Short Recap:
"I was just commenting on your lack of wit and astounding ability to act the barbarian," Hermione replied.
He put his fork down quickly and turned to look at her so sharply that the motion made her drop her own fork. "What?" she asked.
Draco merely looked at her face and her eyes. "I have this strange feeling, Granger," he started. "In the pit of my stomach."
"If you're going to puke, please face the other way," said Hermione, looking back down at her food and reclaiming her fork.
"No," said Draco, lifting his hand to her chin, tenderly turning her back to face him. "I have this sudden urge to kiss you and it's overwhelming."
She smiled curiously, almost mockingly. That smile did it. He lowered his head and kissed her firmly on the lips. The kiss was everything but romantic, Hermione being so stoic and stunned. He removed his lips. "It's okay to kiss back," he whispered. "Unless you don't know how."
Hermione pushed Draco away. "Don't you dare ever do that again!" she exclaimed, pulling her hands and face backward.
He recoiled. No one had ever rejected a kiss from him. It actually hurt.
Though he could probably never fully explain what had changed in him. What he did know, however, was that the empty space Pansy had left in his heart was now full of love again.
His other side took over however. "As if I would actually enjoy kissing you," he retorted. "My brain is just a traumatized from the spell."
"By the way," he added. "You're a terrible kisser.
Buried Myself Alive
Chapter Nine
For a whole week the Weasley house was in a state of tension. Hermione was still too weak to continue traveling and Mrs. Weasley would not let either leave until she was fit. The newlyweds did not speak to each other unless absolutely necessary. In fact, Draco barely left the room they prepared for him to stay in. Hermione spent most of the days lying in Ginny's room talking with her. Once every few hours Ron or Harry would ask her to talk with them.
At meals, Draco sat at the far end of the table, away from everyone. This was accepted, because he wouldn't talk, and no one really had anything to say to him. Rather, he would finish his plate, clean it at the sink by hand, and return to his temporary room. No one knew that he was thinking of what move they could make next, where they could go to be safe. He was also practicing protection charms. Draco had realized the caution and security they needed until Hermione had regained full strength, which would not happen for long after they left, he knew.
Of course he had forgotten to mention this to Mrs. Weasley, who would make them remain there. It wouldn't be long before the Death Eaters were able to sweep in.
They needed a plan, and they needed it as soon as possible. This was life or death for the both of them. He needed to get her out of this, seeing as he had gotten her into this mess.
If only he had not tried to impress his pig father and the cruel Dark Lord. If his mother had let them runaway when they had the chance, had given in to Dumbledore's request of shelter and safety.
He had become a mess of emotion since the two spells. Something had shaken his mind and awoke a part that he didn't recall ever existing.
There was a knock at his door. This was the first time all week someone was trying to communicate with him.
"Don't worry, I'm not wanking off," he responded, sitting up on the uncomfortable bed. "You can come in."
The door opened and Hermione popped her head in. It was very late at night, from what he could gather by glancing out the window.
"Can I talk to you?" she asked.
He shrugged and shifted his spot on the bed so she could sit down beside him. She stepped in and closed the door behind her quietly. After sitting on the bed next to him she only stared into his eyes. They sat in silence for a moment before she leaned up and kissed him on the lips briskly.
"I've been thinking," she started, acting as if she had done nothing after sitting down. "When I woke up from those terrible dreams, and saw you looking at me, I felt completely fine. I knew in that instant that I was okay."
"Aw, Granger, I think I'm going to tear up," he responded with a smirk.
She shook her head. "Ginny told me that I wake her up every night with my nightmares," she continued. "They shake her room. Ginny said she could feel the sadness in her bones."
Draco didn't know what to say. It only furthered his belief that she was a powerful witch. More powerful than anyone could have foretold.
"I don't know what it means," Hermione added. "But they only stop when you enter my dreams."
"You should lie down," was all he could offer. Draco shifted the pillows and pulled the comforter down.
She looked at him curiously.
He grabbed her arms and pulled her down on the bed, laying down next to her, slightly leaning over her. Without words he pulled the blanket up.
"I'm going to be honest with you," he said finally. "The past week I've been having nightmares too, which only end when you arrive."
Draco looked down into her tainted eyes. He never had liked brown eyes, but missed the way hers used to look. In his dreams her eyes were unchanged.
"I've grown a fondness to you, Malfoy," said Hermione. "It's unexplainable, but I care about you. I see something more when I look at you then I did before."
He frowned at this and sat up abruptly. "What the bloody hell has happened to us?" he remarked. "I remember loathing you."
Hermione sat up and moved closer to him. "I remember that too," she said. "You were a loathsome little cockroach. But now, all I want to do is lay down with you and know that, even if only for just this moment, everything is fine."
"Can we go back to hating each other in the morning?" he asked, quite innocently. Hermione couldn't hide her smile.
"Of course."
Draco looked down at her and kissed her forehead before falling back onto his pillow. The brunette followed suit and rested her head on his chest, one arm wrapped around her. He caressed her back, lightly running his fingers up and down her spine. He felt her relax and almost melt into him.
The newlyweds fell into sleep, almost forgetting that, in the morning, they would go back to hating one another.
---
It was a little over a month after Hermione and Draco's one night of spontaneity. They hadn't dared to even hug since then, even though they had long left the Burrow. This was, of course, met with protests from everyone. Mainly suggesting Draco was just going to lead Hermione to her death.
At the moment, they sat in a tent outside of a village in Ireland. The air was actually quite warmer than usual. Draco had somehow made it a habit to watch Hermione sleep peacefully. It was rare for her to not shake or dream badly. Although, it might have something to do with him rubbing his hand up and down her back. The bushy brunette had started to seem frightened. Draco really did not want to sit through another night of her whimpering and crying. It caused a strange feeling in his chest.
Ron had been enraged to find out Hermione spent the night in Draco's room. Draco smiled at this. Oh the things that must have went through his mind! Not only had Draco married the girl Ron Weasley loved, he had also made Ron think he had actually slept with her.
Hermione stirred slightly and rubbed her eyes. "What time is it?" she asked through a sleepy gaze.
"The sun is about to come up," he responded quietly, standing up quickly. "I should return to my watch outside."
All she could do was smile at his retreating back. This was not the first time she had woken to him rubbing her back or just watching her sleep. Though it might creep any other girl out, Hermione realized what he was doing. He was stopping her bad dreams. Of course, her dreams had instead turned to Draco and her... well... she didn't want anyone to know what exactly her dreams consisted of.
Sitting up, Hermione remembered the night she spent in Draco's arms. Ginny had been the one to encourage that, saying there was unresolved sexual tension between them. She thought Hermione was going to actually resolve that problem.
When she informed the red-head in the morning that they had done nothing more than kiss, she was met by a look of disappointment.
---
Ginny knew much more than she would ever let on. During the spell, she had seen how Draco looked into Hermione's eyes. She saw the love his look had carried.
It was undeniable, Draco Malfoy was madly in love with Hermione Granger. Naturally, it was unbeknownst to him.
Ginny smiled, observing Harry approach the Burrow through the kitchen window. It was well past dark, the rest of her family had already gone to bed. She had remained awake, watching for him.
Harry opened the door and seemed startled that Ginny was waiting. "I'll never get used to seeing nothing in the window but an empty house," he explained as he closed the door softly. He walked over to the table and retrieved a small cup from his pocket. Sitting down in a chair, he put the mystery down in front of him. "I don't think I will ever figure this out."
Ginny sat down beside him. "You shouldn't think like that," she said. "If you're negative about it, the spells won't be as strong. You need to think that you can do it; you need to be convincing that whatever you are doing is going to work. No matter how many times you fail."
Harry sighed exasperatedly. "The problem is that I don't know what spells to even use," he replied. "I wish Hermione could have stayed. She would know what to do."
"You should ask Ron," said Ginny with a grin. "He took all of Hermione's books from my room."
Harry gave her a look of disbelief. "He would have—"
"Ronald would not tell you unless you asked," she interrupted. "He wants you to ask for his help."
The puzzled Boy-Who-Lived frowned and looked back at the cup. "Of course he would be selfish about this," he said. "It's not like the fate of the world rests in our hands."
Ginny stood and headed for the stairs. "Wake him up in the morning when you leave," she told him. "I'm sure he'll be glad to help if you ask."
Just as her foot reached the first stair, Harry spoke, "Hold on," he said, standing and walking towards her. She stepped back and faced him.
Ginny cocked her eyebrow.
Without further warning, Harry grabbed her and pulled her into a deep embrace, nuzzling his face into her hair. "I've wanted to hold you like this again for months," he whispered.
She gave in and wrapped her arms around him. They stood together for what could have been a lifetime before he bent his head down and kissed the top of her head. The once-couple stepped away from each other and broke their hug.
"Goodnight, Harry," she said, giving him one last smile before going up the stairs.
"Goodnight, love," Ginny heard him reply as she reached the top.
---
Draco sat under the rising sun in the brisk morning air. He scanned the trees surrounding their set up. He had personally set up all of the protection charms, some he dared not tell Hermione he had used.
Something had been gnawing at this head about that girl, something Ronald Weasley had mentioned. The only way they could have ever performed that first spell would have been if she had damaged her soul in some way. At the time period those spells were used, it was a right of passage to be taught ways of opening your mind, body, and soul in order to use magic.
Part of him thought she had played around with ancient practices, while another suggested she had to have used something terrible. Or could it possibly been the process of the marriage bond which did it?
Just another way you wronged her, he thought to himself. Just then, Hermione came outside, fully dressed and ready for their next destination. Draco could not help but notice her hair was still in a tangle from sleep.
"What exactly did I do to receive that look?" she asked, cocking her head.
Not knowing what look he had given her, he could only remark the way his father would. "You disrupted my peaceful thinking with your hideous mess of hair," retorted the blonde.
She touched her hair and frowned. "I guess you're right," said Hermione. "It is a tad messy. Could you perhaps do one of those beauty charms you know?"
He glared, but obliged. With one single flick of his wand, her hair brushed itself out and turned into soft curls. "Beautiful," he heard himself say. Shit, I need to remember those thoughts are the kind best left in my head, he thought to himself, mentally kicking himself in the arse.
She looked around as if there were someone else around that would have said that. "What?" she asked quickly, looking highly bewildered by the comment.
"Let's get going," he responded, quickly waving his wand to pack up all their things. "I was thinking we could settle somewhere in Poland for the next few days. I know a very remote, abandoned village outside of Krakow. I doubt we'll have to worry about anyone, or anything for that matter, bothering us."
Hermione couldn't shake the feeling that he had something planned more than just going to Poland for isolation. The way he had been watching her since they left the Burrow and the sincerity in his eyes every time he said 'goodnight' to her. Draco had also taken a liking to watching outside, telling her to remain inside even when she was awake. He had acquired several books for Hermione from a library they had passed by somewhere in Scotland, but she had read through them all twice over and started feeling anxious from lack of worth.
He put their new, shrunken tent into his pocket and held his arm out for her to hold. She grasped on and closed her eyes as the rush of wind and sound compacted and suffocated her at the same time. When she had regained a sense of balance she opened her eyes. The field they stood in had a mixed beauty to it. Everything was dead from the cold, save for a couple of trees that looked like they could bear through the weather well.
Almost immediately Draco had put up the tent and started saying enchantments to keep people away from them. She watched him perform layer after layer of spells, walking in a growing circle around their camp. He did not stop until he had reached the edge of the field. This time, he placed a much broader area around them.
Once he returned near the tent he sparked a fire and pulled some pots and pans out of the bag he had minimized earlier along with the tent.
Twenty minutes later, he handed Hermione a bowl of vegetable soup. "Did you actually cook the Muggle way?" she asked with a smirk, which she had only recently acquired.
"It's very fulfilling to know I was able to steal without using magic," he started, sitting down beside her with his own bowl. "Even more so to know you did not notice."
She shook her head. "There are some things I will never understand about you, Malfoy," said Hermione.
"That's husband to you, Malfoy," he replied with a grin.
"Must you remind me?" she sardonically replied, rolling her eyes.
The rest of their meal was eaten in silence, aside from the slurping. Hermione finished every drop and cleaned the bowl with her wand before placing it inside their travel bag. She sat down once more beside Draco on the ground, her arms around her legs and her head upon her knees.
"Do you ever think we'll be safe again?" she asked, staring into the woods in front of her. "Will there ever be a time we won't have to run?"
Draco put his bowl on the ground and moved closer towards her, placing his arm around her. "When Harry wins the war," he said quietly to her. "You won't ever see my face again."
She lifted her arm and pulled his head towards hers. Resting her forehead on his, she spoke. "I don't want that to happen."
"Are you saying you'd rather the Dark Lord win?" asked Draco with a half-smile, knowing full well what she meant.
"Please, don't leave me," Hermione whispered quietly, shutting her eyes.
Draco brought his hand to her cheek. "I only assumed that would be your choice," he said. "To never see me again."
She opened her eyes and looked at him. "I would never be able to look in a mirror again if I tried to forget you," said the brunette softly. "I would see my own eyes, but be looking into yours."
"How very poetic."
"Shut up!"
"With one catch," he said before tilting his head down and claiming her lips. This time, she kissed back. He deepened it, leading his tongue into her mouth.
Without a second thought Draco grabbed her by the waist and pulled her on top of him. "Once again, we can go back to hating each other in the morning," he explained as he pulled her face to his yet again. "For tonight, however, I'll prove otherwise."
--
Hermione and Draco kissed for hours, but did nothing more. He wouldn't try anything more now. Of course, his original thought when he decided to bring her to Poland had been for something more, but he soon found out Hermione had done nothing more than kiss in her life.
He had tried slipping his hand up her shirt, and that's when it ended. She pushed his hand away, broke their kiss, and moved herself to sit beside him.
"Is something wrong?" he asked.
Hermione avoided his eyes. "I've never done anything like that before," she admitted. "I mean— I've kissed before like that, but not any further. I just don't think—"
"So you really are a prude, then?" he asked mockingly, his eyes flared more than they had in weeks.
Standing up, Hermione shot a glare at him. "I am not prude, you bastard," she shouted, her hands balled fists. "I just have not found the person that I would like to do anything more with. That includes you. Snogging you is one thing, fucking you would probably be the end of my life."
Draco stood up and threw his arms in the air. "How exactly would it be the end of your life?" he yelled back. "If anything, it would be the end of MINE. I am the one who ruined my status by marrying you. The fact that I even want to kiss you should make you feel honored!"
"Honored!?" she asked, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms. "You think I would be honored to kiss you? I am disgusted when I kiss you. I have hated you for the past seven years of my life, so in no way am I honored to kiss you!"
He took a step towards her. "If you had never kissed me, you would still be the foulest snogger in all of Europe," he remarked. "I am the one that taught you how to kiss so well."
She laughed. "Don't think so highly of yourself," said Hermione with a smirk. "Viktor Krum was a much better kisser than you."
"Is that your only experience then?"
"Why does it matter?"
"You of all people, Granger, should know perfection of anything takes practice. That's probably why old Viktor was so good. You weren't the first."
"Never once did I get the delusion that I was."
It was Draco's turn to smirk. "I have a feeling you did think that," he said. "You thought wonderful Viktor could not have possibly been whoring himself around at Hogwarts. Let me tell you, Granger, that not only was he seeing you, but on the side he was seeing someone from every House. Actually, there were two from Slytherin I personally know he did more than snog. I guess you just weren't doing enough."
"That is exactly why I never did more with him," she replied. "All you boys are the same; you act as if it's the greatest insult in the world to be denied sex."
By now Hermione had backed so far away that she was almost against the tent post. She was terrified this would end badly, violently. Draco stepped even closer. "Here you have me standing in front of you, offering to give you the greatest night of your life," he started. "And you're telling me that I'm not worthy enough. Sex is not about love—"
"Yes it is!" she shouted, her eyes were flaring up beautifully. "Sex is the greatest show of love. If I loved you, Malfoy, I would be all about it, but right about now I'm back to loathing you more than ever!"
He rushed forward and pushed her up against the tend post, pressing himself up against her. "Sex can be about that, too," he explained as she tried pushing him away. His head was only inches from hers. "I hate you more than anything, but for some reason all I want is to ravage you right here, right now."
She slammed her fist against his chest. "I'm saying no!" shouted Hermione.
He grabbed her chin and pulled her into a kiss. "I'm saying please," he said softly. His tone had changed quite a bit. Draco did no longer want to kill her, he just wanted her.
She pushed at him once more. "No," she said simply. He took a stepped back and released her.
Draco shrugged. "Your loss," he told her before conjuring an armchair and sitting down. Hermione stood still, in shock. She was certain he was going to force her. That was the reason he had brought her here, there was no one for miles, no one would have heard her if she had screamed. But he stopped. She sighed a breath of relief before entering the tent and lying down on the bed. Staring up at the ceiling Hermione pondered the past few months of her life more than ever before. Was Draco Malfoy really the one she should be trusting with her life? It was true he had saved her from an imminent death, and performed a deadly spell that could have cost him his own life just for hers, but was it all a ruse?
There had been times she thought he had tricked her with their compromise. I bet he's trying to get me to fall for him so he can still follow through with his father's plan, she contemplated. This is just one big mess I got myself into. Why did I eat from that tree?
It had just looked so appealing, like there was nothing wrong with it. And now Malfoy is doing the same, acting sincere and nice just to get me to follow him, to give in without knowing.
She stood up and peaked out of the tent, looking intently at the back of Draco's head. He was just like his father in every way, regardless of how often he told her he did not want to be like Lucius.
---
The rain was falling hard on the roof of the tent. Hermione lay on the bed, as usual, waiting for something to happen or somewhere new to go. Malfoy and her and not spoken for several days now, and neither had even tried to move to a new destination. What was the use? They would just end up in a different forest in a different country. Together they knew barely anything about the outside world, including their own. Hermione did not even know what day of the week it was, not to mention the month and date. She guessed it was passed Christmas. For all she knew it was mid-January, maybe even February. She had lost all sense of time, not being able to sleep since the last incident with Malfoy. Of course, she had been able to pretend very well when he had come in to check on her several times. Slowly she would open her eyes and yawn sleepily. He would only quickly glance at this and exit the tent once more. Hermione knew he had not slept either, for he never came into the tent to do so, and never once asked her to sit watch.
The days had become unbearably long and the nights even more so. She could hear noises in the trees, wind that sounded like whispering. Hermione was terrified. Not only was she being guarded by someone she no longer trusted, she had no clue where they were. Outside of Krakow, in Poland, she thought to herself. Sadly, this was no help seeing as she knew not a word of Polish, nor which direction the nearby city was from their location. If anything did happen, she would need Malfoy's directing.
Further she had pondered the relationship she had with her, for lack of a better word, husband. They had kissed heavily, and, yes, she had enjoyed it. But in her heart she knew she should not have. Hermione loved Ron, she had realized. If she had been able to stay at the Burrow, she would have told him everything. How much she thought of him, and how her stomach and heart both ached when she did so. Missing him was worse than missing her parents, or even Harry. It was something she had never felt.
On the other hand, the thought of having left Malfoy to fend for himself also made her stomach and heart ache. Certain this was just from the marriage ceremony, she shrugged it off. Another thought that troubled the hell out of her was the two ancient spells she had taken part of. The first one almost killed her because Malfoy did not think to protect her from the magic. If there had been more time to explain it, she would have told him to. It was a love spell, though, so she had assumed he would know what to do.
Although, now she realized he probably had never used ancient spells with that emotion. Hermione doubted he could even feel love anymore, not after Pansy. Even that love he spoke of was questionable. To her, it seemed more like an infatuation, or unhealthy addiction to something he could never have.
Every human has the need to be loved, so why would it be different for him? The only human she could think of incapable of love was Lord Voldemort, and Draco Malfoy was no where near that level. Malfoy just did not understand what love meant.
Then again, she would have died during the second spell if it had not been for him. If he had not felt love during that spell, surely she would be dead. So why did she feel like he hated her more than ever before? Moreover, why did she feel like she hated him even more?
It was crazy, everything that was going through her head. Not to mention the fact that they were probably being hunted, even though there had really been no sign of it since the incident at her parent's house. She wondered if the Burrow was safe. If it had been destroyed or attacked, she would not know. Malfoy had made her agree not to contact them for a little while longer, until things had quieted down slightly. For all they knew, things had gotten worse.
Oh, the pain in her stomach from all these thoughts. They were enough to kill a person. The times she had been able to fall asleep she had awoken to terrible nightmares of her parents, Harry, Ron, the Weasleys, all being tortured and killed by Death Eaters. The cold sweat and agonizing dreams had kept her from resting her eyes for two days now.
No longer did Hermione feel safe with Draco Malfoy's guard. His protection was no longer enough. It was all she had, but she knew it would soon falter. It just had to. He was not to be trusted.
More than once she almost came out and asked him if he had been planning all along to backstab her, but knew it would just cause another spat between them, maybe even a deadly one.
---
Draco sat in the pouring rain, a magical umbrella above his head. It did not matter though, he was already soaked. Having gone for a walk inside the perimeter of the spells he had created, his clothes and hair were both drenched, but he did not care anymore.
His chest felt tight; it was as if he had lost Pansy all over again. There was emptiness in him that would not subside.
What he had done several days ago he could not understand. After thinking for hours of his actions he could only come to one conclusion: Granger had been right, he was becoming his worst nightmare, his father.
Since he had discovered his father's true intentions of Granger, every thought he had of his father vanished. No longer was he the hero to Draco; he was the anti-hero, one could say. There was no use pretending he wasn't scared. Lucius scared him on a daily basis since he was about fourteen or so. Always talking about Draco 'carrying on his legacy' and 'making sure the bloodline stayed Pure'. When he was younger he thought his father was a god. Everything he said was fact.
Looking back now, Draco realized all the words his father ever spoke to him were bullshit. There was no legacy to carry on, the Dark Lord had made sure of that. Why his father had not seen it Draco still could not fathom.
Obviously, Lucius' devotion to the Dark Lord was more than just out of respect, it was sick delusion that all his dreams would come true. Every male in the Malfoy family had only one thing to protect: the bloodline. It was to be protected from impurities for all eternity. By killing Pansy, the Dark Lord had destroyed that with false reasoning.
His idea was not to create a super-powerful Witch or Wizard, it was payback, vengeance. Call it what you will, it was pure evil. The Dark Lord had overlooked his own life plan to destroy someone else's. What kind of human gets sick pleasure from that?
Draco sure did not. The last thing he wanted anymore was to hurt Granger, no matter how much she wanted nothing to do with him. And he had lost her to his fucking hormones.
If he had been patient and understanding— wait... was Draco Malfoy actually considering getting Hermione Granger to fall in love with him?
Of course not! It was insanity to even suggest!
Draco Malfoy was not in love with Hermione Granger.
The laws of nature would not permit it. Everything about her he hated. Except those eyes, and that smile, and the way she said 'Draco' in that eloquent, innocent way.
Bloody hell! Was this honestly his train of thought? Thinking of a Mudblood? Enjoying how she spoke his name?
It was a scandal that Draco could not escape. He didn't even want to try.
Obviously, he had fallen for her, but to what extent? Occasionally he would still think of Pansy and his heart would lurch into his throat. Sometimes he caught himself reminiscing about what he loved about her so much, and why he missed her. He could not possibly have already started falling for another girl. Especially Hermione Granger.
He hated her. No, he loathed her. She was insufferable. The only human that could ever feel for her was that red-headed snob Ron Weasley.
She may be his wife, but he did not have to like her in anyway possibly.
That spell sure did mess with him. A lot.
How could he get out of this?
Draco smirked and stood up as a thought occurred to him.
He needed to remind her what made them rivals at school. Draco was about to make them enemies for life once more.
---
Malfoy flew into the tent looking absolutely livid and stood before Hermione, who sat up quickly. "You filthy whore, why haven't you so much as tried to do the watch for even an hour?" he shouted angrily.
She stood up, confused. "Because you haven't asked me," she said timidly. This had come as a surprise. Hermione had assumed he would ask if he wanted her to sit outside and take guard for him.
"Because you haven't asked me," he mocked shrilly. She was taken aback. "You did not assume I would need sleep?"
"I assumed you would ask—"
"You assumed wrong, you swine," shouted Malfoy. "I saved your life, and the least you could is to let me sleep for eight hours every few days!"
"I'll take watch now," she said, standing up and heading for outside. He grabbed her arm and Hermione could only think that this was it. She had finally made him snap. Her carelessness and pondering would get her killed. Her heart started racing.
"It's too late for that," he said evilly as he pulled her closer to him. "I have it in my mind that I should just turn you in, give you to the Dark Lord and pray for forgiveness. Tell everyone you tricked me into leaving by unfulfilled promises."
She breathed in heavily. "Please let me go, you're hurting me," she said softly. Even her words were betraying her now. How she wanted to scream at him, tell him she knew all along this would happen. She never should have trusted this prat.
"You're so selfish," screamed Malfoy in her ear. "Never have a met someone so self-concerned. First you leave your friends, and now you don't even care about your husband, regardless of the circumstances. You're the biggest coward I've ever met!"
Her eyes started watering. Hermione couldn't help it, every emotion was running through her and she did not know what more she could do. Her life was over, and no one would even care. They would all think it was her fault. She felt her face turning redder and her eyes tearing up heavily. "I didn't want to leave!" she cried. "I did what that tree told me!"
He rolled his eyes and threw her down. "I don't believe that for one second," replied the blonde angrily. "You wanted out from fighting the war and you left that tree there yourself."
"You don't even make sense," she said from the ground, cowering and wiping her eyes. "How could I have known what was going to happen?"
Hermione could feel his rage growing more at her and crawled backwards until she hit the inside of the tent.
"You ruined my life and everything good in it! And now I'll make you pay for it!" He pulled his wand from his robe and pointed it at her. She quickly pulled her own from her pocket. He only laughed. "You don't scare me!"
Still crying, her own body filled with rage. "I should!" she shouted. "You told me before that I did not know the things you had done, well guess what, Draco Malfoy, I've done some terrible magic as well. I know a lot more things than you would ever realize!"
She could see him panting heavily, but his façade was fading, she could tell. There was something more to this.
"Tell me, little Miss Innocence, what you could possibly have done," he inquired, his wand still pointed directly at her.
"Th-that Death Eater that was killed last year when Dumbledore died," she announced. "That was me! I killed him! I only told everyone it was another Death Eaters spell! I used the Killing Curse!"
---
Hermione Granger's word echoed in Draco's mind. She had used the Killing Curse, and lied about it.
He could feel his face drop, and his false anger disappear. He shook his head, for it could not be true. Granger was not capable of those things, she was too good.
"I don't believe you," he said, not hesitating, wand still at the ready. "You would never—"
"I did!" she said surely. "The only person that knows is Ginny; she was standing there when I said it!"
He still could not believe her words.
"That's why I can use ancient magic," she explained loudly, her voice still sounding frightened. "I damaged my soul!"
Draco had not even been able to use the Killing Curse, even when it threatened his life and his families. Of course, it would make sense. It was the missing puzzle piece he had been trying to figure out since they used the first spell. Their souls had been intertwined during that spell because they both had been damaged, not because he had damaged his so much.
For the first time, Draco was speechless. He lowered his wand and closed his eyes.
"Why—"
"He tried to kill Ron," said Granger. "He was in the middle of saying the curse himself, and I beat him to the punch. I just couldn't tell anyone."
Draco sat down on the bed; he needed to think this one through. Little Miss Perfect had done the thing he had feared most to do himself. She had actually outdone him on something. Not that he would be proud to kill someone, but the fact that she had the courage to do so astounded him.
"I never thought you had it in you, Granger," he heard himself say honestly, still shaking his head in disbelief.
She did not move from her own comatose, nor did she stow her wand away.
"I'm done," he said, standing up once more. He really was. Draco needed to think once more. "Go to sleep."
---
A/N: Yes, I know, it's been almost another year for a chapter. And I had promised to write last April as much as I possibly could. Well, there you go, Chapter Nine. Chapter Ten is just about done, and when I get a decent amount of Chapter Eleven done, you can have Chapter Ten. Although, this time I cannot make any promises. I've been switching between finishing this, finishing Technically and finishing a one-shot I started last week for Dragon Age: Origins. I know, I know, this should be priority number one, but I need to get back into Dramione mode fully before I can start pumping out three chapters a night again. Be proud that I was able to make this chapter 6,200 words, though. I think it's one of my longest yet.
Regardless, please review (and be sure to complain of my absence, it will just remind me to write), and continue reading. Those of you having followed this since the beginning, I praise you for not having chased me down and tickled me silly, and thank you for your time. I hope this is still to your liking. Those just joining in, I wouldn't be hopeful of an ending any time soon. It takes me a good amount of time to write now, especially since I feel like my writing now is under par, compared to what previous writings were like.
Oh well, I love you all. Please enjoy, review, and criticize.
Love,
LeeLee the Lunatic
