Welcome readers- old and new. I would like to thank everyone for their love and support after my return from hiatus. This chapter is dedicated to Fantomette34 because she is sweeter than white bread. Motivating reviews to get me through this dreary weather that I'm experiencing would be deeply enjoyed! (I'm probably going to end up doing something special for the 200th reviewer) xx
Disclaimer: JKR lives across the ocean. Currently I have an ocean coming from the sky.
The mark on his arm burned signalling the thing neither one of them were willing to say, it was time to meet Lord Voldemort.
Chapter 37-
The pair arrived at the front lawn of Malfoy manor, the crisp autumn air biting at their faces as they stepped inside the iron gate. The building seemed to dissolve into the night sky seamlessly. Not a single window was lit and the mansion appeared lifeless. Upon reaching the front door, it swung open on its own accord. The parlor had just a few candles lit, casting eerie shadows across the walls. The smell of furniture polish almost made Hermione vomit as the bad memories flooded her mind.
She thought of Snape and Draco standing toe-to-toe in the bedroom, their bottled aggression threatening to bubble over at any moment.
"She wears my collar."
"How could I forget?"
"You would do well not to."
She thought of Draco who gave up the night hours in order to save someone who he wouldn't even look at had they been at Hogwarts.
"I saved her bloody life! I've been trying to get that bloody chain off of her for weeks! You weren't there Granger. You didn't see the way that people were looking at her, like she was bloody dessert!"
She thought of the way Lucius Malfoy's eyes glinted as they danced together, the way that his smell burned at her nostrils, the way that his touch repulsed her.
"It is a pity, though, that you ended up with Severus. Not all of us can dump 1000 Galleons on a whore though."
She thought of Claire Turner who was top of her class and was supposed to go to Cambridge, yet her pretty face and a bottle of booze ended her up in a living nightmare.
She thought of Hannah Abbott whose eyes looked like lake water and whose words were always gentle. Hannah who went out into the snow to fetch some milk and wasn't seen again. Hannah who cried for a week their third year at Hogwarts because she had watched a baby bird break its wings. Hannah who lost her mother and within just a few months was lost herself.
She thought of the auction. The dozens of hands that prodded at her skin and then laughed in drunken amusement. She thought of the screams that filled the room every time Bellatrix lifted her wand. She thought of the pain. The agony. The feeling of a thousand suns bursting at every nerve ending.
She thought of the dungeons. The fingers that cupped her breasts and slid under her knickers. The knife that carved a language into her skin that she couldn't possibly comprehend.
"How much for this one?"
"I thought you were saving her for auction. How would Narcissa feel?"
"I suppose that is for the best. Prepare her for tonight. I want to hear her scream."
She thought of the bite of the whip… the whip… the whip…
"I believe I'm going to be ill, Professor," Hermione clung to his arm as they navigated the narrow hallways.
His face was unreadable, his lips a narrow line, "Don't."
Finally, they paused in front of a set of double doors. Snape raised his fist to knock, but before he made contact they swung open, revealing a long table crowded with all two familiar faces.
Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy sat at one end with the Lestranges seated next to them. Draco had been seated at the far end, his silver eyes focused on the polished shoe he was scuffing against the ground. Look at me Draco. Please.
Narcissa's eyes flickered from the door to the wallclock, her knuckles white as she gripped the edge of the table.
Two seats remained vacant, an ominous invitation to the table. Snape moved to his place next to Bellatrix. Her mouth twisted into a smirk and Hermione felt her stomach sink.
The same mouth that kissed him. The same mouth that trailed down his body. The same mouth that begged him to fuck her.
Turning away from her taunting gaze, Hermione moved towards the seat by Draco and-
She could only manage to let out the smallest of screams as an invisible force grabbed her around the waist and pulled her above the table, paralyzed.
"Hermione Granger… I have heard so much about you," The chilling voice sent goosebumps down her arms, "It took Severus long enough to release his pet."
A secondary door across the room had been opened. Voldemort made his way to his seat at the front of the table.
He studied her for a few moments in silence, wand raised and aimed at her, and then smirked ever so slightly, "And has the Mudblood forgotten how to speak?"
Snape just looked at Hermione with cruel indifference, "My apologies, My Lord. It seems that she has left her manners elsewhere."
The double doors swung open once again and a Death Eater burst through, his chest heaving with every breath, "My lord… I apologize… for my absence… I was… detained."
"Silence your blubbering, Rowle," Voldemort hissed, "And be seated before I make an example of you."
Rowle took the final seat by Draco, his cheeks flushed bright red.
"Now," Voldemort reverted his attention back to Hermione, "Let us take a look at the alleged brilliant mind of this Mudblood."
"C'mon Ronald," Hermione rolled her eyes in irritation as she leaned against the doorframe, "We can't be late."
"Do I need to remind you that the meeting is taking place in my kitchen 'Mione? It's not exactly a hike to get there," Ron padded around his bedroom, searching for any tee-shirt that didn't smell like he had practiced Quidditch in it, "Give me a minute to wake up… geez."
"You're intolerable," She huffed away to go meet the rest of the Order in the crowded kitchen.
Molly Weasley was the first face that she saw, bright red as she fretted about the kitchen, careful not to step on feet or bags. A tray of day old pastries floated in front of her as she complained under her breath about the short notice.
A pack of Order members huddled around an old poker table, nursing mugs of tea as they had been called to meet before dawn. Kingsley sat at the end of the table, surrounded by various maps decorated with colored pins. His rumbling voice broke the silence, "Harry Potter is going to be moved Wednesday night to a cottage in Blythe. He shall be protected by no fewer than twelve members, as well as sentries who will fly around their location. Potter must be protected at all costs. We will leave by broomstick as soon as the all clear has been given."
Kingsley's voice faded along with the false memory and the meeting room floated back into vision.
Voldemort's snake eyes gleamed in excitement, "It will happen Wednesday night. I will finally kill Harry Potter."
Draco waited at the end of the table for the room to clear out. Voldemort was the first to rise, followed by his parents. Lucius and the Dark Lord disappeared into the side room while Narcissa undoubtedly was going to bed with a migraine. Eventually, Snape scooped Hermione into his arms. After several minutes of having her mind explored by Voldemort, she had passed out cold. As the last guest left a house elf appeared to extinguish the fire, leaving Draco in the dark alone with his thoughts.
"Hannah is pregnant," the words tumbled out of Draco's mouth before he had the chance to weigh their meaning.
The color in Narcissa's face drained, "You mean the wench you decided to bed?"
Lucius's jaw twitched but said nothing, the steel in his eyes spoke loud enough.
Running his hands through his hair, Draco fumbled for the proper words to say, "It's not like it was exactly planned. But I figured everything out and-"
"I hope you have the means of disposing of it," Lucius interrupted, "You should know that with war coming we cannot afford any mishaps."
"But wasn't the Dark Lord expecting a child anyway? Maybe we could use this one instead because Aunt Bellatrix hasn't conceived yet."
"I have had enough of your childish antics Draco," His father's voice was firm, "You will deal with it."
How could he possibly deal with it? His steps echoed down the hallway as he headed back to his bedroom. He didn't have any options. He didn't want this. He didn't sign up for this. Hell, he was supposed to be returning to finish up his final year at Hogwarts. But of course, so was Hannah. Fuck. Nothing was fair. None of this was fair.
The door to his room was slightly ajar, perhaps caught by a draft when he had left. Hannah's collar didn't permit her to leave his room without permission.
"Hannah?" Pale slivers of moonlight gleamed through his velvety green drapes and onto the bed. The quilt was still drawn around her shoulders as he had left her.
"I'm going to need you to wake up dear," He spoke softly, afraid of startling her, "We have plenty to talk about."
Stepping lightly, Draco moved to the other side of the bed in order to shake her awake. His fingers met skin as cold as ice.
"Hannah?" Panic gripped his lungs as he rolled her over, only to meet the blank stare of vacant blue eyes.
Well. I apologize for the way that I ended this chapter. (That's a lie, I'm really not that sorry) If you want to make a playlist recommendation, you can do so with a review (: (are my hints strong enough) My song selection for this chapter is "Scars" by James Bay.
Question: What's your favorite fried food?
Quote: "It is a curious thing, the death of a loved one. We all know that our time in this world is limited, and that eventually all of us will end up underneath some sheet, never to wake up. And yet it is always a surprise when it happens to someone we know. It is like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair than there is. Your foot falls down, through the air, and there is a sickly moment of dark surprise as you try and readjust the way you thought of things." ~Lemony Snicket