In a silent room upstairs, away from the prying eyes of his supporters, Draco sat beside Hermione, ready to perform a binding spell more sacred than just a marriage, more everlasting beyond death. The fire crackled, intensifying the atmosphere of the room.
"Hermione, this may hurt a little...you do understand that, right? This particular binding spell may sting slightly." Hermione nodded, her heart pounding furiously like a bass drum, as Draco produced a small bottle from within the folds of his heavy black cloak. Opening the stopper, he poured a strange ice-cold substance on to her fingers. It looked like mercury, but it gave off a smell of heavy rose petals and newly made steel. Next, he placed his own hand on hers, and muttered a few foreign words in a low whisper. Hermione let out a small cry of fear as the cold began twisting and forming strange patterns along her fingers. As she watched with slight pain and wonderment, the now solidifying metal formed the shape of a dragon along on of her fingers. It twisted over Draco's own pale slender finger and formed the exact same shape. With a frosty snap, the metal cracked into two seperate rings. The sting turned into a strange burning of cold fire, and Hermione had to clench her jaw to keep from crying out. The metal finally ceased all movement, and it appeared to almost melt into her flesh and become imbedded in her skin. Hermione cautiously ran her thumb along the area. Just as she had half-expected, the metal was now strangely grafted into the skin of her finger. It was death-cold, and she quickly drew her thumb back.
"Now the final thing to complete the ritual to bind us, my love. You may want to turn away for this next part." Even Draco's voice sounded quavery. Instead of turning away, Hermione was only more anxious with excitement tinged with fear to see what the next part was. After a few more strange intoxicating words from Draco, the metal became fiery hot, and it started to move again. Hermione watched curiously with pain flickering in her eyes as it contorted and writhed. The dragon's head lifted off her finger, and turned slightly, opening its mouth. Hermione bit down on her bottom lip hard as the dragon's metal teeth punctured her skin, drawing a crimson droplet of blood. Suddenly the room began to swim in front of her eyes as if bizarre drugs had just been pumped through her veins. Even as she struggled to stay awake, she felt her eyelids slowly giving way.
"Shhhh...it's all over. Don't worry...I love you, Hermione." A hand gently took her own, a warm voice softly lulling her to sleep, wrapped in the soothing words of a lullaby.
As the sandman began to take hold, she heard someone, or rather, several someones, burst through the door. A deep voice, stricken with a fear and panic unusual to its owner...
"My Lord...Potter, and his army...they're coming. Now."
"I know, Severus..."
"How? Oh don't bother explaining Draco. But there is nothing we can do. At the most we have forty-five minutes, an hour."
"Hermione!" Her name was called out by a younger girl, and a blur of red hair and velvet robes rushed to her side.
"She will be fine...A binding spell has been performed on her. Ginny, Severus...take her downstairs. I will be down shortly."
"Master-"
"Be quiet!" An irritated voice snapped. Hermione was finding it increasingly harder to match up voices and names.
"Shut up...all of you! Do. What. I. Said! Take Hermione and leave me. LEAVE ME!" A sound of something shattering filled the otherwise empty silence. A half-insane laugh followed. Hermione felt someone slowly pick her up. Her head felt as light as if it were filled with helium, and blood pounded through her veins like a rushing torrent. The blur of colours around her soon became a blur of grey, that in turn faded out to a blackness of nothing.