Plot: The final instalment of 'Her Memory' (previous two chapters)

Hermione is being forced to work with the man she hates most to save the wizarding world from the people he used to lead. Can they work together and deal with their past, or will the darkness consume them whole?

Notes:

It seemed clear that everyone agreed that they would like a final instalment to finish it off. So here it is! A few people expressed a desire for a HEA for Dramione. I didn't think that was realistic for this story... so I compromised with something in the middle. Hope you like it

There will be no more of this one after now and I will be back to the one shots. More prompts like this one though please…. Such a fun one.

Disclaimers:

M for ADULT audiences and I don't own HP or profit from this, or any of my other stories.

Her Memory Part III – Bad Blood

"Absolutely not," yelled Hermione, unequivocally disgusted that Kingsley would even suggest it.

As predicted, he had become an interim Minister for Magic of sorts while the Ministry was rebuilt. They had won the war, but after that, the real work had to be done.

She had tried her best to move on from what she had seen and done during her time fighting for the Order. Especially the final days in which she had spent being held against her will by Draco Malfoy. And of course, what he had done to her in their concluding moments together.

Sure, she was glad he had spared her life – choosing to satisfy his dark urge for revenge and bloodlust in an alternative way, but she often had nightmares about that day in the woods and the feeling of helplessness as the blade tore her skin. She still wore his initials branded to her inner thigh.

Although the pain didn't exceed the Crucio of a wand, somehow it was worse. More personal. More animalistic. He had inflicted it with his own hands, kneeling before her in the forest. It took a stronger stomach to do something like that to a person than it did to hide behind a wand.

She often wondered how a man who could kiss her so tenderly and please her so thoroughly could do something so cruel. But one only had to look at the body count around Draco Malfoy to see that he was simply a bad sort. A dark man.

It was no good for her to wonder about his motives or what drove him to act as he did. He was a mystery that was best left alone – lest it consume her. He had taken enough from her already. She wasn't about to give him that kind of free rent in her mind.

"Hermione, think of the greater good," argued Kingsley, a guilty look on his face. Kingsley was the only one privy to what had gone on between she and Draco during their encounters at the Manor.

He knew exactly what Draco had done to her in the woods that day. He also knew she suffered from trauma related to it – although she was far too stubborn to let it hold her back in her work, or her personal life. If Draco Malfoy thought branding her like one brands cattle would somehow prevent other wizards from having her, he was sorely mistaken.

"Fuck the greater good," she yelled, slamming down her quill.

"Hermione. That's enough!" ordered Kingsley in a tone that was not to be questioned.

"I understand that I have asked more of you than you should have ever had to give. But this is our role in life. We chose this fight. We continue to choose this fight. Just because we won the war does not mean the fight is over. There are still those who seek to destroy all that we have worked for," he lectured.

Hermione crossed her arms and looked out of the window. She'd heard this particular lecture many times before.

"He's not to be trusted," she said, trying to take the venom out of her tone so Kingsley might take her more seriously.

"Of course, I know that!" said Kingsley, "But he has a set of skills we need and unparalleled knowledge of the Dark wizarding world. Plus, he has a strong incentive to work for us," he reasoned.

"And what might that be?" asked Hermione.

"Many of the Dark Wizards and Witches associated with these plots see Draco as a traitor for defecting at the end of the war. He is as much a target as we are. It is not in his interest to work against us, as he does not have much support left among his former supporters," said Kingsley, "and…" he added uneasily.

"And what?" snapped Hermione, glaring at the man.

"And you're the only one he will work with," he admitted.

Hermione let out a loud sigh.

"Of course, I am. Of-fucking-course," she snapped.

"Let me make a few things clear, before we undertake this work together," she said icily, gripping her wand tightly beneath her robe. He noticed that, of course.

"And what might they be Granger?" said his cold, calculating, but all too familiar tone.

"We are not here to relive the past. I won't discuss what happened at the Manor and I DEFINITELY won't be discussing the woods with you," she began.

"Okay," he said, shrugging.

"Additionally, you will not touch me and you will not threaten me. If you do… so help me, I will not hesitate to kill you where you stand. No one would have a hard time believing one of the Darkest Wizards of all time, who INEXPLICABLY is NOT in Azkaban, attacked me, causing me to act in my own defence," she threatened.

"One of the Darkest of all time? Granger, you flatter me," he said, grinning at her from his seat in her office. His flippant attitude would not unnerve her. She had spent years preparing herself mentally to face him again, knowing he would be back.

"Gods, I hope you die during this mission," she spat.

"The feeling is so very mutual, darling," he said, running his tongue along his teeth.

"You saved me," panted Draco, staring up at her incredulously.

"Well… we're working together and I…" said Hermione, trying to explain her actions. Truth was, she wasn't sure of them herself. She should have let the bastard die.

Draco scrambled to his feet and moved to pull the hood from the lifeless figure beside him. Hermione had shot a single curse into the man, ending his life in order to preserve Draco's.

She could have turned and ran the other way. Let him die for all he had subjected her to. But she didn't. Of course, she didn't. What she did was so much worse. She saved him, meaning he now owed her a life debt.

But there was no time to lament about that now, he needed to know who had made an attempt on his life so he could snuff out any of their little friends. This wasn't how it was supposed to go.

Draco's eyes bulged when he saw that it was Theo Nott, his childhood friend.

"He was your friend, wasn't he?" asked Hermione, standing at the other side of the body.

"As close to a friend as someone like me was permitted to have," he said, clearing his throat.

It wasn't that he was hurt. He was beyond really caring about anyone these days. He had long since turned that part of him off, only ever really having a weak spot for the witch beside him, and even then, it didn't stop him from making her suffer in the end. He was rotten, and he knew it.

Yet he was still disappointed that someone he had known his entire life would move to kill him in such a cowardly manner.

Theo should have at least faced him like a man.

"I'm sorry," said Hermione.

"Don't be," snapped Draco, stalking away from her. He wasn't sure why he was so angry at her for saving his life. For choosing with him over the assailant. For being there when he saw it was Theo. But he was.

"Granger, one of my contacts had a lead on…" began Draco, staring at the folder in front of him as he walked into her office. Without knocking.

"Malfoy! Get out!" she screeched, pulling down her skirt.

A man he recognised to work at the Ministry, now tomato red, was using the desk to obscure his naked lower half.

Draco simply stood there and observed the pair.

It hadn't occurred to him that she was seeing anyone. It was an uncomfortable development.

He assumed she must have, in all these years, but she was so devoted to their work he supposed she had no time for it. He hadn't factored in that she might mix business with pleasure.

"Didn't think you had it in you Granger, but I suggest a locking charm next time," said Draco, leaning against the doorframe and glaring at the wizard that had previously had his hands all over her. He had every intention of making it as uncomfortable as possible for both of them.

The man pulled up his trousers and immediately scuttled from the room without so much as a backward glance to Draco or Hermione. It was a common reaction where Draco was concerned. People generally didn't stick around after being on the receiving end of one of Malfoy's glares. They knew better.

His immunity deal had been… controversial to say the least. Furthermore, Draco had a hard time staying out of trouble after that.

People in his immediate orbit had a habit of… dying. Or disappearing.

Officially, he didn't know anything about anything. Unofficially, the dearly departed treacherous sods were scattered about the forests of Wiltshire, in pieces.

Despite the body count, he still he felt he had progressed, given he no longer killed innocent people based on their blood type or because they pissed him off in trivial ways. His killings were now generally related to self-defence, or retaliation for genuine slights against him.

For him, that was probably as good as it was going to get.

He knew of a muggle saying something along the lines of, 'leopards don't change their spots.' Draco felt an affinity to that because, in this case, he was the leopard. He could improve himself, but he would always have dark impulses. Especially to those who dared cross him.

Draco was dealing with attacks from all angles these days. He didn't regret his decision to quit a side he knew would lose, it beat life in Azkaban. But it invited a host of new problems and treacherous characters in his life. After all, that's how he had wound up working with her.

He was now so loathed by the dark wizarding community he had been reduced to actually having to work with the Ministry.

The thought would have disgusted him so much that he would have fought alone, if not for the fact that working with the Ministry afforded him the opportunity to be close to her again.

"No, no, no, no, no!" She screamed, kicking and slamming her hands onto the heavy door of the records room.

The Ministry had gone into lockdown due to a security breach and now she was trapped in a small, dimly lit space with a man who had literally tortured her. And she wasn't sure where he was.

To make matters worse, only a few self-defence charms would work in the records area - the Ministry's attempt at making sure people didn't magically alter the archives.

It was too dark to really see much. The lights had gone when the alarms sounded.

"I don't think hitting it is going to do much," a smooth voice said, mere inches from her ear. Hermione jumped.

Images of the forest flooded her mind, but rather than running from him, she drew her wand. There were a couple of spells she knew would work in there that she could use to wipe the smirk off his face.

Draco felt the point of her wand in his rib cage. He wasn't permitted a wand in the Ministry given his past, but he wasn't intimidated by her. There was always physical force.

"If you make one wrong move in here, I will slit you from navel to nose," she threatened.

"I'm not threatening you Hermione," he said evenly, though he didn't move from his uncomfortably close position.

"Why should I believe you, after what you did?" She hissed.

"Because what I did made us even," he said casually. "Even?" asked Hermione. She hardly thought the punishment fit the crime. She stole a book. She didn't fucking torture him.

"Yes. You stole from me and you humiliated me. I was punished quite severely by the Dark Lord for that, you know… I wanted to kill you for what you did. Anyone else and I would have. But you made me weak, witch. Instead, I could only punish you. Humiliate you, and leave you with your own scars," he said, as if it were the most logical thing in the world.

"That's sick," she whispered, her eyes finally adjusting to the dimly lit surrounds. She could now make out some of the features of his handsome face.

"I never claimed to be otherwise," he said, shrugging.

"So, in your mind... we're even... and therefore... you won't hurt me?" She asked. "Correct," he said truthfully. He still had violent impulses of course, just not toward her.

Draco took an experimental step in her direction. Hermione didn't back away, but kept her wand aimed at him. He was now well and truly in her personal space.

"Tell me about that wizard in your office," said Draco conversationally, deciding to press her for answers while she couldn't escape.

"None of your business," she responded abruptly.

"Humour me... we may be in here for a while," he reasoned. Hermione exhaled loudly.

"He's just a wizard I shag casually," she replied. She had no idea why she always felt compelled to answer him honestly.

"Is that what you do now? Shag a bunch of wizards casually," he asked snippily.

"Why not? If you thought for one bloody second your disgusting marking on my thigh would prevent me from doing what I want with my body - you'd be sorely mistaken," she responded contemptuously.

"And what do they think of it? These men?" Asked Draco, both irritated and curious.

"About the abomination on my thigh? Use your head Draco. I'm not known for my lack of intellect. I use a series of glamour charms to cover it... and some Muggle makeup for good measure," said Hermione bitterly, sliding down the wall to sit.

"Why not me then?" He asked.

"What?" She assked, now sitting against the wall with her legs straight in front of her. It had been three hours by her watch, and they'd been silent, sitting side by side, for the last fifty minutes or so.

"If you're shagging all of these wizards. Why not me? You know I can please you..." he said smoothly.

"Because you kidnaped and tortured me," she spat, "it's unbelievable that you don't know that."

"There are plenty of spells in my library that would remove the scars," he said, "it's particularly easy if I perform them, as I gave it to you" he said, ignoring her previous statement.

"You would remove it?" Hermione asked, struggling to believe him.

"If it's what you really want," he said. She felt his warm arm shrug against her.

The truth was, Draco's anger towards her had subsided and he now felt something he could only, having never experienced himself it due to a lack of conscience, assume to be guilt. Or some version of it. His actions towards the witch had been...excessive. But he wasn't one to dwell on the past.

"I don't think I could ever forgive you," she breathed.

"I don't expect you to," he said evenly.

Never one to be deterred, and wanting to make use of their predicament, Draco continued to reason with the witch.

"Before I cut you, I couldn't stand what you'd done. I was obsessed with vengeance. That's just who I am – but now I don't care, because I got even with you. Why don't you just do whatever it is you need to do to get even with me, and then we can resume fucking," he said seductively.

"That's ridiculous," she said, taken aback.

"No, it's logical. And you're a logical witch," he pointed out, nudging her with his shoulder.

"What would you have me do?" She snorted, trying not to think about the tingling in the parts of her body that brushed against his.

"You could carve your initials into me if you wanted," he said as casually as offering her a stick of gum.

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," she exclaimed.

She felt Draco's hand snake down between her thighs, seeking out his marking. When he found it, he began to trace his fingers along the raised initials.

"A wise witch once told me that she didn't want to deny herself of the things she wanted…what changed?" he asked.

"What makes you so sure that you are a thing I want?" She asked, annoyed at his ability to get under her skin and aroused by his hand between her thighs.

Draco said nothing, he just slid a finger into her underwear and ran it along her wet folds. "I think it's clear what you want," he said smugly, leaning in to whisper in her ear.

"It's sick... it's wrong," she cried, trying to close her legs, but he wouldn't move his hand.

"So what if it is, if it's what you want?" He purred.

"But I shouldn't," she admitted breathily, feeling ashamed of being in this position with him yet again. They were like magnets. Ever since that mission, it was like he had implanted himself into her mind.

"Tell me... when other wizards fuck you, do you think of me?" He asked, biting her earlobe and allowing his fingers to creep towards her wet core again.

"Yes," she moaned as he entered her with a single digit. She wasn't sure how he did it. It was as though he drained her mind of anything but him, and she couldn't deny him.

"Good," he said, adding a second. "Because I think of you Hermione. I can't come with another witch unless I'm thinking about you," he purred.

"What about me?" She groaned, opening her thighs more. Why did she like this? Why did she like…him?

"The way your face looks when I come inside you. Those little noises you make. The way you look, all tied up and at my mercy," he said lustfully.

"You're bad for me," she reasoned, trying to close her thighs.

"No darling, I'm good for you," he said, forcing them apart again roughly. "I indulge the dark corners of your mind. I accept you for who you are," he said, adding a third digit and pushing further into her.

"Who am I?" She moaned, pressing herself against his hand.

"An infuriatingly good witch with darker tastes," he said. "Anyone else will make you put that side of you away. The side of you that likes a wizard like me. The witch that gets off on mind games and just the right amount of pain..." he said seductively, "but I won't. You can be both with me. You can have it all," he reasoned.

"Draco, I know who you are. What you've done…" she protested, still rocking against his hand. Her mind was still fighting, but her body had already lost.

"I behave myself now," he whispered, running his tongue over her pulse point. He was so seductive when he was like this. He somehow made the irrational, rational again.

"You'll never behave," she groaned, tightening around his fingers.

Draco let out a dark chuckle, withdrew his fingers, got to his knees in front of the witch and dragged her from the wall to lay on the floor.

Spreading her legs again he began to run his tongue along his initials on her inner thigh. Hermione let out a soft moan. It was so sensitive.

"I can behave," he said, letting his breath stimulate her womanhood, which was crying out for his tongue.

Hermione responded by writhing underneath him and moaning.

"I don't hurt people for fun anymore," he purred, rewarding her moan by wrapping his mouth around her sensitive bud.

"That's big of you," she moaned, arching her back and pressing herself into his waiting mouth.

"I thought so," he said, dipping his tongue into her, causing her to cry out his name.

Orchestrating the plot against the Ministry and several plots against himself, without detection, had been a challenge – but manageable for a man of his means and intellect, and worth it to get access to Hermione.

Plus, there had actually been some genuine plots against him, so inspiration for his plan had come rather easily.

Given the war was over, the likelihood that she would be delivered to his dungeons again was low – so he had to engineer his own luck.

Naturally, having to plot on a large scale meant he now had a substantive quantity of loose ends to tie. He would obviously have to hide that from Granger as his methods were… less than ethical.

Not that he gave a toss. He had Hermione right where he wanted her again, an outcome he would achieve by any means necessary.

Having Gryffindor's princess on her back again was the perfect reward.

Of course she knew. She wasn't called the brightest witch of the age for nothing.

Whilst some of the threats they had uncovered were legitimate, she detected his hand on many of them. His unhealthy obsession with her had quite obviously driven him to get creative.

Her only regret was that he hadn't done it sooner.

Of course, she couldn't have forgiven him. How could anyone forgive a person for what he subjected her to in the woods? It just didn't matter to her anymore.

Put simply, Hermione wanted the all-consuming lust and excitement only he could provide her with. She didn't want a boring life, loitering about the Ministry halls hoping that some tedious finance type might speak to her by the water cooler and gift her with a lacklustre shag.

She had given up more in that war than most, and she deserved to have what she desired. Even if it was unconventional. Even if it was Draco Malfoy, a violent mass murderer.

Hermione was drawn away from her thoughts at the sensation of Draco wincing underneath her.

"Could you hurry it up witch?" he spat, doing his best to take the pain in a dignified way that was befitting of a Malfoy.

"I don't think so darling. You didn't make it quick for me," Hermione replied with a cold innocence, curving the knife with a flourish on the 'G' of her initials.

"Fuck," breathed Draco, somewhat restrained as she gave him the matching brand to her own.

"We're even now," she smiled, pleased with her handiwork. "So we are," he agreed, sitting up to inspect his thigh.

"There are only two ways this ends, you know," he said seriously, reaching out to draw her closer.

"I am going to become more like you…or you are going to become more like me," he dangerously, studying her face for signs of a desire to escape from him.

"I know," she said darkly, wiping some blood away from his cuts, "I know."

Draco pulled Hermione forward, capturing her lips and gripping her waist tightly. From this position he could feel that she still had her wand strapped to her naked body and distorted from his view through a serious of complex charms.

Draco smirked into her mouth.

"I see you still don't trust me," he purred, lightly touching it as he pulled back to look at her in the eyes.

Hermione shrugged, slipping her hand behind his head to stroke the hair on the nape of his neck.

"Not one fucking bit," she said with a deliberately bright smile. She gripped him tightly by his throat and pulled him to her for another bruising kiss.

"Good," he growled into her mouth, biting down hard on her lower lip at the same time he thrust his throbbing manhood upwards into her waiting body. Hermione moaned as he filled her completely.

"Don't ever," he breathed.

FIN

Well that's all for that one folks. They live lustily and distrustfully, ever after.

Keep the reviews and suggestions coming.

Happy New Year!