"Thank you my reviewers! Thank you so much for reading.
Rated M. I own nothing.
OoOoOo
Hermione Granger had witnessed many things by her tender age. Many of them were ideal, her memories of warmth, love, comfort, and learning. Some had been strange and filled with wonder, such as was the case with her accidental magic. Her time at Hogwarts could only have been classified as a marvelous world of infinite possibility.
Until now.
Her warm brown eyes looked over the span of what had once been her source of great pleasure. The gold hoop burned the soft flesh of the valley between her breasts. Tears, gathered in her eyes, soft and quiet. She was the only one left to mourn now, she believed. Cold and lifeless limbs lay strewn in various places, the horrified faces of many known to her and some strangers stared back at her. Their dead eyes accused her for having the audacity to live when all else had been obliterated.
She looked upward to see only monsters. Demons, her mother would have called them, winged-beasts so hideous it made her want to cry out in terror. The smell of death, the scent that was repulsive by itself was magnified by the heavy tang of copper in the air. The blood of her fellow students was everywhere she looked. Hermione was unable to escape the stain of crimson that blanketed the grounds.
The winds howled, but the rain from before had ceased. Sorcery, the likes of which she had never even read about was evident in the sky. Dark clouds seemed to impose their will, an immovable wall of darkness, broken only by the flashing of lightening and the damning crackles of thunder. Hermione had seen many storms in her lifetime, but none of them had looked like this.
Winged beings, horrors from nightmares slowly moved closer from the distance. The snarls of werewolves, and other beasts rendered the air with equal magnitude to the storm raging above them.
'They never stood a chance,' she thought with deep sorrow. How could they possibly have lived? The answer was cruel and unforgiving before her sight. They did not live. They had been hacked apart. Her shocked gaze traveled to others whom had been torn limb from limb,- her stomach clenched violently at the realization that some had been... eaten.
The golden hoop burned again, and her thoughts became muddled. She could see the devastation and death all around her, but the horror, fear, and sickness at the sight passed quickly. Claws ran gently through her hair, the looming figure of the Prince of Fomorians towered over her. A sinister and delight-laced smirk adorning his flawless features. His magic was overwhelming even in the presence of countless monsters.
Monsters whose attention was focused solely on Malfoy, and their gazes did linger on her for a few moments. Menace, fury, unbridled evil, and wicked excitement was painted on every terrifying face. Was it curiosity in their hard, flat, stares? Was it disgust? Hermione inched closer toward the presence of the Malfoy, who had claimed he would keep her safe.
She had to trust him
No, she blinked twice as the world came in and out of focus, she did trust Draco. She was his bride.
Something inside her twisted painfully at the thought, but the sensation disappeared as quickly as it had come.
Misshapen creatures, with only one eye or limb started forward. Hermione drew back, swallowing the scream that built in her throat with the bile that rose from her stomach. The very air around them was sickening, the stench of disease clung to them like too much perfume. The mocking jeers, so similar to her dream echoed all around her. They were laughing, merry, and care-free as they picked over the corpses of children and adults alike.
The beasts up in the sky circled around. Her hands twitched as she ached to draw her wand, only to realize she had given it willingly to her future husband. She was defenseless, but Draco was here. He would keep her safe, because she belonged to him. He would never allow someone else to have her. Harpy-like creatures from myth descended before her and Malfoy. Their wings, almost hawk-like, where were arms should have been. A long tail, a cross between a lion's and a bird's trailed behind as they walked toward Draco. Their twisted clawed feet piercing the ground, and internally she flinched thinking of what those talons had done to the several of the dead. How they must have sliced through the flesh like a hot knife through butter. The scales were jagged and pointed looking, matching the rest of creature perfectly.
"We've gotten them all," the sharp and angular features, peppered with spindles that resembled porcupine quills and feathers twisted into a sinister smile. Eyes too wide to be human, turned toward her with a predatory stare.
"Acceptable work Daphne," Draco murmured, with his
Hermione started, this creature was Daphne? She looked at the jagged feathers, and sharp spines that protruded from the head. She could not imagine the cascading Chestnut strands of hair that should have been growing from atop her scalp. The wide and unyielding eyes were not the same. However, the devious smile was eerily similar to Greengrass.
Could it really be her?
She felt the caress across her cheek, her body felt heavy and not her own. She knew deep in her bones she should be outraged, terrified, and experiencing a depth of remorse only known in Grecian legends. Yet, Hermione could stir up nothing except the traitorous sensation of pleasure at the touch. His touch.
"Thank you," Daphne warbled, her voice was... throaty but high akin to the lyrical notes of avian singing.
"And the Blood traitors?" He asked, and it startled her just how deep his tone was. The intent behind the question was clear. There would be no mercy, she understood instinctually, not from him.
The sound of malicious hoots, half-shouts of excitement frightened her to the core.
"They are on their way, Sire," Daphne replied in a way that Hermione could only discern as spine-chilling.
Draco chuckled, caressing the nape of Hermione's neck and she shuddered. Rapture and euphoria tinted the edges of her thoughts. His wicked and inhuman eyes watched her in cold delight. His unearthly face loomed toward hers, his lips nearly brushing hers and Hermione felt the pang of bitter disappointment when he pulled back slowly, instead of laying claim to her again. Some small part of her whispered that something was off, that this was only making it worse and that she was not safe here with him.
But that was utter nonsense. She would always be safe with Draco, but she must never ever leave him.
Her limpid brown eyes focuses back at the sight of monsters drawing toward them. Shouts and cries of anguish, prodded some part of her mind that seemed to far away to reach. Masses of twisted flesh, boney protrusions, wild eyes, and strange bodies await her timid stare. There was a time in her Gryffindor pride where she would have charged head-long into the fray. However, she dared not even take a step away from Draco. The world was nearly burning down around her, bathed in blood and death. The calamity and carnage on a scale she had not imagined would happen outside of the war.
She had anticipated war by other wizards, spells, and hard times. She had even attempted to steel herself against the deaths that were certain to result. But this... this was far beyond the childish imaginings of someone who had never even seen a battle.
This was not a battle, or a war, this had been nothing short of slaughter.
Was she the only non-pureblood left? What had happened to the others? Where they all here? Were they dead or alone? Where was-?
The traitors were coming. She held nothing but disgust for them. They had betrayed Draco and their people. She was to marry Draco, and therefore his interests were her own. Loyalty was a common trait in her house, not as strong as Hufflepuff, but it was common. Hermione had never grasped why so many people teased the Hufflepuff students. Wasn't loyalty and hard work something everyone wanted in a person?
The weight of hands around her waist drew her attention. Draco traced a path up her sides and down her thigh, however, he kept his gaze locked firmly on the tortured creatures being marched toward them. Antlers, wings, fins, scales, feathers, fur, and every other combination and color imaginable flashed before her gaze. It had been true, what Draco had said, because Draco would never lie to her. The purebloods were... they were... magic creatures. Legend, myths, folklores, and any other type of story she had ever heard.
Hermione had never seen even half of these monsters in books.
One set of eyes, gentle and achingly familiar locked with hers. She was walking before she understood what was happening. The golden fur, turning brown, and antlers. A keening cry of despair, echoed between the pair. Though she could not place who it was by the look alone, some part of her simply knew that she knew this person. They were a traitor, and Hermione could not abide traitors. Yet, some part of her stubbornly insisted that this wasn't very wrong. Something was horribly wrong-
She should not have ventured away from Draco, these were dangerous creatures.
"Her...mione" A soft hiss of her name had an ache blossoming in her chest.
"R-ron?" She inquired gently, her arm outstretched in supplication so as not to startle him. Those guarding them parted for her, but they looked to Draco for permission first. He must have given it, for she reached Ron's side without incident.
The head drooped. Her tearful brown eyes gazed upon the boy she had pinned after for years. He had the head of a wildcat, but the body was that of a deer, and his hind legs were that of an Ox. She gasped to herself, and gently reached out to stroke his antlers. Ron's forearms were that of a lion, and he seemed to have a tail to match.
"It's alright," she soothed, not truly believing what she said for even an instant. "It's quite alright."
Sad eyes reflected her own, and she knew that he did not believe her either. A soft sob escaped her, because she understood what was about to happen. What she could never hope to change. The golden hoop burned her skin and she clenched her jaw in discomfort.
"He's a bit of a mess, isn't he?" Draco's husky drawl whipped across her skin like a greedy flame. She could feel his presence drawing closer. Her sorrow was replaced with a growing sensation of desperate yearning. She needed him. She longed for him.
"Leave her... alone," the growling low tones of Ron, combined with his sudden movement caused Hermione to tremble.
"Leave her alone? She is my bride." Draco replied with such fervent force, that those creature that followed him stepped back. The air around them seemed to crackle with magic. Wild and unsuppressed, stripping Hermione of the will to move, let alone fight.
Ron snarled, a show of bravado that was easy to see he could not physically defend.
"Are you challenging me, Calygreyhound?" Sinister eyes speared the wounded creature that was Ron. Hermione trembled, her mind too fogged with whispered thoughts and suggestions. They were wholly wrong and wicked, yet she could not stop the onslaught of tangible feeling that battered her mind. She stared at each of the monsters, no people, in turn. She had studied with them, laughed and cried with them. They were her friends, acquaintances, her lov-
What was going on? She looked around, the strong need to protect boiling inside her. Moisture gathered in the corners of her eyes. She sought Draco's handsome face. The deadly glint in his inhuman eyes reflected back at her. Evil intent was clear in his face. Instantly she understood what danger lay behind that sinful face.
"Please," Hermione begged with crystalline tears falling. "Don't hurt them."
Draco's unnatural amber-goat eyes turned toward her. "As much as I enjoy you begging, bride, this is neither the time nor place."
"I will kill you, you bastard. Don't touch her." The wildcat head of Ron roared harshly, causing Hermione to cringe at the volume.
Seductive lips parted into a leering smile. "I will do far more than touch her Weasel."
Hermione shivered at the words. The equal parts of desire and repulsion warred within her.
"You bloody-" Ron moved to lunge, his strong hind legs pushing him forward at a nearly break-neck pace. He never finished his words.
"No!" She shouted a warning, but it was too late.
Ron moved, his antlers lowered to charge or possibly rend, however his target side-stepped much too quickly for him to compensate. He rammed into a stone wall, causing it to shake upon impact. Ron shook his head, and attempted to turn. It was the last thing he ever did. Draco came behind him and grabbed Ron by the scruff of his neck. Her view was blocked, but the sickening snapping of bone told her all she needed to know as Ron's lifeless, and previously unknown, form collapsed in a unless heap upon the ground.
The world shrank and then exploded back into her vision.
"RON!" She screeched in agony. Arms grabbed her tight. Hermione fought wildly, her screams echoing across the grounds, mirroring the last screams of anguish from the dead. The other monsters laughed, and cruelly made jokes at her expense. She could not hear them. She whirled, ready to strike the person keeping her from Ron, when she realized she was with someone she considered a friend.
Golden light, kind if not crazy eyes, and long blonde hair. Her body was covered in a gown that looked as if it were living plants. Flowers of various shades and shapes were arranged in her hair. The aura of power exuding from her was nearly tangible.
"Luna?" Hermione sobbed openly, as she stepped backward, unable to understand why Luna did not look much different from before.
"Don't fret Hermione," Luna's unearthly face shined brightly. "The nargles have whispered to me," she confided conspiratorially. "All will be as it should."
"But Luna," she interjected with desperation.
"Congratulations on your impending union," The starry gaze focused on her once more. "May it forever be a blessed one." Her gown, cloaked with the growing plants from the still stained earth turned from green to red. It painted Luna, with her delicate features and nearly blinding beauty akin the sacrificial lamb. The flowers, magically twined in her hair as if she grew them so perfectly, began to shed petals as Luna touched Hermione's hand gently. A fissure of magic, soft and so full of life that it nearly took Hermione's breath away pushed into her skin.
The deadly aura around them lessened subtly in the wake of Luna's words and magic.
"How kind of you," Draco stated with dangerous amusement, "to bless our marriage. I had not expected that." He growled gutturally.
Luna turned a close-eyed smile toward the danger of Malfoy. His sharp teeth glowed in the flashes of light from an angry sky overhead. The wind whipped at Hermione's skin cruelly, biting into tender flesh. The cold nipped at her in all directions, like a greedy animal wishing to divest her of her flesh.
A slash of movement caught her eye, and Hermione could only puzzle at the speed. Her confusion was cut short by the blood that splattered across her face. Her horrified brown eyes had only a moment to stare uncomprehendingly before the weight of reality sunk in. Luna's nearly divine glow was fading quickly and her chest held a wound, spilling forth her life essence rapidly. Draco, his two sets of horns glinted in their elegant way. Slick blood dripped from his fingers, his claws bathed in the sticky substance. In his hand, pulsing weakly was...
...Oh dear Merlin...
It was her heart.
Luna's heart.
"Tuatha de danann," He spat, his flawless features like a parceling mask were twisted in animal like carnage. The look of madness in his unnatural eyes disturbed Hermione so greatly, that stumbled backwards and fell. She watched, unable to intervene as he crushed the organ in his grasp. The sound of the squishing blood, caused a dull ache in her stomach.
The others, whose faces she could not place with those she had known, trembled and Hermione openly stared at the monster she was to marry.
As if he could sense her thoughts, he turned toward her. The jangles, bits, and trinkets moved like a wind chime in the face of the storm that still caused howling winds to blow. Her skin prickled violently, as his strikingly handsome face loomed near her.
"Don't look so sad bride," he smirked with a husky tone to his words. "consider this a wedding present. Now your mind and time can be devoted solely to me."
