Forgive me for the delay in posting! One more chapter after this. Please enjoy!
Chapter 13: He had it coming
The early morning hours had dawned on the beautiful Wizarding World. Hermione had slept rather well at the Potter's. Of course, she had fallen asleep thinking about Draco. His last words to her were a promise to talk about what she had said to him. The intensity in his gaze, the unwavering certainty in his eyes had made her shiver in fear and anticipation. Draco kept his emotions tightly guarded and locked deep inside. So deep, she wondered if he even knew his own emotions anymore. Had Voldemort and his family burnt him so badly that he had nothing left to give? No love? No feeling left?
She had reflected on this last night under the dimming firelight, curled up on the couch, eyes watching the fire slowly burn itself out. Draco had that burning edge to him, she felt it whenever he kissed her, touched her. He was and always had been a passionate man. Passion and violence went hand in hand in the dark wizarding world. Anything beyond that, such as compassion or love, didn't. Draco had never gotten the permission to trust his feelings. His world had never been hospitable to the idea of anything beyond what they wanted from him. Such as obeying his family's will, the Deatheaters, and even being representative of a true-born Slytherin. Resistance, fear, or doubt were not welcomed. This made her understand and forgive him.
How could Draco trust himself with her so soon? Sure, they had been through a lot, yet they were in opposite worlds their entire lives.
Maybe loving her was a door he had never thought possible. And when she presented it to him, he froze. She couldn't blame him.
It helped too seeing the vast differences between Ron and Draco last night.
Ron warned her to not pursue Casanova, while Draco, though reluctant in his expression, agreed with her. Draco had confidence in her. While Ron's fear clouded everything. Ron never supported her unless it supported his own cause. Some of their worst fights came from his lack of belief and support in her.
Draco, on the other hand, had defended her against such fear just last night. Granted, she never needed a defender or protector. Hermione also knew the risks of going after Casanova. She was smart enough to deduce that on her own. She didn't need permission from any man, lover, or friend to decide for herself. Yet… it felt good to have Draco there. Validating and trusting her completely to choose what she wanted to do with her life, even if it may frighten or frustrate him, which from the severity in his gaze last night, it did. He didn't like the idea of her calling out Casanova. She understood this as well, Draco was not ready for anything else to happen to her. He was protective of her.
She had crushed the pillow against her, feeling more stupidly in love than ever before. Hermione realized then that she was more worried about her conversation with Draco, then facing Casanova.
She sighed heavily, listening to the morning birds chirp awake, as she took a quick swig of her tea and swallowed her dry toast.
She wondered what he would say… Would he have the courage to finally say what she felt whenever he held her? What his eyes said when he couldn't? She couldn't blame him for his reluctance. Hermione had always been the type of person to display her emotions, especially if she felt strongly for someone. And oh, how she did for him. If she were truly honest with herself, she had loved him since that stolen, secret night under the moonlight.
Hermione knew she couldn't dwell on this now. Work had to be done. Casanova would be caught; she was confident of this. She directed herself firmly to let go of her anxiety and dread over their conversation and the possibility that Draco was not ready to admit his feelings. And maybe, she thought darkly, he never would be, not with me at least.
Hermione heard Ginny's footsteps from behind her in the Potter kitchen. Ginny was dressed in her Quidditch practice outfit, looking tired. Hermione handed her a piece of toast and tea. Ginny took it gratefully.
The plan was to have Ginny take Hermione to her meeting with the Daily Prophet reporter at Draco's club. Thaddeus and Draco would receive her, and Ginny would go to Quidditch practice for the rest of the morning. They would meet in the evening back at Potter's house for an update on how everything went. Harry had sent an owl to Draco once it was a decent enough hour this morning, updating him with their plans. Harry had left shortly afterwards to the Daily Prophet to meet with his inside contact to arrange for one of their reporters to do the story.
After a few minutes of drinking their tea and taking bites of their breakfast, Ginny looked at her from across the kitchen, her gaze focused and unblinking.
"Are you sure you wanna do this?" Ginny asked quietly, though she did not have any doubt or fear in her eyes when she asked.
Hermione merely nodded.
"Good," Ginny replied. "Fuck this creep. Time to turn the tables on him and us ladies go after him now."
"Us ladies?" Hermione asked with a teasing smile.
Ginny straightened definitely, "The prat stole my best friend and meant to murder her. Yeah, I'm just as involved in this fight as you, Hermione. He deserves whatever he's got coming."
Hermione grinned at this.
"Let's get going," Ginny said. "They should be waiting for you by now."
Hermione adjusted her dark green peacoat when they landed in the alley next to Draco's club. Ginny let out a low whistle at the sight of the nightclub. "Looks cool."
"It actually really is," Hermione told her as they approached.
The black building seemed less menacing in the morning sunlight. She noticed then that it had windows on either side of the building, which were now opened to the cool, damp air. The front door was propped open and Thaddeus appeared at the doorway. It reminded her of a quaint pub, like the hundreds that lined the streets of London. Thaddeus noticed them approach, nodded warmly at Hermione and when his eyes landed on Ginny, he broke into the first grin she had ever seen from this usually stoic, unnervingly large man.
"Ginny Potter?" Thaddeus said striding forward, his hand out. "I'm a huge fan."
"This is Thaddeus," Hermione explained to Ginny, who was smiling too now.
"Good to meet you," she replied, and they shook hands.
"Your last match—you played brilliantly, I must say." Thaddeus said, shaking her hand enthusiastically.
"Thank you!" Ginny always treated her fans well. Hermione could tell she was thoroughly enjoying this.
"Your new coach…" Thaddeus shook his head in instant disgust. "The man has no courage on or off the pitch. He doesn't trust his good players with the ball often enough. Relying too heavily on you seekers. He's a bloody crap coach."
Ginny snorted, "Couldn't have said it better myself. Speaking of crappy coaches, I gotta fly. That crap coach has us practicing non-stop. Believing that will suddenly make us better under his instructions."
Thaddeus smiled warmly at her, "A pleasure, Mrs. Potter. Truly."
Ginny gave Hermione a quick hug, whispered a good luck, and disappeared.
"Perfect timing, the Daily Prophet reporter just arrived as well." Thaddeus told her as they entered the bar. Thaddeus had lit a few candles, lighting this normally gloomy, dark place up and giving it a life, she hadn't expected from it. It almost felt comfortable inside the nightclub. Hermione noted the frumpy wizard sitting at the bar, sipping on a cup of tea, his notepad and pen beside him.
"Mr. Crane," Thaddeus said, "Your subject has arrived."
Mr. Crane, the reporter at the bar, fumbled slightly with his tea, hastily cleaning off his chin and pushing thick, black-rimmed glasses back up his nose. Hermione noted that the reporter was young and handsome. He had sandy brown blondish hair with familiar dark eyes.
Something stirred in the pit of her stomach, but before she had time to place it, Mr. Crane stood. He was tall and lean, though his clothes were a rumbled mess, his posture was solid and radiated natural strength. Maybe she had possibly seen him before, she had met countless reporters, Hermione thought, as she politely extended her hand to the reporter.
He smiled awkwardly and accepted her hand. It was then she realized that his outward appearance didn't match the man himself. There was true strength in his grip.
"Good morning, Miss Granger." He said sheepishly, trying to avoid her gaze, "It's an honor to finally meet you."
She smiled oddly at this strange wizard. "Thanks for helping us out today, Mr. Crane. I appreciate you taking the time out of your schedule to do this."
"Of course, anything I can do to help." Mr. Crane said, his dark gaze catching hers. The odd familiarity pulled at her once more.
"Tea, Miss Granger?" Thaddeus asked.
Hermione yanked her eyes away from the reporter and back to Thaddeus. He was already pouring her a cup from behind the bar. "Yes, that'll be lovely, thank you. And call me Hermione, please."
He nodded, "Malfoy should be arriving any minute," Thaddeus informed her, handing her a fresh, steaming cup. He motioned to Mr. Crane if he wanted some tea. He shook his head and politely declined.
Thaddeus sat down the kettle beneath the bar top counter and took a sip from his cup. Hermione realized then that Thaddeus had spent the last day or so with Cordelia, she desperately wanted to know how she was doing.
"How's Cordelia doing?" She asked him.
Thaddeus sighed heavily, his light features turning grave at the mere mention of her name. "Traumatized. But strong. She'll be all right. Only time and support can heal those wounds…"
Hermione felt her chest tightened and she gripped the hot cup in her hands, anger stirring once more inside her. Anger at the man that hurt Cordelia and the others. Hermione could live with her experience. Cordelia may struggle the rest of her life.
"I'll be returning to the hospital later today to visit with her." Thaddeus said. "She doesn't have much wizarding family. A few friends…" He hesitated, "She needs to feel protected right now."
Hermione nodded in agreement, "I'm glad you are there for her, Thaddeus. I'm sure she feels safer with you visiting."
He flushed a slight red and dropped his gaze into his teacup, taking another sip. She could understand the wizard's choice on protecting Cordelia. Afterall, he was the one who rescued her from Casanova's dungeon. Yet there seemed to be something there… she wondered how much Thaddeus felt it was his duty to protect, or his desire to personally keep her safe from another attack from Casanova.
"Is this Cordelia part of the story?" Mr. Crane asked curiously, pushing his heavily rimmed glasses back up his nose.
"Forgive me," Hermione said. "I'm jumping ahead in the story. Yes, she is very much a part of this too. I guess I shall start at the beginning…"
Hermione's words paused on her lips as the sound of a cup clattering hard into the bar top made her jump. She saw just in time for Thaddeus to sway on his feet. Sweat began to form at his temple, his eyes were wide with what appeared to be confusion as he gripped the edge of the bar.
"Thaddeus? Are you all right…?" Hermione stood, realizing suddenly that something was wrong. Fear gripped her stomach.
Thaddeus stared dully at his teacup and with a clumsy finger pushed the cup over and unexpectedly he slumped and collapsed to the floor.
"Thaddeus!"
Hermione sprang to her feet and raced around the bar to the wizard passed out on the floor.
He was unconscious, but alive. She touched his temple. It was hot and his pulse was racing. Hermione felt her stomach tighten and adrenaline flood her body. Before she could understand or process what was happening, she heard a sound of a click and looked up.
Mr. Crane stood above her, a gun in his hand. She swallowed the fear in her throat and watched as the reporter lazily pulled off the glasses on his face and tossed it unceremoniously onto the counter. A slow smile pulled at his lips. Hermione's heart fluttered painfully in her chest as she finally recognized him. Casanova.
Hermione's pulse thundered in her ears as he waved her to her feet with a threatening tilt of the gun in his hand. She had seen enough Muggle movies with her parents to recognize a gun when she saw it. Guns were not common in the wizarding world. Wizards and witches didn't need tools or instruments of violence such as that—they had their wands.
Her hand instinctively went to her pocket and she bit back a curse, her wand was missing. As if he could read her mind, he smirked, pulling the wand out of his coat pocket, and waved it at her.
"You must be more careful, my love." He drawled out. "Always seem to be losing your wand whenever your around me."
She straightened, jaw gritting with fury now. He had once more caught her off guard. It would be the last time, she thought fiercely. "What did you do to Thaddeus?"
Casanova glanced indifferently at Thaddeus and shrugged casually, "A heavy-duty narcotic that would knock out a whale if given the right amount." He pulled off the oversized grey coat and tossed it too on the counter with his fake glasses. He wore all black, his sandy blond hair curled around his neck, his dark eyes intent on violence. This man was attractive and young, he could probably woe any woman he wanted. Yet he chose to murder them instead. Disgust filled her, along with more rage. Her hands shook and she gripped them tight against her body.
"I wasn't measuring the amount when I spiked his tea. Too much will certainly kill him. But he's no longer your concern, my love."
"Stop it." She snapped.
His eyebrow arched at this, "Stop what?"
"I am not your love. And I'm not yours. I'll never be yours. This is your delusion, keep me out of it."
He chuckled, his eyes dancing with a chilling thrill. "That's my girl, defiant as always." He waved his gun once more, "Come here, love."
Hermione stood rooted to the spot besides Thaddeus, "You won't shoot me."
He shrugged, "You don't actually know that do you?" His smile faded slightly, "Don't make me drag you out by your hair, Hermione."
Inhaling deeply, calming her quickly beating heart, she slowly walked towards him from behind the bar.
"I've been watching you the past few days now…" He tisked disapprovingly under his breath. "Naughty girl, playing in the mud with the pigs. A traitor to your kind and yet you gave him the pleasure of your body?"
Hermione's breath caught in her throat, yet she would not allow her fear to take over her. Not now. She had to think. She had to fight back somehow. Her fingers trailed over the counter beneath the bar top and she felt the handle of the hot teapot.
"You should be more careful, love. You can learn a lot about someone's life the more they become complacent about the dangers around them. You of all people should be more careful. The famous Hermione Granger, leaving her curtains open, while she fucked Draco Malfoy? What would the Wizarding World say if they knew of your traitorous act?"
Hermione wouldn't listen. She focused on the handle of the pot in her hand and stepped out from behind the counter, angling her body so he couldn't see her completely.
"You were so special." He said, "Don't you see that, Hermione? You were the best. You were my best, and you ruined yourself with that creature…!"
She swung the glass teapot, pivoting on her front foot and using all the strength in her body. The teapot shattered and spilled steaming hot water all over Casanova's head and face. He let out a roar, and she flung herself forward, crashing herself into him. They fell backwards, landing hard onto a table, and rolling off, hitting the ground in a heap of hot water, limbs, and broken glass. She felt a sting in her shoulder but ignored it. Hermione eyed the doorway of the club and attempted to get to her feet, knowing she was safer outside. Just as her legs began to flood with blood and energy, he slid on his side and knocked her hard on the back of the leg with his boot. Her knee gave out and she tumbled back to the ground.
Casanova rolled onto his belly, grabbed her ankle, and hauled her back to him. She kicked out unseeingly and struck something, which made him moan furiously from his throat. With incredible strength, he flipped her onto her back with a mere toss and slammed her hips hard into the ground, followed by a vicelike arm pinning her down. His eyes flashed hungrily and violently down at her, blood trickled from his ear and his lips. The deep gash on his face from the hot water seemed to sizzle and the red mark under his chin, told her that her kick had struck his jaw.
He turned his head and spat out the blood trickling from his mouth. She fought against his hold, he merely gripped her tighter, pushing her painfully into the floor. He slid a quick hand into his pocket and withdrew the blade she recognized from when he held her captive before. She stilled as the cool, curved steel slid across her stomach, inching into her side. She held her breath. He pushed just enough to feel the tip dig into her side, slice through her shirt and pierce the flesh beneath. She let out a soft, muffled cry, refusing to scream, refusing to let the pain of this experience show on her face. He wanted her to suffer. To cry out, to scream for him. She wouldn't.
He leaned forward over her, his hot breath on the side of her face as he slowly inched the knife through her skin. "You belong to me. I didn't want to hurt you, Hermione. You gave me no choice. This is your fault…"
She swallowed the burning pain flowing through her body. Her foot kicked out helplessly.
"Don't fight this. Imagine that you are slipping into a warm bath, my love." The knife slid deeper into her side, pushing the blade up to the hilt.
Her leg stopped kicking and her muscles tensed. Tears creased the corner of her eyes. The urge to fight vanished and all she could think about was her next breath, the pain, being trapped and pinned down… of wanting to live… tears now raced down her face. She didn't want to die. Not yet.
Draco…
She realized then that she regretted nothing. That was she glad she told him the truth. Her heart clenched painfully, worse than the blade inside her. Her love and longing for Draco filling her up. If she were to die, it would be with love in her heart—not pain. She let out a soft cry.
"That's it…" he whispered softly, kissing gently the side of her face. "Just relax, my love. Don't fight this…"
A sudden brilliant white flash of light filled the space, and her body felt the weight of Casanova fling from her. The sounds of a loud crash followed. Hermione blinked past her tears and heard footsteps and then…
Draco was over her, his eyes and face filled with a fear she had never seen before.
"Hermione…" he whispered hoarsely.
"Draco…" she barely breathed out, the sudden pain of the blade in her side felt unbearable now. He glanced down and cursed viciously. With quick action Draco held his wand over her side and let the healing power flow from him and into her. A warmth surged from her body and a sudden strength as well, as she reached for the hilt of the blade.
Draco looked at her warningly, but she knew what she needed. Hermione withdrew the blade and let out a scream. Draco's face faltered yet the magic didn't as he continued to heal her. He instantly drew her into his arms, wrapping her close to him. Hermione wrapped her arms heavily around him, burying her face into his neck, inhaling his scent, and feeling herself fill once more with strength, with love.
"Bloody'ell Hermione…" Draco whispered. "I'm never letting you go…"
She shivered at his words.
"I love you," he breathed. "I've always loved you." He trembled in her arms and she let out a gasping breath, tears flowing forth once more but not in pain, but of shear joy.
He pulled back to look at her, their eyes locked and held. Her heart hammered wildly. She was about to return the sentiment when the sounds of chairs moving alerted her. Draco hadn't finished healing her, but that didn't mean she wasn't still in this fight. Carefully and quickly, he got her to her feet. She winced in pain as she gingerly touched the side of her stomach. The wound wasn't fully healed and stung.
She glanced over to Casanova, who was pulling himself to his feet, kicking over a table in his way. Draco held her close, holding her protectively against him, his wand out and pointed at the killer.
Casanova weakly turned his body, his back against the wall and his eyes on them now. A sinister fury crossed his features. Blood covered half his face and his body looked battered from being flung across the room.
"Hermione Granger belongs to me, Malfoy. You have no right to touch her…" Casanova breathed angrily.
Draco said nothing to this, merely shaking his head. "She told me you were mad."
"She is mine." He hissed. "I am her only love."
Draco cocked an unimpressed eyebrow at this, "You show your love by trying to kill her?"
"She has to die. Just like all the others. They lied and they didn't love me the way I knew they could. Hermione…" he said shaking his head and looking remorsefully at her, "We could've been perfect for each other. If you'd only given this a chance…"
"You hurt innocent women and murdered to get close to me. You're a coward." Hermione retorted.
"I'll never stop loving you… or the others…" He smiled darkly at Draco then. "Did she tell you about our night together, Draco?"
Hermione felt Draco tense against her.
"Did she? My sweet, soft, Hermione… her skin felt so good against mine. Her lips…" he hummed. "Delicious."
Draco's wand straightened and aimed right for Casanova's heart now. Hermione gripped Draco tightly.
Casanova seemed to bask in Draco's rage, grinning insanely now. "I kissed all of my girls. My lovers. And they enjoyed themselves… and who wouldn't? I am the Great Casanova…!"
Another brilliant light illuminated the club but this time from a different direction. Hermione watched as Casanova dropped like dead weight against the wall and slumped down, his eyes vacant and distant. His smile gone, replaced with death.
Hermione turned to the bar where Thaddeus stood, clutching the edge of the counter, barely holding himself up.
He looked at Draco and Hermione, not an ounce of remorse in his tense face that was beaded with sweat. "He had it coming…" was all Thaddeus said before dropping once more behind the counter.
Hermione tried to go to him but let out a hiss of pain. Draco cursed and grabbed a chair, forcing her to sit down. "Stay, damnit. No more moving until we heal that wound. I'll check on Thaddeus."
"Casanova drugged him with something," she informed him. "He'll need to go to the hospital."
"All right, then you first, I'll come back for Thaddeus." Draco pulled her back into his arms, about to take her to the hospital, when she reached out and held his face in her palms.
Draco stilled, his eyes fluttering to hers.
"I need to say something…" she said.
He sighed, "It can wait, love. Your wound can't."
"No," she protested once more. "Please, Draco…"
He nodded, taking one of the hands from his face and turning the palm into his lips.
She smiled weakly, feeling herself warm at the sight of him caring for her and kissing her. "I just wanted to say—I love you too."
A playful, genuine smile cracked at the corner of his lips as his eyebrow arched mischievously up at her. "That's it then? I can take you to the hospital now?"
She sighed, rolling her eyes upwards. "You are impossible."
He placed a hard, meaningful kiss onto her lips. It sizzled with the fire she had always felt from him, but now it seemed to burn with more—so much more. A love. A deep, filling love. Relief pooled from her and she clutched him close.
TBC