Corruptive

Chapter 7 – The Sixteen Year Old Lie

Disclaimer – I don't own any of the recognisable characters in this story. I only own Maria and Chantelle so far! :P

Last Chapter - "No, they weren't," Draco said sincerely his gaze following hers.

Hermione shot him a puzzled look and, pointing to the paper said, "But then-?"

"They're not your parents."


Hermione sat there for what seemed an age, her eyes looked out at Draco yet were not focusing. She was staring off into space as though she were in some kind of dream. Or, more appropriately, some kind of nightmare. Draco's words echoed in her mind like a slow acting poison, taking its time to sink painfully into her brain…

Hermione's thoughts suddenly seemed to go into overload and after a few seconds of her inner mind torturing her, she spoke. To her relief, it seemed to slow down her mind.

"Not my parents." The words didn't sounds like they were coming out of her mouth, but someone elses. Surely they could not be true!

"What do you mean they're not my parents?" Hermione's voice was calm; too calm. Draco paused for a moment, as though to carefully choose his words. He didn't want Hermione suddenly exploding at him.

"Francis and Marie Granger and not your parents." Well, they sounded better in his head.

Hermione's breathing became harsher as the anger began to rise in her.

"How can they not be my parents?!" Hermione exclaimed. Draco sighed, trying to think of how to put the truth into words. So far he was having a tough time doing so.

"They adopted you, just before your first birthday." Hermione let out a deep breath she had subconsciously been holding.

"I was… adopted?" Hermione breathed. "But why didn't they tell me?" Tears had begun, for what seemed the millionth time today, to spring into her eyes. She blinked furiously, trying to hold them back, but was having as much luck with that as Draco was having putting together his words.

Draco began playing with the corner of his robe, trying to distract himself.

Father said I can't tell her yet.

Like that's going to make much of a difference now. She already knows half of it!!

So Draco just came out and said it.

"They didn't know." Hermione fixed a pointed look on him, a crease forming in her brow.

"What do you mean they didn't know? How could they not know?!"

It was then – in the building up of Hermione's hysteria – that Draco decided he may as well break the news to her now.

It's just like some Muggle said…It's like hitting two stones with one bird… or something like that. At least now I'll only have to put up with her crying once!!

"They were put under strong memory charms. They believed that you were their daughter."

"I am their daughter!" Hermione exclaimed, in an almost delirious manner. "And they are my parents! What the hell is wrong with you?! You're crazy!"

"Francis and Anne aren't even relatives of yours, let alone your parents," Draco said calmly, as though discussing the price of milk over tea and scones.

"You're wrong," Hermione insisted stubbornly.

"Granger, they don't even look like you," Draco said, trying to be reasonable. It was true. They shared hardly any physical similarities.

"Well then if this is true, then I guess you can't call me that anymore, can you?" Hermione said, unable to keep the bitterness from her tone.

Perplexed, Draco asked, "What?"

"Granger. If you're telling the truth, then I'm not a Granger, I'm a… God, I don't even know what I am anymore!"

"Guinevere."

Now it was Hermione's turn for confusion.

"What?"

"Your name; your last name. It's Guinevere," said Draco.

If you have ever been in a situation similar to this, you will know the strange sinking feeling that weighs down your entire stomach, making it feel kilos heavier. And the way your head spins and you have trouble keeping your eyes open. Every inch of movement, no matter how big or small seems to jump out at you, your nerves on end. You shake, you tremble, and that weight in your stomach turns into nausea.

This was precisely how Hermione felt at the time. This terrible sickness weighing her down. That sickness being the truth. The truth that had been kept hidden from her since her first birthday, practically her whole life. The tears fell silently. This shock came to her in a very different way than when she learnt of her parents deaths and even later learning that her parents weren't really her parents. This shock was the feeling of betrayal. Of being lied to. A lie that had continued for over sixteen years. A lie, that if it did not exist, could have changed Hermione completely, could have had her leading a completely different life.

"Here," Draco said, fumbling for something in his robe. "This should prove it to you." Finally he seemed to find what he had been searching for and pulled it out of his robe pocket. It was a small cream-coloured and blank envelope. Draco handed it to Hermione. She took it, but with an unsure look on her face. Ever since the bubotuber pus Rita Skeeter had sent her in her fourth year, Hermione had become rather hesitant when it came to opening envelopes.

But after breaking the wax seal and carefully opening it, Hermione did not find plant pus, but two photographs. She picked up the first one and examined it. It was a portrait of a happy looking woman with wavy brown hair, and all too familiar chocolate brown eyes. Those eyes had an intelligent twinkle in them… and suddenly they blinked.

Hermione almost jumped out of her skin. She had almost forgotten that wizard photos could move. Though she could not see it, a Draco quickly covered his mouth with his hand to muffle his laughter. The woman smiled warmly and waved cheerfully at her.

"That's your mother, Lucretia Guinevere," Draco told her, and Hermione was too caught up in the photograph that she neither looked up at him nor replied. Hermione placed the photo face-up on the bed before looking at the next one. The second photo was a portrait of a man who she assumed was-

"Your father," Draco said. "Raziel." This man had a slim, just-so shaped face and too had brown hair, that seemed far from balding. There was a cunning smirk on his face that reminded him all too much of Malfoy and a stern glint in his eyes. They, too, were brown, but not as rich as Hermione's or her mother's.

It felt strange for Hermione to be thinking of this woman as her mother when they had never met or even spoke. It was an odd sensation to look at the photograph and realise that the woman in it should have played a larger role in her life, than the meager eleven or so months that Hermione couldn't even recall.

She placed the second and final photograph on top of the first, placed it back inside the envelope and, almost as though she was already regretting it, passed it back to Draco. But Draco shook his head and pushed her hand back.

"No, you keep it," Draco said. "I have no need for them." Hermione smiled, a genuine smile – the first she had the whole time she had been here – and was, also for the first time, thankful towards Draco. She could hardly say she was happy right now, and given her circumstances, to be so would be quite absurd. But she definitely felt a little better now that she was no longer kept in the dark, shadowed by a sixteen year-old secret.

Hermione again stared off into space, so many things on her mind she felt that if she wrote it out, she would easily be able to fill four notebooks, in the tiniest, smallest writing she would usually use when writing out an essay. She barely noticed when Draco rose from the bed and silently left the room to give her time and space to think. She was very appreciative towards him, though she knew she shouldn't.

Sure, he had told her about her parents, then about them not being her parents, and then after that gave her photographs of her real parents. But he had kidnapped her, and Hermione could not forget that. Even if his father had forced him to do so, she would always blame him. Oh, and he attempted to poison her. God, she was never going to forget that one! But for the moment, Hermione could forget. Not forever, but temporarily. Too many thoughts were already clouding her mind.

So, in exaustion, Hermione sighed and collapsed back on the bed. Her thoughts kept her up for many hours, and as each minute passed, the more exausted she became. But finally, she drifted off to sleep. I would like to say that her sleep was peaceful – she was definitely one to deserve that after all she had been through over the past seventy-two hours – but her thoughts mingled with her subconscious mind, sending her dream after horrible dream. But the nightmares would be the least of her worries when she looked back on this moment in a few days time.


A/N – Very sorry to cut you short there – and it was hardly a cliff hanger either!! But I wanted to get this chapter out quickly. Not only because I was warned that an evil bunny of doom would eat me should I not update quicker, but also because I needed to clarify something with my readers and reviewers. Firstly, as usual, I would like to thank my reviewers for all of your wonderful reviews!! I don't think I could ever get sick of them!! (Is it just me, or am I sounded incredibly over-happy at the moment??) Well, I was asked two questions and I thought I should answer them.

The first one was:

What are the seven simple words?

Okies, well the Seven Simple Words (just incase you missed them!!) are:

"Death Eater's Show No Mercy To Grangers"

Which, if any of you remember, was the headline in the Daily Prophet. Okay, onto the next question, which isn't anywhere near as pleasant as the last, but I shall answer anyway 'cause I'm 'oh so nice'!

fuck, you're not gonna pull one of those "Hermione's parents are death eaters and they want her to become one too" plot lines are you?

Yes, yes!!! You've found me out!! That is the whole and entire meaning of my story!!! It's going to be so totally, like cliché that you could read "The Most Over-Used Plot For Draco/Hermione Stories" and you would find out each one of my 'oh so secret' plot lines.

Okay, I was just kidding. No, not at all. In fact, the thought never crossed my mind… good twist though… HAHA! Lol, nah, again, just kidding. I can promise you now that Hermione is not going to become a Death Eater in this story…

Though I could always write a sequel…. Hehe, evil! Better go now, before my authors note is longer than my story.

Marauders Gal