an incredelous look to which he shrugged.
"I just never had the time to redecorate," he chuckled lightly, telling her that he secretly liked the bold and glamorous colours, "Take a seat," he indicated the couch, but Hermione had other ideas.
She had remembered what Severus had said about head subjects and their paintings.
"Where's your study?" She asked him quietly.
"First door on the left," he answered with a confused look, "I thought you were here to see me, not my furniture?"
"I'm here because you didn't give me another option," she answered nonchalantly as she moved towards the door, "And because this is far better than trying to keep my host out of my pants."
"Who says this one won't try to get in your pants?" He asked her in jest, to which she almost smiled.
"I could kill this one a lot quicker and without as much mess," she replied, smirking as she turned the door knob to the study "So it doesn't really matter if he is or isn't."
It was just as she had predicted. Rows upon rows of portraits of former Transfiguration teachers and heads of Gryffindor house, the most prominent of which was the sleeping eyes of Professor Dumbledore. She looked at the far corner of the little office, noticing that there was and empty picture frame.
"You know who that's reserved for don't you," Draco told her quietly, coming up behind her and giving her a glass of mead.
She knew exactly who it was reserved for, but the idea of mentioning McGonagall's illness out loud just made it seem all the more real, therefore, she didn't say a word. Hermione simply left the office and made her way to the chair that Malfoy had indicated earlier.
"I couldn't believe it when they told me to take her place," Draco continued, "I never thought that the old bat would go down, not even to dragon pox."
"Do you really believe that nonsense?" She asked him with slight venom in her tone as she took a sip of her wine. She instantly found that she liked firewhiskey better.
"Of course not," he smirked at her, "The dragon pox would have been delt with by now if it was only that. There has to be something more sinister going on than what we've been told."
She simply continued to nurse her mead.
"So you've been speaking to Severus I take it?" He asked and she almost spilt her wine.
He chuckled at her.
"It's the only way you could have known about my study chambers," he laughed as she cleaned the residue from her chin.
"Is he that talkative?" She asked him with slight disdain.
"Only to those he likes," he smirked then looked down into his own glass, "I used to go down there before you arrived and ask him for advice, just like back in school. He hated it when I snuck into his office, even when he was headmaster, but he never punished me. It was odd."
"You were his favorite student," she scoffed, rolling her eyes, "Of course he wouldn't punish you."
"You do remember this is Severus Snape we are talking about right?" He asked her incredulously, still smiling at her, "He punished me for lesser things in the past, and badly at that. I'll never forget the day he made me wash all the chamber pots in the hospital wing because I called Parkinson a potty mouth and gave her a lightning bolt scar and unmovable glasses. Sneaking into a professor's office, let alone the Headmaster's is punishable by expulsion. They added torture to the list when the Carrows arrived. He could have handed me over at any moment, but he never did."
Hermione just stared at him. She never thought that Snape punished anyone from his own house, let alone let them sneak into his office seeking refuge or advice. The idea was completely ludicrous at best. As if sensing her doubt, Draco leaned across the table and placed his hand ontop of her own.
"He wasn't the greasy dungeon bat that all you Gryffindorks believed him to be," he told her softly, "He was a teacher first and foremost, one of the best."
And didn't she know it. She had seen the memories that Snape had given to Harry, so she knew it better than what Draco did. It had taken her a while to find a wizarding house with a pensieve, but once she had, she jumped at the chance to find out why Harry had sacrificed himself for the greater good. She hadn't intended to learn Snape's entire history in the process.
Suddenly noticing where his hand was placed though, Hermione changed the topic.
"Who are you calling a Gryffindork?" She asked with a smile and Draco smiled back, knowing exactly what she was doing. He withdrew his hand and leaned back taking another sip of his wine.
"Just the biggest know it all to ever grace the halls of Hogwarts," he laughed.
She mock scowled at him, noticing for the first time that they were actually comfortable around one another. It was a big step from when she first arrived and an even bigger step from the incident by the lake.
"So how do you know Teddy Lupin?" Draco asked as he refilled her glass without even asking her if she wanted another one.
She just stared at him dumbly until he rolled his eyes.
"He's my second cousin Hermione," he scoffed at her, "Did you really expect me not to recognise him."
"He's your second cousin to a dead werewolf and a blood traitor," she spat unintentionally.
"All the same," he ignored her tone, knowing that it was by accident, "How did you recognise him?"
She paused for a moment.
"He has his father's eyes," she told him quietly, "I'd recognise those eyes anywhere."
Draco peered at her over the top of his own glass, swirling its contents.
"He knows my real loyalties," Draco informed her, "I'm in contact with his grandmother, Andromeda. I give her information from the castle and she feeds it to what's left of the Order of the Phoenix."
She stared at him in shock and then in fright.
"You didn't tell them-"
"Of course not," he waved her off, "I'm not stupid. If you wanted the Order to know about your existence you would have informed them by now, so I haven't told Andromeda a thing."
Again, all she could do was stare.
"The Order knows about my true loyalties as well," he told her, "It's not as if Andromeda could pass on information without giving up a source. If you don't believe me, we can call back Teddy and he can confirm it..."
It was then that she understood why he had suddenly revealed this to her. It was a sales pitch. He was trying to get her to divulge her plans to him so that he could help. She was not stupid, she knew Slytherin manipulation when she saw it.
"Mafoy-"
"Draco," he cut her off.
"Malfoy," she said to emphasise her point, "It's not that I don't trust you. If I didn't trust you, I wouldn't be here would I? It's just that I couldn't allow myself to put you in anymore danger than what you are, and further more, if I let you in on my plans it gives the Dark Lord another person to question if I ever get discovered. If I die by his hand, I plan on passing my knowledge down to the next available person who is capable of taking him down and I can't do that if he discovers what I'm up to and destroys all my resources."
"I don't have to know it all," he told her, finally coming clean of his agenda, "Just enough to let me help you, nothing more. I'm already in as much danger as I could be Hermione. He's issued an order saying that anyone who aids the Order of the Phoenix in any way will be killed, and if he finds a Death Eater is helping them, he'll torture them in more ways than you can imagine. I got myself into this and I'm prepared to see it to the end."
He made sense, she had to admit that, but it was all just too much. She couldn't just let him waltz into this, he had no idea of what he was up against. It was then that she decided that this little chat had gone on long enough, so she stood from her seat.
"Thank you very much for the rescue Malfoy," she told him, smoothing out her robes, "But I have things to be getting on with."
She moved towards the door and felt Draco come up behind her, ready to make his argument, when the door to his chambers flew open and out came three very frightened seventh year boys, and Voldemort himself.
"Good evening Miss Grant, Malfoy," he smiled, "I hope I am not interrupting anything?"
"Not at all My Lord," she smiled graciously, her walls up within an instant, "I was just about to leave Mr Malfoy with the organisational instructions I gave him regarding all the text books in his store rooms. I must say that this entire school is so completely unorganised."
The Dark Lord smirked as Draco nodded in agreement.
"I thought," Voldemort told them both, throwing the three boys inside, "That now would be the time to elicit your punishment upon these fools. I am very much looking forward to hearing them scream."
Hermione would have paled and fainted if she had not been in such control of her body. Instead, she simply smiled at him and sneered down at the boys.
"Are these the three that were leering at you Miss Grant? The ones you told me about just a moment ago?" Draco asked her, his face malicious at the idea.
In truth, she had no idea how he had known, unless of course he had been watching the hall just as much as the other two in the room during dinner.
"They are Mr Malfoy," Hermione smirked, "I'm surprised that they have the gall to even think of me in such a way."
"Perhaps you would like to watch too Malfoy?" Voldemort asked him.
"Why not?" Malfoy bounced back with a shrug, "It's been a while since I witnessed torture, so this should be fun."
One of the boys looked up at her through frightened eyes. It was the one who had been making kissy faces, the one who had initiated the entire thing. She wanted so desperately to get him out of there unharmed and tell You-Know-Who to shove his job you-know-where, but her duty to save the wizarding world was greater than her need to save these three boys.
It was time to show Malfoy and the Dark Lord, just how much she had changed in the last ten years. It was time to show them what ten years of silence, of finding boyfriends in rivers, of seeing friends and leaving them, of severing werewolf-pervert heads from their bodies, did to someones darker nature.
"You," she told the one cowering before her, "Will suffer last, and will receive the greatest pain."
To her utter disgrace at herself, some tears escaped his eyes, but she kept her disgust with herself hidden from the other two men in the room.
She removed a vial from the inside of her robes. It was black with silver flecks running through it, sounds emerging from the tip of the cork that almost resembled screams.
"This will be your fate," she told him and placed it on the counter just beside her, allowing him to drink in the sight of it with frightened blood shot eyes.
She then turned to the other two and glared at them, just as an idea came to mind. It flashed before her eyes and left just as quickly as it came. There was still a chance for two of them, all she had to do...
"On second thought," she addressed Voldemort, "I think I'll use these two to send a message back to the rest of the student body. What say you my Lord? Should the death of their friend be enough punishment for the two of them?"
Voldemort smiled and evil smile and allowed her to continue as she turned back to the other two boys.
"What about you?" She asked them with an evil smile of her own, "Would you like to watch your friend dye so that you may live without any pain?"
The lone boy begged the other two with his eyes to spare him his life, but they did not comply. Hermione distantly thought that those three would have been Slytherins if there was still a sorting.
The boy suddenly began to sob as Hermione smiled at him and picked him up off of the floor, concealing her face from the Dark Lord. She gave him a small apologetic look, one of which he definitely did not understand, and then she smiled her malicious smile once more as she dragged him to the middle of the floor, taking the vial with her.
Voldemort watched with a hungry expression on his pale face. He was almost shaking in anticipation of what he was about to witness; Torture by the best. Draco watched her in secret fear, wondering how in the hell she endured this without breaking into tears. He would have been cowering before his master's feet by now if he was her. It wasn't that he had never tortured anyone before, he had done so many times and had learned to block everything out, but he knew that she was still new at the lies and concealment game.
And it was a very dangerous game to be playing.
She made the boy stand to his quaking feet, making sure that he was completely visible to the other four in the room, making sure that he was in the right position. She then held the bottle to his eyes.
"Do you know what this is?" She asked him and he shook his head no, not trusting his voice to answer her as he sobbed his little heart out.
She chuckled slightly and walked around him, putting her hand on his shoulder and standing behind him, her lips right by his ear.
"I didn't think so," she whispered seductively, "Why don't you drink it and find out?"
He sobbed even more as she placed the vial in his open hand, but he never brought it to his lips.
"Drink it," she urged him softly, but all he did was cry.
She glared at him through blue eyes and then with drew her wand.
"Drink it," she said softly, pointing her wand at him. But then she did something that the others did not expect. She aimed her wand at his friends.
"Drink the entire vial," she told him quietly, "And I'll let your friends live."
His friends pleaded with him, perhaps a little stronger than what he originally had, to spare their lives, to drink the vial and die a very painful death, so that they may live on.
The boy suddenly ceased his crying and held his head high, having made a decision. She knew that this would have worked, she could sense that he was a Gryffindor through and through by the daring he had shown at dinner.
He turned to the Dark Lord, staring him straight in the face.
"When your time comes," he whispered to him, before wiping the remaining tears from his eyes and downing the entire contents of the vial in one go, "I hope you suffer a fate worse than I."
The effect took a little bit. For a moment, he thought that the potion had been a dud and that he was going to live, that was, until he began to cough. His breathing hitched with every splutter, as his lungs contracted and blood spilled from his mouth all over the carpet.
She could see though, that the Dark Lord was not satisfied. He seemed to be losing interest, and she could not afford that if she was going to get close enough to kill him. As much as it pained her to do it, she knew that she had to make the boy scream if she was going to get through this unscathed.
It was then that Hermione withdrew a second potion from her robes. This one was a deep Slytherin green, with silver smoke protruding from the gap where the cork and the glass of the vial met. She threw this one down before his feet, the green liquid dissolving instantly and producing even more smoke. The smoke turned to steam and suddenly took the form of a skull in the air, before finally drifting from the air to his nose as even more blood left his body.
It was then, that he began to scream. Hermione didn't know how he did it with all the blood that was seeping from his mouth, but he somehow managed to make full bodied screams every time he parted his lips.
Hermione stood there with a malicious smile on her face, though on the inside she was screaming with him. Every fibre of her being cried out with him, writhed in pain with him, wished with all her might that he would just stop screaming and die already.
But she didn't get her wish until about half an hour later, when his screams died away and his limp and lifeless body fell to the floor, eyes wide open, skin ice cold. She then glared at the other two boys with what little strength she had left.
"Let us give you a little pre-potions lesson shall we?" She sneered at their gaunt and white faces, "The first one he took to save your pathetic lives was a blood manipulator. This particular type forces all the blood within the human body into the stomach by busting through the walls of the intestinal track, causing copious amounts of pain as the victim slowly dies of blood loss and internal bleeding. Now I was going to leave him with just that, but then I remembered what he had so lovingly said to our Lord and that he had sacrificed himself for a couple of idiots who would never have done the same."
The other two boys paled even further at this, remembering his screams for them to save him as they sat there on the floor dumbly and waited for it all to end just like she had willed it so.
"The second vial," she told them in a dangerous whisper, "Was a potion of my own invention. It tortures your mind with your worst experiences until it finds one that you particularly hate and then makes you relive it over and over again. It is the Memory Torture Brew, and I only ever give it to those I have absolutely no respect for. I gave it to him because he made the mistake of insulting our lord, and also because he spared you from a fate worse than death and had it not been for the fact that I need two little messengers, I would have given it to you."
The boys began to tremble at the venom in her words as tears made their way to their eyes.
"I will see you in class tomorrow," she said politely, ushering them out of the room and finally gazing upon the only others left.
Voldemort was still smiling maliciously.
"That was better than what I expected Hera," he said to her, his pleasure evident in the tone of his voice as he used her fake first name for the first time, "You certainly do have a way with your brews and elixirs."
"I live to serve my Lord," she bowed to him.
"Good," he whispered as she rose, "But I must leave you now. Avery is expecting me in little over five minutes to go over the troubles in France."
The other two nodded.
"There will also be a meeting tomorrow Malfoy," he said harshly to the blond, "I will not excuse your absence any longer."
"Yes my Lord," he bowed as Voldemort swept from the room after the boys.
It left the two of them alone once more. Draco stared at Hermione, a sorrowful ashen faced replica of what he used to be, her performance having been just as powerful as his own. Hermione looked anywhere but him, finally allowing herself to tremble when she realised that the Dark Lord had left.
She shook violently from shock as Draco moved forward, her eyes opened wide, tears leaking from her blue irises. She choked on the air she breathed as she gazed upon the boy's body before her. Her knees buckled and she would have fallen to the floor, if not for Draco's strong arms embracing her and holding her to his chest.
She didn't scream, she didn't sob, the only noise that ever passed her lips was her harsh breathing and her tears falling with small thuds. She clutched to Draco's arms for dear life, silently asking him to absorb her so she didn't have to feel this pain any longer, but he would not comply. He just held her there as she fell to pieces for the first time in ten years.
"It's up to you now..."
"You can't do this on your own."
"Hit him a good few times for me 'Mione..."
"You can do it...I know you can..."
"It's got to be me..."
She heard all their voices inside her head, every whisper, every hollow address and finally her silence broke. It started off as small choked sobs, then it soon became full blown wails of grief. She let her despair pool out of her, scream by scream, cry by cry, as Draco just held her in place and listened to her misery.
He offered no words of comfort because they would be compeltely useless to her now. All he could do was stand there and prevent her from drowning in her victim's blood that lay before her feet.
After a while, she finally subsided. She neither moved nor spoke and it wasn't until Draco looked down at her for the first time, that he realised that she had worn herself out and was now asleep in his arms.
He let out a shuddering breath before he cleaned up the mess she had made with the boy, disposed of the body, and carried her into his bed chambers. He took the time to remove her high heeled shoes and clean up the blood that was all over her skin, then he carefully tucked her under the covers and left her there, taking his place on the couch with a heavy heart.
He realised then that torturing that boy into insanity and then disposing of him in such a manor had hurt her more than she expected it to, more than she would ever admit. She had changed over the many years that he had been absent from her life. She had grown darker, more twisted, but her heart would always be with Potter and Weasley. Her heart would always be in the light of life, never the darkness of death.
With having realised it all, he turned over onto his side and extinguished the lights, leaving him for a fitful night's sleep of screams and of Hermione.
