At first she had sworn to herself it was her gaining weight. It had to be, the rate they fed her, always pumping it into her stomach. She must've been piling on the pounds, that was the only explanation…
But the proof was staring back at her in the mirror. A small, almost non-existent bulge between her hips, a small belly forming. It was fat, it had to be… there was no way….
She pressed one finger to it and shuddered, it was hard. "No," she breathed. "No no no no!" she said again, as if that would make it go away. Hermione dropped the gown over her stomach again, looking disdainfully at the small mound it created.
A knock at her door made her turn her head. "Miss Granger?" a drawl told her that Lucius Malfoy was in her presence. "Your audience has been requested downstairs."
She nodded, shakily, twisting her fingers together to still her shaking hands. "Y-yes, of course." She whispered, following the older man out of her bedroom.
The stone stairs no longer bothered her, Snape had seen that she had been going around barefoot and had transfigured slippers for her, instructing her never to walk around the house without them again. She had obeyed and now they constricted her feet as she walked into the open living room.
Snape stood tall and somber as Lucius withdrew. "Miss Granger," he said, bored. "The Dark Lord has desired you to see a healer. We have brought one here, understand that you are not to speak with him at all, under any circumstances." His tone grew dangerous. "Your medical history has been given to him and he will tell you what you must do. Do not say a word."
Hermione blinked at him. "Professor, something's wrong with me." She said, no fear in her voice. He raised an eyebrow.
"I've been thinking the same thing since I first saw you Miss Granger." He replied snidely, turning on his heal and opening another door to reveal a mousy man with big robes standing in the doorway. "She is not to speak to you, if she does, you will tell me or face the consequences." He murmured to the healer who nodded, gulping.
Luna's eye flitted open at the feel of Draco leaving from their bed. She sat up to watch him throw a shirt and a pair of trousers on, his back to her. "Where are you going?" she asked.
He turned to look at her briefly, appearing to be a bit cranky, but the sight of her proved too much to frown at and his expression went neutral, his eyes softening. "I felt my mark burn." He said simply. Luna bit her lip, knowing that he had been hoping to slip out quietly without her noticing.
"Does he want you?" she asked. Draco shrugged, straightening his shirt sleeves with a wistful glance in the mirror.
"Probably just a standard meeting, one never knows. I'll be back soon Lovegood, don't worry your loony little head about it." He said, leaning over the bed to bring a hand to her cheek.
"Oh I'm the crazy one still? I don't have a magic brand tattooed on my arm." She muttered. The subject was touchy for Draco but she knew he had no wish to start a tiff over something meant good naturedly and so he smirked, choosing not to reply.
"You'll always be a tad bit wacky for my taste." He murmured.
"Yet here we are." She said with a smile.
"Curious isn't it?" he said, cocking an eyebrow and kissing her forehead. "I'll be back, don't let Granger throw up on you." He called. "I still wonder why you choose to keep her company."
"She's my-,"
"Yes, yes, your apparently best mates. Don't come crying to me when you're dripping with sick." He replied and then he opened the door to their bedroom and was gone. Luna sighed, watching him leave and swung her feet over the bed, thinking a nice hot shower would be wonderful.
Draco's summons had come with directions, so he followed them, allowing his feet to take him to the study his father used to frequent before Lord Voldemort had taken over the house. Several wizards were lying about in the living room and they looked up at him with polite interest as he passed them. They had not merited a Mark; Draco doubted if they ever would.
He sneered at Greyback as he passed, smirking as he heard Fenrir snarl. There was little more to the werewolf's desire than to have a Dark Mark of his own, and the Dark Lord had quickly denied him that. He was a dog, his master had said and no matter how loyal the dog is, you can't give it a man's clothing.
Draco moved along, through the living room and down the maze of hallways until he reached the study. The doors were closed and he hesitated, a hand over the door.
"Enter," a reptilian voice said. Draco obeyed and came face to face with Voldemort, lounging in his father's chair, drinking wine.
"My Lord," the Malfoy said, bowing low.
"I was beginning to wonder if you'd lost your way Draco." the Dark Lord murmured.
"I-I was sleeping, my Lord." Draco said hesitantly.
"I see," his master said. "Tell me, how is your fiancé?" he asked cordially.
Draco stiffened. "Luna is well, much better than she's been." He sad carefully.
"You seem to be rather warming to the idea of having her for a wife. Do you care for the girl?" the Dark Lord asked.
"She is of impure blood!" the Malfoy parroted, falling back on twenty plus years of pure blood conditioning to give him a suitable answer.
Voldemort seemed irritated. "I know this, but you didn't answer my question." He said again.
"I would never care for someone with such a filthy bloodline." Draco replied, feeling the lie sting his stomach.
If the Dark Lord detected the lie, he didn't let on, but sipped his wine quietly, nodding. "Good, good." He said, snake-like voice making Draco cringe inwardly. "I have a proposition for you Draco."
"Your wish is my command." Malfoy said uneasily, shifting his weight.
The Dark Lord reached towards the side table positioned next to his chair, plucking a phial from it with his eerily long white fingers. The liquid inside shown with a purple tint to it, his red eyes inspecting the concoction. "How would you like to free yourself from your fiancé? To allow yourself to carry on the Malfoy line with honor?"
Though Draco would never admit it, he was scared. Voldemort's reptile face raked over Draco's pale features. When the boy didn't reply, the Dark Lord carried on.
"I need your help Draco, the girl is a fool, but she will listen to you." he picked up a phial and examined it. "Put this in her food. Help me so you can carry on the Malfoy line with honor. Free yourself from this terrible fate." his words were nothing more than hisses but Draco felt as though he was being shouted at.
"Will it kill her?" he said, pained.
Voldemort scoffed. "Hardly, I would've never given you that task, granted as you failed me the last time."
"Then what will happen?" Draco asked, curious.
"She will go into a coma. I need her for something." Malfoy's master said simply.
Terror and possessiveness flared in Draco's heart, recalling that the last girl the Dark Lord had needed had been returned bruised, bloody, and pregnant. No such fate would befall Luna. She was hisfool. No one else's.
The phial pressed itself into his hand. Voldemort smiled. "Go, Draco." he said faintly.
"Yes my Lord." he whispered, turning.
"Oh and one more thing." the Dark Lord said. "If you fail me, she will die."
Draco pressed his lips together and clenched his fist around the phial. Fury, this was what he felt.
Luna did nothing to deserve this. Granger, she knew what the dangers of war were. She knew of pain and the consequences of choosing Potter's side. Luna was merely thrown into the fray.
It was his job to defend her, but who had charged him with that duty?
Malfoy stopped at the door to his bedroom, staring at the knob. Hehad. He didn't know why Luna's safety mattered so much to him thought. She was… crazy, and full of spirit. His little fool, so alone in this big mansion. He looked at the phial, knowing that possible the only way to save her was to follow the Dark Lord's instructions. But what if Voldemort's plans for her were worse than death?
Luna looked up from brushing her hair to see Draco enter their bedroom, his face was troubled, despite the valiant effort he made to hide it. She put the brush down and stood, stretching a hand to him that he gratefully took. He drew her into his arms, both sets of pale eyes finding each other.
"You know I'll protect you, right?" he asked. Luna blinked.
"Of course, I trust you." she said truthfully. These words didn't ease the pained look at all and Draco's arms tightened around her.
"I wish you'd trust me a little less." He whispered. Luna watched him sigh, leaning towards her and pressing his lips to hers.
Overwhelming emotion took over her and it reminded Luna of when the necklace had been on her, the suffocating need for him. Draco tensed and pulled away abruptly, eyes wide as he looked at her. She felt water on her face and realized that she was crying.
"I'm sorry!" he said quickly. "I shouldn't have touched you."
Luna wiped her eyes, reaching for him with an element of desperation. "Don't push me away." She said. He raised an eyebrow but took her little white hands into his larger, yet equally pale ones.
"You are a fool, Luna Lovegood." He said lowly. "A fool indeed."
She smiled shakily. "Am I the fool? You risk everything by being this way with me, but you do not stop."
"You're mine, I do with you what I please. It's not the Slytherin way for other Wizards to go butting into my business." Draco said, raising a tentative hand to wipe her eyes. "And don't worry, I don't mind you being a fool."
"What a relief." She said, rolling her eyes.
There was pain in Draco's heart as he felt the phial burning his pocket. He brushed a strand of Luna's hair away from her eyes. "How can you do this to me?" he asked, brow furrowed. "Pain, so much pain you cause me. But I feel joy at the same time whenever I'm near you." His voice, much to his horror, grew choked. "You're going to kill me one day."
Luna's look grew from puzzled to stricken and he felt anger for upsetting her. Another little pearl of moisture escaped her eye and he again wiped it.
"Don't cry," he whispered. "Don't cry." But Luna felt more tears forming.
"I don't understand anything anymore." She said, frustrated. "I'm supposed to hate you, I should hate you-," Draco flinched at her tone. "But I don't. I pity you."
"I don't want your pity." He snapped, glaring at her.
"What do you want then?" she demanded, eyes narrowing.
It had been a while since Draco had asked himself that question and now he briefly pondered it. There was only one thing he felt was absolutely necessary to insure his sanity at this moment, and that was to make this idiot girl stop bloody crying.
"I want you." He said, not entirely sure that he had used his voice at all.
"What?" she asked, confused.
"I want you." He growled, grabbing her.
Luna's mouth dropped in shock. Draco loathed the slack jawed response she gave him so he took her face in his hands and rammed his lips into hers to wipe it off. The tears ceased, much to his satisfaction, as Luna grabbed his robes, pulling him closer, and he crushed her to him. Guilt suffocated him as the phial continued to sear his pocket.
He had betrayed her, and he knew it. This love, this affection she so freely gave him, he did not deserve it. Half of him wished she would find out and be angry, that she would hit him and shriek at him. Luna would hate him when she learned of his orders.
Draco squeezed his eyes shut tighter and grabbed her hand, applying pressure.
"I'm going to protect you." He promised.
"I believe you." She breathed.
Even if it's from myself, he added in his head as she leaned her head against his chest, her bright eyes fluttering closed and a sigh of contentment escaping her lips.