A man and woman lie side by side, naked as the day.
It had been six years since he'd snatched her from the jaws of death. Six long years since he'd crept through the murk of night into The Dark Lord's study-cum-torture chamber: she hadn't expected him at all. She'd thought him dead, and he would never forget the look of shocked relief that had flooded her face when she saw him again. They had all thought him gone, but he had proven otherwise when he marched gallantly forward and lifted her bound hands from the hook they'd hung her on like a piece of meat.
The Dark Lord had been gleeful when the snatchers carried her into the Malfoy manor, which he had claimed as his own. He'd rescued her, hidden her from the war and kept her unhurt while her friends died one by one. When Voldemort finally fell and took Harry Potter with him, HE had walked into the ministry with her, and they'd given their statements together. After two years, she'd finally trusted him. Of course, she'd been wary- his sudden appearance to save her was too good to be true. "What if this is all in my head?" she'd mused aloud more than once. "Voldemort could do that, couldn't he?" it would have been strange if she didn't worry and when she'd asked that, he'd nodded because he had to be truthful but had assured her that their life together was real.
At first, they lived together out of convenience and then out of need, she needed him desperately, and he needed her to need him. The war had broken her, the weeks of torture in his home had destroyed her… she was so frail, and she needed him to hold her together, and he was only happy to oblige. What started as short hugs turned to quick kisses, which led to eventual nakedness and tenderness, which led to love. Which is where we find them, six years since he saved her, in a companionship nobody had ever thought possible: Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy lie side by side, naked as the day.
"are you alright?" he says. He knows it is the day of remembrance, a day she finds difficult.
"I miss my friends." She sobs into his bare chest, and he soothes her with slow circles on her back.
"I know." His friends were monsters. She does not permit him to miss them.
"I… I want to go back." Hermione says after a long, thoughtful pause, it is something they have discussed. Something he has brought up repeatedly, he tells her it will be healing to visit Hermione's old home, where she and Potter and Weasley had spent the best years of their short lives, fighting the longest war, the Order's headquarters. She is 28 and has never returned, not in the six years since he saved her. "I think you're right." She finally concedes, not something she's prone to. "I think It'll give me closure." She has night terrors and panic attacks. She's paranoid and nervous. He's willing to try anything. Her constant fretting has started to grate on him.
"let's go." He sits up, pulling her with him.
"you want to go now?" she chews at her lip.
"I know you'll spend the day going back and forth, I think we should go while the mood is taking you, no?" he's pulling his jeans on as he speaks, trying not to seem too eager. It's been so long. He gently tosses her a sweater.
"you're right."
"Twice in one day." He smiles at her "wow."
"I love you, babe." She smiles sweetly at her white knight.
"I love you too." He hates 'babe' but never tells her.
It takes them minutes to dress and bundle out of their small cottage. She'd picked it, they could have had anything, but she'd picked the smallest house. He hates it. She grabs him around the waist, and they spin to a point only she knows. They are in a wooded clearing with no distinct landmarks.
"Over here." She waves to him; she seems more assertive than usual as she trudges over the green meadow in the direction of nothing distinct. The faint remnants of an ancient stone circle, perhaps. She reaches out a finger and swishes it back and forth, she whispers words, Latin words, he doesn't speak Latin "Te futueo et caballum tuum" she whispers it three times and a cottage much like the one they currently reside in, springs into view. The man suddenly understands her better. He takes note of the words then casts a discreet plotting charm. He smiles as the numbers appear before him. He's never tried this spell before in a fabricated memory. He's glad it works.
"you coming babe?" she beams as she pushes the door to her former home, the hideaway of the Order of The Phoenix, ready to put her ghosts to bed.
"no babe." He spits the words. He has what he needs, now is his time to relish in his glory and end this tedious charade.
"What?" she looks confused. Bless her. She should look confused. He begins to laugh, a manic laugh not fitting of Draco Malfoy's face or demeanour.
"no." her eyes grow wide, realisation splitting her usually calm features. "NO." She screams again.
"Yes." Voldemort's voice is a hiss of pleasure as it finally reveals itself to Hermione. Draco's nose disappears, his eyes become snake-like slits, he points his wand at her, and her world is black.
"Wake up Hermione Granger." She heard the voice through a haze of sleep, "Open your eyes and see what you have wrought Mudblood", he shrieked. Her arms ached as she struggled to breathe. Her eyes snapped open "NO!" She screamed as she took in her surroundings, Hanging in Voldemort's Study still only 22."No!" she repeated the word as though it was her mantra, "none of it was real?" she breathed, her eyes so wide he worried momentarily that they would fall from her head.
He glided towards her, forcing Hermione to glance up at her bound and throbbing hands with terror as he moved closer still. She scratched frantically at the thin scar on her finger, a nervous habit he witnessed countless times during their long life together. He laughed a cruel laugh; He feasts on discomfort .
"none of it was real Hermione, I must say you took longer than most." He smiled a lipless smile and breathed, observing her evident sorrow "Little Hermione Granger, the loneliest girl at Hogwarts harbouring sweet little feelings for her enemy Draco. She carried her sweet little secrets all the way to his grave, you had to hide your pain, didn't you?" he picked up a lock of her hair and twisted it gently. She nodded through wrecking tears.
"When I read you, it wasn't as compelling as I'd hoped … I'll admit that. Actually, you're rather pedestrian, aren't you?" He grabbed her face turning her to look straight at him "boring little Hermione got a lot more credit than she deserved, didn't she?" The girl hanging from the hook wailed, a man in a white mask entered with a note, and the Lord of Darkness scanned it before turning back to Hermione.
"My men have taken Nagini to the Order's location, very shortly they will bring me Potter and kill the rest." He stated his voice like ice. She scratched her finger again.
"No, please don't, don't kill my friends sir!" she sobbed, though to his surprise, she was grinning. A feral grin full of teeth and danger.
"Have I broken you Hermione?" he looked her over. It had happened before. The ones he played with before destroying them, some of them hadn't faired as well as others. His lipless mouth quirked as he wondered whether the girl could be bent a little further. She could perhaps fill the space Bella had left when the Order snatched her. "Have I cracked that underwhelming little brain?"
"Ha." Hermione's toes grazed playfully on the stone floor below her. She raised her knee and placed the flat of her foot against the inner thigh of her other leg, flicked her body and executed an almost perfect pirouette. "Not even close ' babe'" the words slithered out of her like bile, and Voldemort suddenly felt very unsettled indeed.
"I'm bored of this" he raised his wand and pointed it at her. She, for her part, seemed entirely unaffected.
"Don't you want to know my secret first, Tommy?" she pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at him.
"You're behaving rather cocky for a girl tied up in my study." Voldemort's voice never cracked, but it suddenly felt like it could when she spun again and cackled loudly.
"sorry, one correction ' babe' this is my study." The laughter was gone from her voice. Her face was relaxed and calculated as she surveyed the man they'd feared for most of their lives. "are you ready to die Tommy?" she whispered.
"What did you say to me?" he screeched, very much done with whatever this play was.
"3, 2, 1." She whispered her countdown. Nothing happened.
"Trying to delay the…." Voldemort's words were cut off with the sound of a massive explosion, bright artificial light flooded through the windows, and a slow buzzing sound struck Tom Riddle's ears. He screamed the killing curse, but nothing happened. He made to glide but found he could not. Hermione snorted with laughter.
"I love this song!" The bound girl exclaimed as loud guitar licks and banging drums flooded through the dark halls of Malfoy Manor, shaking the mortar.
Tom Riddle, magically impotent and furious, ached from head to toe, the waves of magic that helped his brittle bones stay upright were gone, and he knew why. There had been word from the northern outposts of Muggles with Muggle weapons, blocking the magic and slaughtering the Death Eaters without remorse "you?" he questioned, his voice finally cracking.
But he'd read her, read her mind from start to finish, every word of her boring little life from beige cover to beige cover. She was a dull girl who knew very little. "HOW?" he screamed, stumbling towards her, unable to carry his own weight.
"I told you babe ; this is my house." Hermione kicked her legs excitedly as the distant sound of gunfire rained down the corridor. "I lowered the wards hours ago." She swayed happily to the music from her hanging position.
"No!" he screeched, struggling to find his balance. "No!" it was as though he'd stolen her mantra, his world suddenly crumbling around him, he waved his wand again, and still, there was nothing. The Mudblood bit her lip and wriggled, enjoying his suffering. But he'd read her, he'd read her memories and thoughts, he'd peeled every sodden page of her mind apart and devoured it.
"I'm an unreliable narrator," she said smugly, as though it was she who was reading his mind.
"Pour some sugar on me…." a voice sang along with the blaring muggle music somewhere outside the door, separating Hermione and her captor… or captive from the fray. Hermione let out an excited squeal.
There was a thud as a boot hit the barrier, the doors to Lord Voldemort's study shook and gave way revealing a rather dashing man clutching a sawn-off shotgun, his blonde hair swept back and the tails of his army coat billowing in the breeze "Honey, I'm home!"
He looked every bit the jaunty hero, and Hermione felt her insides squirm at the sight of him, at the sight of his grin, his eyes, his shoulders. The version Tom Riddle had conjured up was pale by comparison, in skin and character. "Your snake is dead." Draco Malfoy said to his former master nonchalantly as he approached Hermione. The dark Lord made a run for him, arms outstretched to strangle the life from the boy he'd thought deceased, the boy who was now a man shoved Tom Riddle easily, causing the once-powerful wizard to stumble backwards into a wall.
"have fun hanging out with uncle Tom?" Draco chuckled as he wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her from the meat hook where she had been hanging. "Hilarious." she said with a roll of her eyes as her arms fell limply around his neck, still bound, and she grinned into his shoulder. Neither seemed at all worried to be trapped in a room with the 'famous' Lord Voldemort. They swayed a little to the blaring guitar riffs of Def Leppard, Draco pressing sweet little kisses to the side of her mouth as the music continued. Distant screams of mown down enemies peppered the bars, and Tom Riddle stared on in anguished horror, his magic gone, his plan foiled, his enemies swarming his castle.
"You're dead." He hissed, staring at Draco, who was now cutting through the binds around the hands of his beloved. She rolled her shoulders before reaching into Draco's long coat and retrieving a small black pistol. She turned it to the man who'd once been a lord.
"He's not." She smiled sweetly "but you soon will be."
"I watched my snake eat him." Noseless and magicless, Tom Riddle tried to rise to his feet but stumbled, ending on his knees.
"You watched your snake eat Aunty Bella, with a stomach full of Polyjuice and confuddling creams." Draco wrapped an arm around Hermione's waist and stared emotionless at the man kneeling before them.
"no." Tom Riddle clutched at the front of his robes, remembering how confused and pained the boy had been by his demise "no!" it bore repeating.
"yes, yes… yes." Hermione responded with a lick of her lips. "poor little Tommy Riddle, he must be very confused."
"I read you." He repeated his words from earlier, panic and bile rising in the withered windpipe of the man who'd ripped the world apart for power.
"You read what I let you read." She hissed, letting a foot fly out to kick his crumpled form, "and then I kept you busy for a few hours while they got set up." She grinned and turned to Malfoy, who was smirking at the man who'd once ruled his life.
There was a moment where none of them spoke, and they just stood there, Draco humming along to Pour Some Sugar on Me. The Lord of nothing opened his slit mouth. "How do you know this isn't a ruse too?" he tried fanning his arms wide. Hermione Granger shook her head and tutted.
"You still don't get it." She pointed at the line on her finger, her little nervous spot. "I've got a tether."
She smiled and wrapped her hand into Draco's "and… I'm much brighter than you Tom." She raised an eyebrow "actually we both are, I've seen your grades Tommy, it appears you got a lot more credit than you deserved, didn't you?" she mocked him with his own words.
"mudblood." He spat at her feet, though he didn't have much saliva left.
"Mudblood." Hermione nodded back at him, naming him for what he was.
"I'm tired of you now." Hermione raised her small pistol pointing it at Tom.
"But the prophesy." He spat, "Potter…."
"When the gods make plans, I laugh." Hermione said softly, allowing Rick Allen to finish his drum solo before tightening her finger around the trigger. There was a bang, and a red splatter where the Lord of Darkness's head had once been, Hermione's aching arm shot up with the recoil, but she kept hold of the weapon easily.
"Potter is not going to be happy about this." Draco Malfoy toed the body of Tom Riddle with a smirk.
"Potter was told to arrive with you." She pursed her lips smartly, turning from the body and walking towards the now open door, her weapon still drawn.
"How many years were you trapped in there with him ?" he asked, catching up to her and cocking his shotgun.
"Six" Hermione's lips spread into a smirk to rival the man beside her. "And you must've been the single most boring death eater under Voldemort, because his version of you was so dull, so anaemic and so nerdy I had to stop myself from bullying you every day." She snorted.
"I obviously didn't showcase my dazzling personality during the snake executions and torturing." he kicked a door open as they passed and ensured the room was clean.
"did you… you know, sleep with him?" he asked, not an ounce of accusation in his voice.
"nope." She snickered, "I had to give him something so… we did nothing but him going down on me, and… he was awful." She continued to roar with laughter, stopping only to fire a head shot at a screaming death eater who appeared from a small side room. "I told him that's how muggles did it until marriage and I wasn't ready for marriage."
Draco was doing the maths on his fingers, "he went down on you for six years?"
"four, I didn't let him touch me for the first two." She corrected. "I was so unsure of it all, the feelings and what not." she trilled dramatically and fluttered her eyelashes.
"I know it was just in your mind, but the idea of him being anywhere near you makes me ill." he stopped and looked at her longingly "you were very brave."
"I know." She wrapped her arms around Draco's neck. "It was so boring, and gross but I wasn't sure of the time differential so I just kept drawing it out." She pressed a kiss on his chin and didn't even flinch when he fired a spray of buck at an oncoming death eater. "I missed you." She allowed him to lift her from the ground.
"The House is clear." A voice called from somewhere in the distance. Draco Malfoy pressed a smug kiss into Hermione's neck.
"did you hear that my love?" he mumbled into her hair as his feet moved with years of muscle memory towards the entrance hall and the grand staircase.
"I did, we should go meet up with our friends." She wrapped her legs around his waist as he trudged onwards.
"That wasn't the deal." He held her bum with one hand and his still drawn shotgun with the other.
"really, you really want to do this now?" she chuckled as he kicked a door clean off its hinges, and they stumbled into the entranceway and an onlooking crowd.
"where's Voldemort?" Harry asked, already knowing the answer at the sight of the engrossed pair.
"dead." they shouted in unison as Draco began to trudge up the main staircase. If her weight bothered him, he did not let it show.
"I have been waiting to do this for so long." he muttered into her neck before nipping the tender flesh. He booted yet another door with a grunt.
"Handles, are a thing." she grinned into his hair "you know that right?"
"Then I'd have to remove my hand from your arse and I'm not willing to make that sacrifice yet." he chuckled before stopping. "We're here."
He placed her, reluctantly, back on the ground and turned her around "wow!" she awed "my library."
"your library Mrs Malfoy." Draco wrapped his free hand around her front and pulled her into him. The portrait hanging above the fireplace let out a pained wail. "And that's your father in law" he pointed at the distressed Oil on canvas. "Dad, this is my wife… the muggle born witch who just killed Voldemort" The painting of the recently deceased Malfoy senior roared his disapproval, impotently from the gilt frame in which he resided.
"Well that's going to get annoying fast." she tutted.
"Agreed" without much more thought, Draco pointed his shotgun at the artistic interpretation of the former Malfoy patriarch and pulled the trigger. Spraying buckshot through the canvas and peppering it with holes. The painting silenced.
"Right wife, pick a book and get naked." he ordered with a grin as he slumped into a dust-covered armchair.
"You're such a weird man." she laughed, pulling her sweater over her head nonetheless.
"Do not kink shame me woman." he rubbed his hands gleefully together as she shucked her trousers down and started to peruse the shelves in her underwear. "You said if I let you be the bait I could have anything I wanted, I want you… naked… reading in my library while I watch."
Hermione thought about the version of Draco that Voldemort had tried to paint in her mind. He was nothing like the man she knew, not nearly weird enough to be her husband.
A/N I wrote this story years ago, lost it then found it. I tarted it up a little bit and decided to post it. It's the type of story I know could be more and perhaps I'll make a collection of it at some point but right now I really love how it stands alone.
"Te futueo et caballum tuum" = Screw you and the horse you rode in on