The Quarter Moon Gamble: PART TEN
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AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks go to DarkChang for giving me an awesome idea. Can't tell you all what it was but it's gonna change the outcome of this entire kidnapping section. See? It does help to review. Oh! Someone came close to figuring out what the tattoo was. But they were slightly off. Sorry. Try again.
And I'd like to welcome all those who followed me here from Coloured Grey. Fabulous site! Do check out ContraVeritas (a Draco/Hermione fansite), for all those that just can't help going against all reasons. Please excuse the relatively short chapter, and see my author profile for my favorite D/Hr photos.
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The three escaped Hogwarts that night and found they were not alone. "Ginny?" Hermione whispered at the edge of the lands. "What are you doing here?" The sun had not yet risen.
"You can't leave me behind!" she groaned. Ron shot her an angry, worried brother look and she calmed her tone.
She looked at Harry, who looked away. Hermione caught this subtle glance and said, "You told her, didn't you?"
"I'm sorry, Hermione. I told her everything," he responded. Ron looked at Harry crossly.
She could tell this was not all of it. Ginny would not follow them through the darkness alone for no reason. "You meant it as a goodbye, didn't you?" she asked more solemnly. He nodded slowly, still refusing to look Ginny straight in the eye. "Well that I understand. But Ginny, I can't be responsible if anything happens and Harry especially can't. Can you hold your own?"
"It's my choice. I want to go too."
"Yes, I figured. That's why I asked. Just don't get yourself hurt? It might kill the Boy Who Lived and then clichés would just float through the air, and it's bloody annoying."
Ginny raised an eyebrow. "You've been hanging around Malfoy too long," she said with a slight smirk, going for Harry's hand and walking up the path with the rest.
This caught Hermione like a brick to the head. He had influenced her. It comforted her to know she that a small part of him remained with her even when all she could sense was a far-away beacon of sadness.
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Some time later, they had mounted a train. She wasn't sure why but they had to go south. The map in her head would lead her to him. If only she knew if it was worth following. It was just a glimmer, getting stronger as they went.
"So where are we going?" Ginny asked, trying to cheer up the other three.
"Home," Ron said, staring out the window. "We need to borrow Dad's car."
"Are you kidding me?"
"We need something fast to take us there. Dad recently souped up the engines so it should get us wherever we need to go quicker than this ratty old thing," he replied and slid down the seat, his arms crossed and his face solemn.
Hermione looked over at him and furrowed her brow. "He ok?" she whispered to Harry.
He leaned in and responded, "How would you feel if you were him?"
She sighed and answered, "Like crap."
"Exactly."
She shook off all inhibitions and looked out the window at the passing winter scenery. "I'd be in Potions right now," she said to no one and everyone. They all stopped whatever distant conversation they had going to look at her with pity. They knew what she knew: No matter how much they tried, they'd never be the same again.
"Consider yourself lucky then," Ron responded. "No homework."
"Oh Ron, that doesn't matter," she responded, resting her head on the glass to imagine herself closer to the fields of melting snow. "20 years from now, do you think I want to remember all the homework I did for school or do I want to remember the good times?"
"Hermione, I was just--" he tried to apologize.
"You know what I think I'll remember most?" They all looked dangerously aware that she was making no real sense. Their eyes ineffectively hid tears but they let her continue. "Third year when I rode Buckbeak with you, Harry. That was a great ride. You know I hate flying but that sheer feel of danger and spontaneity and riding a living creature with its own heartbeat, its own thoughts? That doesn't come from a broom. That's kind of how I feel with Draco, all the time. My heart doesn't stop running to catch his and my mind just melts off into a distant corner. It's… exhilarating, even when we're standing still. I'd kill to get that back."
Ginny smiled gently but Hermione never saw it. She was too busy following with her eyes the tear that rolled slowly down her cheek in her reflection on the glass.
A little while later, Ron broke the silence. He had been studying Hermione's eye movements as she looked out the window. They were focused, like she was so busy thinking that she wasn't really looking at anything at all. The scenery must have seemed a blur, he thought. "Can you sense him?" he said, which snapped Ginny and Harry to attention.
"He's somewhere wet and dark. He's calling for me, and there's an echo. I think he's in a dungeon somewhere. He still hurts from before but I think he's ok. He's not tied up at least," she responded, still not shifting her glance.
"Anything on a place?"
"It's not too far," she said then turned to them for the first time in hours. "And I'm working on finding out where. But it won't be easy. There's Dark magic in the works."
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The Burrow was quiet that morning. Everyone still slept, as per tradition on lazy Saturday mornings at the Weasleys'. Hermione didn't notice them sneaking into the garage for the car. She was too consumed in her thoughts, in keeping Draco close. Ginny led her the whole way to the car. Harry and Ron took the front.
"Someone's coming," Hermione said as they mounted the air. "Not here. Where Draco is. He hears footsteps."
"Did he tell you who took him?" asked Harry.
"No, but-- Oh my--" she said and clung to her heart. "I can't hear! It's stopped!" she yelled.
At this, Ron slammed on the breaks and they floated over a small man-made lake near Devon. "Ow!" Harry groaned, hitting his head against the dashboard. The shift had snapped Hermione out of it.
"It's lost," she whispered, looking to Ginny with sad eyes.
"Maybe we should tell Dumbledore," Ron said, seeing her bend forward, as if to throw up, from the car mirror.
"No!" she yelled. "No rescue operative will ever trust a kid to lead the way just because I have a hunch. If we're going to do this, we're doing it ourselves… Draco told me he had a mansion near Hogwarts. Could they have taken him there? What about Malfoy Manor? What if it's not the Death Eaters or his father?"
"Hermione, calm down!" Ginny said, reaching for her hand. "None of us are giving up."
"Ron, if it makes you feel better, here," she said and handed him a piece of folded paper. "Dumbledore probably knows I left. He gave me this piece of paper a long time ago, the day after the fight at the lake when you thought I'd gone missing. He told me to fold the paper into any bird and it'll find him instantly."
"Why hadn't you shown us this?" he responded, taking the folded parchment reluctantly.
"I didn't really think it had a purpose until I saw myself kneeling next to a puddle of Draco's blood! He gave it back to me when he told me about the break-in at St. Mungo's." And just like that she snapped her head up to look at that phantom spot she used to think and whispered, "Venice. He's in Venice. Go. Now!"
Ron put on a devious smirk, one that rivaled Draco's, and asked Harry to open the glove box. Inside, there was a single green button. "Press it and everyone hang on," he said and braced himself to the wheel. "Venice!" he yelled and Harry pressed the button. And just like that, they passed over northern France in a matter of minutes, the world passing around them like one giant blur on their way to Italy.
Ginny held tighter onto Hermione's hand but she had gone again to that spot where Draco dwelled as well. "Something's wrong," she whispered. "He won't speak to me. I can only feel his presence… Oh my God, Harry. It's Voldemort. He's there!"
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A few moments before, Draco was escorted to his father's study like the events of before had never occurred. His father always made little of everything he did. This time, he'd gone bonkers and forgotten what torture might have on the poor boy's… oh, chances of living.
"Hello, Father," he said through gritted teeth, limping toward him across the vast expanse between the large wooden doors to the father's desk against the back window. The walls beside them were covered with bookshelves filled with dark literature and the floor, a dark mahogany wood that matched the desk in the distance.
"Stop," Lucius said and got up off the desk where he sat going over papers. "Let me look at you. Ah, you've healed sufficiently."
"Sufficiently for what?" Draco asked, pulling away as his father went to touch his cast.
"You know, you weren't this snippy before you found out about the Mudblood."
Draco squinted his eyes dangerously. "Are you sure? Even you can't be everywhere at once. I assure you, I was snippy soon as your arse was turned. Now I just don't bother, seeing as you tried to kill me," he said and screamed the last two words, which echoed through the walls of the old Venice house.
Lucius raised an eyebrow and smacked Draco across his left cheek with the back of his hand so hard that Draco didn't bother turning back to face him, knowing he would try it again first chance he got. "How dare you?" he growled.
Draco smiled and touched his cheek with light fingers, turning to face him again. "The question is not how. It is why. And she's waiting for me. So if you're done here, I'd like to walk away from here and never see you again, understand?"
"You'd walk away from your family? After all I've done for you?" Lucius growled. He would not yell. This was slightly worse.
Draco, however, found it hard to restrain his anger. "What part of you tried to kill me do you not understand?"
"You cannot leave us, Draco. And it is not up to me to hold you back. You're already dead to me. Our Lord does not forget so easily," he said and walked back behind the desk to grab a newspaper and throw it closer to Draco. "Death Eater homes are being raided. Objects are being found in places only an insider would know of. We cannot forgive your betrayal or the others you have made lost to us."
Draco took a single step back, fearing the look in his father's eyes. "You don't have to do this."
"I won't be doing a thing," he said and looked behind Draco.
Draco went to turn around but a dark figure was already towering over him. Before he could scream, the light in his eyes went out and he collapsed onto the floor. When he awoke, he sat on the floor, absentmindedly holding onto his arm.
"What is this? What's happened?" he said to no one in particular. His father stood behind a tall creature with slits for a nose and eyes that Draco feared would steal his soul. "Voldemort…" he whispered.
The creature snapped to him. He bent down ever so slightly and lifted Draco up by his collar in one fluid motion. He tore the sleeve off Draco's shirt and threw it to the ground behind him, then gripped his arm with a force that he could feel as the Dark Mark was being burnt into him.
"You will forget your childish allegiances. You have been trained Draco Malfoy. You belong to us from the day you were born and no silly infatuation will change that. You cannot leave us, child. But you will take me with you wherever you go, burning into the depths of your soul until…" Voldemort hissed, leaning in to Draco's frightened face to continue darkly, "you learn you do not betray the Dark Lord."
Pain began to blind him until all Draco saw was the light in the back of his head, the image of Hermione smiling as they walked down the path beside the lake. And then the light went away and Draco was submerged into the darkness.
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When they reached Venice, Hermione practically ran out of the car in mid-air. She found the dock and tried to run but found that the feeling had dwindled too much too quickly and she had no idea where to go. She took two steps east and stopped. Two west, and stopped.
The other three looked on at her madness from the car. Ron sighed and got out of the car. "Should we try a spell?" he asked, standing beside her as she squinted at the buildings in the distance.
"No. No magic can enter a Malfoy's home," she said, not bothering to shift her vision or her actions to face him. "It's probably more protected than Hogwarts. And with Dark magic so don't even think about it."
"Then what?" said Harry.
Ginny walked up behind them and pointed to the sky in the far distance. "We wait for them to find us," she said, horrified.
"What?"
"It's You-Know-Who. I can sense him, because of what happened with the Chamber. He's calling his brethren to bring Harry to him." Her voice trembled. Harry wrapped an arm around her and brought her in to him.
In the far distance, a cloud of what seemed tiny black birds flew to them atop brooms, their coats ruffling through the air.
"What are we going to do?" Ron yelled. "Let's get out of here!"
"No," Hermione whispered. "He's flying with them. They have him."
"So what? We wait to be slaughtered?"
"Take Harry and Ginny and leave. They don't care about me. I can still reach him. He's so close…"
"Hermione, no!" Ginny yelled as Harry pulled her to the car, struggling to run back to her friend.
"I won't leave you here alone, Hermione," Ron said, taking her hand and facing the oncoming front of Death Eaters. "Harry, take my sister back to school. Don't tell Dumbledore where we are."
"But--" Harry began. Hermione pulled out her wand and summoned a wind so strong that it blew him up into the air and into the car beside Ginny.
"GO!" she yelled. Harry started the car and flew out, knowing he had to get Ginny to safety above all else. Had it been just the three of them, he would have stood right there beside her.
Alone, they saw into the distance at the approaching menace. Hermione was frozen, her eyes detached from reality. She was searching for a feeling that couldn't exist anymore. And then they landed. Ron felt his fear turn into a knot in his throat the size of Edinburgh and he squeezed her hand even tighter. It didn't snap her out of her delusions. All she felt was the gentle breeze moving her hair about.
Three of the dark horde in black robes came forward to them. Hermione loosened her grip on Ron and smiled slightly at the figure on the far right. "Draco…" she whispered. The three pulled back their hoods. Two blondes and Voldemort.
Draco smirked sinisterly. "Hello… Mudblood."
Hermione's smile went away. She ignored the Dark Lord's presence and walked right up to Draco, curiously fluttering behind her eyes. "What did they do to you?" she whispered and placed a hand on his arm. She could feel his lingering pain. "The Dark Mark?"
Draco's smirk didn't go away. He pulled away from her and slapped her. He felt the pain in himself, a relapse to what little Veela had not been burned away by the Mark.
Hermione raised a hand to cover her mouth but it could not stop the tears. "No… What have they done?" she yelled. "This isn't you!"
But he was cold and refused to hear. She went to caress his arm but he caught her wrist in his clutches. Ron walked slowly to Hermione, keeping his eyes fixed on Voldemort as if in a trance, instigated by fear.
"Hermione, come on," he whispered in her ear and pulled her away from him. She stared at Draco's cold eyes, looking for that light, even as Ron pulled her back to the edge of the dock.
"I think not," said Voldemort and froze them. "Shall we kill them Lucius?"
"No!" yelled Draco. "If she dies, I die. Leave them to me. I'll make them see our cause, whether they want to or not."
Voldemort did not trust him but knew he could not kill her. The Veela curse had been a meddlesome part of Lucius' indoctrination as well. "Fine. You may keep her as your pet. But we kill the boy."
Lucius squinted his eyes. "He is a Weasley, master. If he joins us, he will give us access to the Ministry."
"I've plenty of access to the Ministry, Malfoy. But I suppose the girl will not come swiftly if we kill her friend. Use him as bait. Bring Potter to me and you may keep her," he hissed with great presence and turned around, his cloak ruffling in the wind.
Draco sneered in the two's direction as they unfroze. He took out his wand, bound their hands with tight rope, and said, bored, "You are our property now. Do as we say and you will live, understood?"
Hermione was unknowingly crying, no matter how strong her face. Anger had found her. Ron looked deathly. He was not used to being brave.
They followed the small horde of death eaters and Hermione mounted onto Draco's broom and Ron with a small pudgy Death Eater's. The winds were harsh but they held onto and suppressed their fears of the unknown until they landed in front of a large house with large gray columns and two wide balconies in the front on the first two of the six floors. The high windows were made of a green-tinted glass so no one could see in and the walls were a yellowing concrete raised above the water. Its front door was a vast sea.
Five Death Eaters began to chant a spell Hermione didn't recognize but paid close attention to. It lifted the charms to the entrance and opened the wide doors, welcoming them to their lavish prison. Draco took Hermione's arm and pointed his wand to her throat. "Come with me. If you resist, I'll kill you," he said, moving the wand towards the door farthest down the right hallway next to the entrance. Hermione looked at Ron as if telling him to be careful. He nodded back as they took him to the dungeons beneath the house.
Draco closed the door behind him and pushed her back on the bed. She could tell this was his room. It was elegant and dark and green, but preserved the childish nature she'd come to love. But this was not her Draco and she could not expect him to treat her as such. Still, she tempted the sleeping beast.
"Draco, what did they do?" she asked as he went to loosen the collar on his shirt. "Why can't I talk to you anymore… the way we could, in our thoughts?"
"Be silent!" he yelled, tossing his shirt to the sofa by the large window. He began to loosen his belt and that's when she got worried.
"Draco…"
"Silence!" he yelled again and stopped bothering with his pants. He stormed to the bed where she sat on the edge and pushed her back, raising her bound hands above her head and kissing her passionately, painfully.
"Draco, stop!" she yelled as he moved to kiss and bite her neck, still holding her arms down above her. "Stop this right now! This isn't you!"
He gave a small growl and parted from her clavicle and said cruelly, "Listen and listen well, girl. Whatever we had was dead. Whoever I played for you to get you into bed was a complete game. I never loved you and I never can. All we had was cursed lust, nothing more. As long as you live here, you are under my protection but you are also my slave. When I want you, I will take you and your permission is not required. Do you understand?"
She looked straight into his eyes and replied his cold gaze with anger but she knew better and whispered, "This isn't you. I know the real you. No matter what you do to me, you cannot make me believe I meant nothing to you. You may not have wanted to but you loved me. And I know deep inside you, you still do. You can do what you want with me. It doesn't even matter anymore."
A flash of light found his eyes and he looked away, confused. He wondered if he had once loved her, for this he couldn't remember. To him it had been a game, a part of the Gamble. But she was so sure she loved him that for an instance, it had hurt him to hurt her.
"Have I…" he whispered. He shook his head and the darkness was back in his eyes.
She knew she could do nothing to sway him from this deception and gave in. She relaxed under him, closed her eyes, and rested back her head, expecting him to continue.
He went to ravage her again, when suddenly…
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TO BE CONTINUED…
For special pictures of our favorite couple, see the links on my author page by clicking on my name, NeuroticMuse413, above. If you'd like to suggest any to my collection, please review. I only like photos of Tom Felton if they are from the third movie and up so please note.
See also the current cover of The Quarter Moon Gamble, featuring Tom Felton and the original catchphrase for the story, "Some are just born this sexy."
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REVIEW! o.O Now dammit! What are you waiting for? If you got this far, you damn well better!