A/N: First off, I would like to thank everyone who left a review, favorite and followed. It means lot especially with the positive and constructive reviews that continue to encourage me. ^_^
Secondly, maybe some of you have notice (how can you not?) I been having some issues with some of the "guests" on here. I know my story is not perfect. Frankly, it probably as too many grammar mistake to keep count (that I am WELL of aware & it's b/c I really suck at grammar T_T) BUT still thank you for keeping with this story and frankly, putting up with me.
Thirdly, for the "guest" I'm not cocky. I never claimed for my story to be the best or ah-mazing. So there isn't ANY reason for me "to get over myself." I don't think my writing jumps around or makes no sense (although Dramione is nowhere near canon or remotely realistic, I do research on spells and events and people in the HPFF world). I think YOU are rather bitter and I don't apologize for what I said. I think you got offended by what I put so you are biting back naturally. I would LOVE to have a real conversion with you, but you are not only behind a computer, but also anonymous for reason I think we BOTH KNOW why. And your criticism is not criticism at all. THIS IS WHAT CRITICISM LOOKS LIKE: "I'm such a death eater when it comes to grammar and there were lots of things I guess spell check missed in the beginning chapters and it made me skeptical about how good the writing was going to be…but I'm so glad I continued reading…" FROM NAT. I took the criticism of my horrible spelling and grammar skills (have tried to improve, but haven't improve greatly =( …)and responded nicely. You on the other hand are a bitter person who like to whine a lot about stories not going your way. Oops sorry I couldn't make everyone happy including yourself and honestly, I don't give a s***t that I can't you happy. If this story REALLY adds to your misery, I am glad I could add to it. =D
P.S.- O.O I know I'm not nice sometimes. BUT not everyone is not as peachy as they seems =)
There were Deatheaters taking every seat of the dining table. Lucius was in the center, Narcissa to the right of him and the Lestrange brothers to the left. Other Deatheaters were packed in other seats or against the wall. Many of them wore the black cloaks proudly, some showing their face, others covering their identities with the shadowy hoods and few had an half skull mask, looking deadly.
She felt Draco's slightly warm hand, interlacing his fingers with her. Ignoring everyone's piercing stare, he looked forward, leading the way to their seats beside his mother. Draco held the chair open for her and she took a seat next to Narcissa and Draco sat next to her and besides Blaise. Hermione try to catch Blaise's eye, but he refuse to look at her like Narcissa.
"Got yourself a mudblood pet?" Rabastan Lestrange growled at Draco.
With murmur in the background, Draco replied firmly, "She's my fiancée." Draco protectively put an arm around Hermione, pulling her close.
Lucius cleared his throat and silence fell over the room. "We are here today to discuss this." He pointed at her Hermione as her eyes widened with fear. "She is a mudblood, dirty, filth, yet…" His voice was calm, but chilling, "my son is persistent to marry her. At first, I thought just like you, wanted to exterminate the thing on the spot."
Hermione flinched at his choice of words as if she was a pest.
"She might be useful." His lips curled into a side as he cocked his head, staring at her. "She is the brightest witch of our age. And she is also friends with those at the Ministry and not to mention…with the boy who lived…twice."
"She hasn't spoken to Potter," Draco cut in.
"Let the girl speak for herself!"
Hermione bottom lip began trembling as she found her voice weak and almost stuck in her throat. "I…I—um I don't speak to the Potters or the Weasleys. And my friends at the Ministry were all from the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. They will be no use to you."
"She lies," he hissed like a snake, sending her into violent shivers. He reminded her so much of Voldemort.
"Look at her work record then," Draco snapped.
"And where is Reeves?"
This is going to be one hell of a gamble, but she was going to tell the truth. To get in. To gain a tad bit of trust.
Her voice was crisp and firm, each word coming out sounding more and more assertive, "America. He's there trying to rally some resistance to help here."
Lucius must have been satisfied with her answer, seeing more truth to it. He leaned back in his chair, stroking his chin. "And what do you think of this?"
Her eyes met the cold, dull gray ones of Lucuis. "It's not going to work. America may be free of prejudices, but they have been very independent and isolated. They didn't get involved in the first or second wizarding wars even if they were completely aware of it. They definitely won't interfere now. But just in case, maybe you should some over there to suppress him. I studied a bit on wizarding communities in America so I can pin point likely places where he might be."
He nodded thoughtfully in silence, his eyes still boring into his. "You are one smart girl with good advice…Ms. Granger. It is such a cruel circumstance that your blood is dirty and to get married to the last Malfoy. A shame, really. You'll be ruining our blood line. And you're children would be of a nasty sort of hybrid." He now looked at his son, carefully. "I doubt you can be a good father to such filth."
Anger shot through Hermione's veins, sending impulsivity roaring through her body. She shot up out of her chair, and startled everyone including Lucuis.
"Don't you dare talk about what a good father he can be!" She was going to say Malfoy, but 'he' came out instead quickly. "Draco," she continued carefully, awkwardly rolling his name off her tongue, "will be a good father! Not much I can say about you though. Leaving your son for DEAD!"
Narcissa perked up at this, her breathing ragged, imploring Lucius to see if this was true.
She slammed both of her fist on the table, sending a quake. "Draco! WOULD NEVER EVER DO SUCH A CRUEL THING! HE IS NOTHING LIKE YOU. HE IS A BETTER MAN AND STILL GETTING BETTER AND I CAN PROMISE YOU WHEN WE HAVE CHILDREN HE WILL BE THE BEST DAD TO EVER WALK THIS FUCKING EARTH!" she bellowed every word, sending trembles.
Her voice plummeted low and scarily calm. "Draco may be marrying a mudblood, but this does not define who he is. This Deatheater shit does not define who he is and you fucking won't either! He is a good man and he will be a good father BECAUSE WE LOVE EACH OTHER!" And she stared at Draco. "And I'm always here for him despite everything else. Despite the past, despite the prejudice, he always has someone… Me." She and Draco were an intense stare, unwilling to peel their eyes away.
Her heart was thumping. She hoped Draco got her message loud and clear. That she was not so cruel to abandon him even if he insulted her all the time, or the dislike between them was so clear. She was trying to extend her hand to him as a friend.
The sounds of his heart was so loud, he swore everyone could hear it. Hell, maybe even people in London could hear it. The way she stood up for him, especially when he knew she disliked him greatly. He admired her for it. He appreciated her for it. The realization that Hermione was always trying to extend her help and comfort and support to him just hit him. The flashbacks exploding in his mind, she always seemed to be there, offering a friendship.
She finally realized everyone else was around and took her seat quickly.
The door burst open and Evelyn pranced in, her hips swaying dramatically. "Is she going to get branded?" she purred, but her eyes her wild.
Now it was Draco's turn to act rash. He seized Hermione's forearm, wrapping his fingers around it, shielding it. "She will not be getting marked."
Lucius jumped to his feet, snatching Hermione's forearm, causing Hermione to lose reach of her wand. Draco stumbled back into Blaise. Lucius pointed the tip of his wand at her forearm, whispering words quickly under his breath. Something was burning into her skin, sizzling and faint steam coming from her forearm. She struggled to get away from his grasp and stretching her arm out for her wand. But the familiar man, Farrow, pocketed it and pushed Draco into the wall.
"HEY!" shouted Blaise, going after him, but he kicked to the floor roughly by another.
Hermione was now screaming in pain, loud as sniggering could be heard beneath her cries. She was losing air, the pain so unbearable. The flashback of being torture by Bellatrix burned in her mind as a waterfall ran down her cheeks and she could taste the saltiness of the tears. She would have sworn she heard Bellatrix laughed. "NO!" cried Hermione. "NO! PLEASE!" begging Bellatrix, but in her blurry vision, the figure resembled too much of Evelyn. She was slamming her palms on the table on repeat, jumping up and down, laughing much like that dreadful woman with the same wild look that could not be tamed.
"Brand the bitch! Brand, brandy, brand, brand!" she laughed madly.
"Stop it!" she clearly heard Draco's call, pleading.
The pain stopped and she felt herself falling and falling until she reached the ground with a thud. Then she felt herself beginning sweeping into someone's arm, being cradled, protected, and shielded. She looked up to see the face, in the blurriness, he had dark features, beautiful dark brown eyes, perfectly tanned skin and dark brown hair. She lazily looked up in another direction at another figure, noticing his build, it was Draco. He was pointing his wand at his father again. The outline of him started to grow fuzzier and fuzzier and dimmer and dimmer and then just like that, everything went black.
"Draco, please tell me what she said wasn't true!" begged Narcissa.
"It is," he whispered quietly. He couldn't face his mother, couldn't look her in the eyes.
He heard a sob coming from her mouth. He inched closer to her on the couch in the living room, wrapping his arm around her. "How could he!" she cried. "I know he doesn't want you to marry a…her, but to take out his anger like that and leave you there!" She unburied her face and looked up at her son. "Let me see."
"Mother please."
"LET ME SEE!"
He heaved a sigh and stood onto his feet, taking off his clothing to reveal his chest. His mother started examining him, only seeing a very faint pink of where the gashes were once. "She…did well."
Rolling his eyes, Draco snapped, "Of course she did! What did you think?"
"I…don't know. Darling… I'm sorry about her."
He gave a hallow chuckle. "Don't be it isn't your fault. It was going to happen anyway."
"But it shouldn't have been like that…" whispered Narcissa.
"Regardless, it is what it is. Nothing I could do now, but let me go tend to her." He turned his back on her while putting his shirt back on when he heard his mother whisper.
"Draco, that girl…she might…you might…nevermind."
He turned slightly to his mother, cocking an eyebrow. "Might be what?"
"Nothing. She just might bring out the best… In you." With a lower whisper, so low Draco could not hear as he walked away, "And perhaps in all of us."
On the last step of the flight of stairs of his corridor, he heard a loud yell, "LET ME IN!"
"NO!" squeaked another voice. He rushed to find Evelyn pointing her wand at Cherry who blocked the closed door to his room. "I will not let you hurt the Missez!" As Cherry shook her head violently, he ears flapped, almost hitting her own face.
"How dare you defy a witch, you little insufferable—" Evelyn was cut off by Draco's hand tightening around her jaw, slamming her head into the wall with all his strength. She slid down onto the floor, with a glare so devilish.
"Ms. Tiberius," he growled. "You do not speak to my elf like that."
"Oh, now I'm Ms. Tiberius, huh?" She seductively crawled like a lioness. Her hand cupped his crotch and he smacked her so hard, her head flew left. She was now heavily breathing, whispering horrifyingly calm, "What is wrong with you?" Her eyes lifted up. "You don't even love her."
Draco stood silent for too long unable to answer her truthfully and then quickly lied, "I do."
She hoisted herself on her feet, caressing his jawline with her long finger nail. "You see. Mustn't believe Draco Malfoy. He could never ever fall in love." She stepped back, flinging her head back and opening up her arms and laughed sinisterly. "He won't love you, girly! No he won't!" She batted her eyelashes, swaying her hips, now with a grim face. "Hope the bitch dies one day soon. I'll be back for you, Draco." She leaned in for a kiss and he dodged it.
He grabbed her by the throat, his grip tightening around her. "You do anything to harm her, indirectly or directly, I will fucking kill you Evelyn. Stay away from her and me." He shoved her back and she stumbled, but regained her footing and her ego, leaving with hips rocking.
Once he was completely sure she left, he looked down at Cherry. "Cherry, thank you." Cherry's mouth fell a bit open, but recovered herself by dipping in a low bow. "I'm—er sorry she spoke to you like that. Just please guard this room. If anyone other than me tries to come in, send for me."
Cherry nodded slightly in shock. "Yes, Young Master Malfoy."
"Excuse me."
He entered his bedroom, his eyes unwavering from Hermione who lied peacefully on his bed. He took a seat on the chair by the bed. The minute he looked at her arm, he buried his face in his hand. The whimper was light, but the second he heard it his head shot up. She was stirring then her eyes fluttered open to show the beautiful brown orbs.
"Granger," he breathed.
She hummed as she stretched slightly, whispering, "What happened?"
"You pasted out."
Remembering, she hastily sat up and looked at her forearm. And there it was no longer a blur, clear than it had ever been before. It was so strange. Something she never really saw before. "No," she whispered. Her fingers outlined the shape of the tattoo. The realization of what it was dawning on her quickly.
"I'm—" But the word could not form. He couldn't say sorry. He never knew how to. But he was. He didn't want it this to happen.
"Is…this what you meant by…" her voice faded out, still unable to fully comprehend that this just happened.
"It's official," he muttered.
She stared at the tattoo, unable to believe she has been branded.