"I-" Hermione licked parched lips and swallowed down the hyperventilation threatening to wheeze out of her.
"Are you going to kill me, Hermione?" His voice was smooth, interested, but otherwise unaffected.
That wasn't right. She was the one with the wand, the power.
She straightened her shoulders. "I can. I should."
A shake of his damp curls, a huff of amusement. "You won't, even if you could, my little lioness."
Though she colored with humiliation there was no sense in prevaricating. "But I am going to stun you."
He threw his head back, roaring out his amusement. When he leveled his eyes back at her, they still glimmered. "You'd be better off killing me, love. You know I won't let you go."
Her nails dug more deeply into her palm and she wondered that there was no blood dripping yet. "You won't have a choice."
"While I live, you are mine. And I do not relinquish what is mine, Hermione. If you leave me, I will hunt you down. I will not let you go."
"I know," she croaked. "But I will never stop running."
They were so still that she could hear the echoing spill of a drop of water that fell to make ripples in the bath. He'd once told her he needed a wand to read her mind, but Hermione felt transparent before the steel of his pale gaze. She knew she needed to act; why, then, could her limbs not move against him?
"Who gave you the wand?"
Her eyes narrowed.
"Was it the Malfoy boy?"
She snorted.
They lapsed into silence again, Antonin drumming a forefinger on the porcelain as he thought.
"Hm. Severus, then. He'd have the opportunity, but what of the motive?" He raised a brow at her, reading what he could in her flushed cheeks and fluttering lashes. "Well, I suppose he still isn't over his dead mudblood, whatever the Dark Lord might think."
"Do not use that word."
"Or what? You'll hex me?" His lips quirked. "Put your wand down, love." Antonin's expression softened to sorrowful affection she knew too well and he tried for reassurance.. "I knew you'd make a serious attempt eventually. I'm not angry, not even disappointed."
She shook her head. "No. No, this is happening, Antonin. You're not winning."
"My sweet girl, you need me."
"No!"
"You do. You'll need me more in the months to come." Antonin's voice had fallen low, a tender whisper across her flesh. "I'm only trying to take care of you, my love."
Why was this so hard? Why had she still not said the word? "Don't call me that."
"But I do love you, Hermione. I want to spend my life with you, have a family with you-"
"Stop it! Shut up, shut up, shut up. " Her wand hand was shaking with lactic acid build up, but she did not lower it, couldn't yet. "I hate you. I will never be your wife. I will never be yours. I hate you ."
Her resolve hardened, nostrils flared, and Antonin's pupils widened to engulf the silver of his eyes. At her last growled words he flung himself forward and decided her timing for her.
" Stupefy! " The spell shot from her wand with months of pent emotion feeding into it. It barrelled into his wide chest, red as blood, red as the Cruciatus , and he flew into the wall behind him with a sickening crunch, drywall cracking around him. "Fuck!"
Had she killed him? Hermione darted to his side, his thorny wand clattering to the floor in her wake, and checked his pulse. Her shoulders slumped with relief. There was a little bleeding, but Topsy would soon see to that. She needed to get out before the elf realized anything was amiss.
Hermione rose, dusting her hands on her skirt though her wand was still sturdy in her palm. " Incarcerous. " Bonds whipped around him and she stepped deftly over a towel across the floor. The first chime of the hour zinged across her nerves and Hermione stumbled out the door in her haste.
An ally was supposed to come and help her. Her eyes darted blindly across the room and she crossed to leave Dolohov's chamber, slamming doors behind her on her way to the drawing room.
As she caught herself on her chair, breaths puffing out of her mouth, the fire flashed green and black boots filled her vision. Darkness threatened to swallow her as she lifted her torso upright, and Hermione wondered if she was hallucinating.
"You, you're…?" Hermione laid a stabilizing hand on the arm of her chair. "Why're you here?"
Lucius Malfoy lifted a haughty brow. "Severus sent me. Did you dispose of Dolohov?"
She shook the dark blossoms from her vision. "Sorry, what?" As the man's jaw tightened, the words started coming faster. "Yes. Yes, he's- you're the ally?"
"Indeed. Come; we'll be needing your skills." He held out a gloved hand. "Only those with a Dark Mark can initiate Floo travel from here, Miss Granger. Do hurry." The leather creaked against her skin as she took it in one shaky hand, something like shock creeping through the trellis of her ribs as he tugged her toward him. His wand had been tucked away in a blink and he flung a fist of powder into the flames. "Malfoy Manor master sitting room. He shoved at her shoulders so she barely caught herself before the world swam out of sight.
A vice gripped her forearm as Hermione stumbled out of the Floo and she wrenched back weakly.
"Granger. Granger, it's okay. It's me." She blinked up at Draco Malfoy, who was leading her toward a little settee to the side.
She blinked into his concerned features. "Draco? Are you a part of all this, then?"
He laughed and sat beside her. "Yes, though I hadn't a choice either way, really. Father told me only last night."
Lucius stepped into the room before he could say more, eyes sweeping the surroundings before landing on the pair. He nodded to himself and shook his wrist further from his robe sleeves and twisted his wand tip into his own flesh, murmuring a long stream of Latin she could only catch the barest rhythm of. He then began weaving a series of warding spells over the fireplace.
"I said, 'Are you alright, Granger?'" She turned back to the younger Malfoy ( I suppose I should call him Draco now, if I am to deal with his family more often) and noted the deep concern bluing his eyes.
"The Killing Curse is quite exhausting the first few times one casts it," the elder Malfoy drawled as he fell into a wingback chair adjacent to the settee. "I expect Miss Granger will need rest before we start getting patients."
She perked up, looking between the two of them. "What's happening now?"
"A battle, Miss Granger. What else."
"Where?" Hermione stood, wand at the ready.
"Sit down, girl. You will be staying here for the duration." When she hesitated he raised thar haughty brow again. "I have it on good authority that you are competent enough as a field medic. Draco has studied a bit of healing as well. The two of you are best kept here to attend the wounded; I will be fetching them myself as only Malfoy blood can cross the perimeter on its own."
She frowned. "I'm a good fighter," Hermione insisted.
Deft eyes flicked up and down her form. "You're still shaking, girl. Be reasonable and sit . This is not a debate. Your presence will only distract our side."
Her wand bobbed unconsciously and she bit her lip, then finally nodded and sat back on the couch. "Will it- will it be long?"
"It's battle. It could be moments or days. Enjoy the silence while it lasts." He went back to rubbing his temples and staring into the fire.
Hermione pulled her knees under her dress and against her chest, huddling around herself for warmth. She hadn't put her shoes or stockings back on, hadn't grabbed a cloak, nothing, and it was December and cold even inside, the marble floor practically ice underfoot.
She flinched when a sherpa blanket settled over her, then unfurled beneath it and smiled faintly at Draco. "Thank you."
"You have a wand of your own, you know," he reminded gently.
She'd forgotten. Hermione opened her hand, stiff from her grip, to stare at the length of wood. "It's been so long. I'm almost surprised my magic still works."
Draco chuckled. "The day you can't cast a spell is the day magic itself has failed."
That was the kindest thing he'd ever said to her, perhaps one of the kindest ever said in her whole life. Hermione opened her mouth to reply but a sleek tabby padded through the wall and twirled around Lucius Malfoy, and her old head of house's voice filled the air.
"Two at spot five; two at spot five. "
Mr. Malfoy rose and neatened his robes, staring at the pair. "Do not leave the room before I return."
"Yes, father."
Hermione nodded under the narrowed gaze and that seemed to be enough as Lucius Malfoy strode from the room and left the two former rivals alone.
A/N:
Yes, I will be posting every day until the end. I'm working on updates for my other fics as well, and will hopefully be starting the sequel soon.
