Twenty Sinful Nights with Draco Malfoy: PART TEN

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: We're not even close to the end, my loves.

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It felt like a dream. The Essence had taken over like a second heart, second brain… second will to live. She could feel Draco's presence at Hogwarts. She could feel his fear and his desire. Those were real. Before Ginny could even notice she had gone, Hermione was walking through the great and infamous Hogwarts grounds into the Great Hall, where he waited for her.

She walked through a great mist. Everything was in slow motion. Everything was different. Hogwarts was the same but the people had changed. The wind no longer carried the cries of lost lovers. She reached the teacher's table and turned around. She saw herself in the seat beside Draco, laughing over Christmas dinner. She saw the mistletoe and the holly.

And just like that, Voldemort walked through the doors and with a great gasp, she was thrust through the mist, past him, and out the doors from whence she came.

She awoke still in the hotel in the town, alone in her room. "GINNY!" she yelled and she and Adlai came running. "GINNY, HE'S COMING!"

"Whoa, calm down 'Mione. You're fine. You're safe. Who's coming?" Ginny asked as Adlai slipped on the floor beside her trying to catch up.

She started to shake and turn blue. She couldn't speak. She tried and tried until finally she burst out with, "Voldemort!" Ginny jumped up and Adlai came to help but Hermione kept clawing at his arms. "He's coming in a year! To Hogwarts! He's coming!"

"That's impossible," Ginny replied.

"You've seen it!" Hermione turned to Adlai. "The mist and Christmas and the holly…" Adlai stepped back as if having someone else see his nightmares made them all too real. He couldn't breathe and stumbled outside. Ginny saw him leave but didn't follow.

"Alright. Alright, when?"

"Oh my God," she whispered. "This is what Draco was going to tell me on the lake. He's coming for Dumbledore! Voldemort's coming himself. They don't know! They don't know!"

"That's impossible. How's he getting in?" Ginny tried to sound calm but her heart was beating a mile a minute. The sound of it was giving Hermione a headache.

"We need to see Lucius now more than ever. He knows. Agh. I think he tried to stop it. He tried to protect Draco. I felt it. He watched over us in the vision. He pulled me out."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Now I know you've gone mad."

"How long's it been, Ginny?" she asked, afraid of the answer.

"20 Nights."

"Oh Lord. Do you think he saw it? The vision? Draco I mean. He shouldn't have. It'll frighten him. He might try to run."

"If I know Draco -- well I don't – but I know he'll wait for you. He loves you, right? He knows you're coming."

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"Don't analyze me," Draco growled, watching the old man drink his tea. He wasn't in the mood for another one of his talks. In the last conference, Harry was brought in and they were to apologize. Harry couldn't get past sarcasm. Draco couldn't stop laughing uncontrollably. The issue of someone's mother was brought about and it started a fist fight. Dumbledore got fed up and kicked them out, but it seemed like he had calmed down.

"It's been nearly a month, Draco. I know you miss her but you needn't take it out on me," he replied.

Draco took his empty tea cup from his lap and set it down on Dumbledore's desk. "It's been 20 days, actually."

He stood up and was about to excuse himself when Dumbledore said, completely ignoring him, "And I know you'd rather eat a long-eared newt than talk to me, but SIT!"

Draco jumped back down into his seat. I guess he hasn't gotten over it yet, he thought.

"Talk to me," he said. "Tell me what you're feeling. I don't know what else to offer you to help you!"

"What? You want me to talk about Hermione? So you can pretend to be goat boy? No thank you." Looking back on it, the goat boy remark may not have been wise. He thought he heard Dumbledore growl but it could have been his imagination, and took out his wand, refilled his cup, and sunk low in his chair.

"I'll forgive that one but keep in mind, even I have a nerve and you're close to striking it."

"I don't want to talk about her… Tell me about you and Om-ree."

"You still call her that, after knowing her name?"

"Don't worry. I have no intention of joining her little slave camp." He sipped. "Stop avoiding it. For the last week, I've asked to know, from both of you. Tell me the truth. Do you love her?"

"Obviously not in the way you love Hermione, but it was close. She was pompous and rude and would have nothing to do with me. Until, I fell off my broom during Quidditch while at school and she stayed with me. I knew it had to do with Aberforth being away and maybe it was a favor to him, but I did a very evil thing…"

Draco leaned forward. He stopped breathing so to hear everything.

"I kissed her. I couldn't resist it. And then I wanted more. I used magic to get it."

"Oh Lord. My headmaster is a horndog."

"Not that, you silly boy. I tried to break my brother and Eli up. I tried for years to find a cure for the curse."

"Did you get close?"

"I'm not sure. Not to being rid of it. I managed to bottle it, the science of it. It was outstanding. It didn't matter. They left to be married and I found someone knew. And at some point, I stopped thinking about her."

Draco laughed. "Yea right. That's not possible. Where's her picture, professor?"

"What?"

"I have a picture of Hermione in my breast pocket. Where do you keep yours?"

Dumbledore sighed and leaned back. He pondered it, reached down and opened one of his desk drawers and put a small picture, over a 100 years old, atop his papers, then leaned back and stared at it like it was some sort of forbidden thing he was not allowed to touch but couldn't help being fascinated by.

Draco raised an eyebrow. He reached over and picked up the picture. There, within its simple white frame, was Dumbledore as a young boy, hugging Elizabeth for dear life as she laughed uncontrollably. They swayed, as he and Hermione did, as if dancing. He thought of the dreams and blushed slightly. Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. Draco set it back down and leaned back in his chair as Dumbledore had done, staring at the forbidden moment captured for eternity.

"It's not easy, is it?"

"No. But yours is still here. You still have a chance. I've brought her back. Tell her!"

"She's a Veela, Draco. I can never interfere with that."

"Obviously you already have. And sir… I don't know how strong her lineage is… but I think she still loves you. I know it."

"That's impossible."

Draco stood up. "Maybe. But she'd die without you." Dumbledore looked up. "I wouldn't tell you if she didn't say so herself."

He walked to the door until heard Dumbledore reluctantly call his name. "Draco… there's something you should know… It's about you and Hermione."

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Hermione left Dufftown with Ginny and Adlai, leaving their pasts in that little room. Hermione seemed to want to reclaim it most of all. She knew she'd return and left a shoe behind. She figured it was poetic, a fairy tale. If he followed her trail… If only, if only…

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Draco stormed out of Dumbledore's office. He didn't know whether to hit a wall or cry in a corner. Hell, he ended up doing both. He looked at his hand. He'd broken a knuckle, he was sure. "Goddamn castle stone!" he yelled, cursing generations of architects.

Harry came into the infirmary that day to visit Ron and the rest, only to find Draco on the floor against the bedside table, hidden between two beds.

"The Slytherin section's over there," Harry said callously, gesturing towards the far end of the hospital wing.

"I don't belong there anymore," he responded softly.

"What?"

"I said 'I don't belong there anymore,'" he screamed.

Harry saw it, like a flicker of light in his eyes. The pain. He was all too familiar with it. It'd been eating at him for a year, only to kill him when she left.

"Do me a favor?" Harry said. "Tell me this isn't about Hermione."

"It's about Hermione."

Harry cursed to himself and sat on the edge of Ron's bed. "What'd Dumbledore say? You have that face. I know it too well. He just told you something he's been keeping from you for years… 'for your own good.' Now you're forced to reevaluate your entire life, your friends…"

"Hermione."

"What? Why would you?"

"It wasn't real, Potter. They kept trying to tell me. Om-ree, the Seer… we weren't real."

Harry sighed, thinking whether or not he wanted to hear his mortal enemy throw up his heart. But he stayed for Hermione, because it mattered to her too. And maybe, he thought of Ginny. He thought if two people who were born to love each other for eternity couldn't make it work, what chance did he and Ginny have?

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Ginny was terrified. Hermione had begun to talk to herself, to Ron and Neville like they stood beside her. They'd reached the train station at Roxenburg. They were getting close to Azkaban. Ginny and Adlai wanted to fly the rest of the way but Hermione insisted they take the train. She was trying to prolong the truth. Ron warned her. He knew. He could hear it just inches from Harry and Draco, but she didn't want to believe it.

Azkaban was a haunted legend. It was dark and gloomy and endless like a maze. The Dementors felt her coming and lined the walls to let her through. They were everywhere. There was an endless cold that warned Ginny and Adlai to stay outside, but inside, the cells were dark and hot as hell. Hermione tried not to look at the faces of the prisoners.

And then she saw it, Lucius' cell. He hadn't been kissed by the Dementors yet. He was just kept away like a hidden resource or a china plate meant only for appearances. She knew she should pity him but a man of his evil should never be pitied. He should be left to hang.

"You," he said when he saw her come in. Her jaw stiffened so much, it hurt.

"Yes. Me." Her tone was disdainful. She hated being bitter but he deserved nothing better.

"You've come for me, haven't you? You've come to kill me."

She furrowed her brow. "No. Should you be killed?" she replied, leaning against the cell bars.

"Yes," he whispered. "Many times over. But then you've come for help. Where is Draco?"

She shook her head. "I don't know." She felt ashamed. She felt like she should know where he was at every instant. Veelas are like that. It was an instinct. But then, she couldn't keep up that façade any longer.

"You know everything. If anyone can understand, it's you. You're brilliant, aren't you? Yes, he would only have gone for the brightest. He obviously didn't pick you on looks," he said, staring at her face like she was a television set.

Her expression didn't change. He knew he couldn't coerce her with insults like most people. She had very little ego, mostly pride. Draco would have been attracted to that as well.

"What did you do to us?" she asked, still unchanging. Cold, as he had always been.

"I did not know it would be you."

"Tell me."

"It was a mistake, to keep us in power as our Lord rose."

"TELL ME THE TRUTH!" she yelled.

She looked at his dirty, tired face and saw remorse. For the first time, she saw it. "First, know I never meant for my son get hurt. But when I was at Hogwarts, I ran across a very dark secret. You see, Dumbledore had a weakness. A woman. A Veela, like my family had been centuries ago. Voldemort was recruiting not just rich families. They had to have a ruthless, cut-throat lineage to boot. He could use Veelas, males especially. We'd be safe, have a place in the new order, if I could fake the strength of the line."

"What did you do?" she growled.

"I stole a potion from Dumbledore. I drank it and so met my wife. She couldn't resist me. The desire nearly killed us. And then it died. Voldemort had become all powerful and for a time, my plan had worked. I was in."

She hid her face in her hands. She didn't want to believe the consequences. "How did it pass to Draco?"

"Voldemort wondered why Draco hadn't claimed a mate. I had to give it to him. He needed the desire Veelas impart on others to corrupt Hogwarts. He needed it to kill Dumbledore."

She gulped and continued for him, "Voldemort was going to send Draco to kill him, wasn't he?"

He nodded.

"Dear God, it was all a lie. He and I…"

"You were real, child. You choose to let it die. We all choose. Fight." She gave a small nod and was about to leave when he called out for her. "And can you please tell my son I'm sorry. That I couldn't be there for Narcissa when--"

"I'll tell him. I just don't think he'll forgive you."

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TO BE CONTINUED IN PART ELEVEN:

--Where will the final battle be fought?

--Who will win? At what cost?

--What will happen when Ginny and Harry reunite?

--How are Hermione and Draco going to make up those 20 nights?

--Will Om-ree ever forgive Dumbledore?

--Will Hermione and Draco ever forgive each other?

--How far are they willing to go to fight?

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