**Superior Quality**
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Chapter eight:
"People will do the unthinkable, if they feel deceived. And it could all go as planned,
at All Hallow's Eve..." -Pansy Parkinson, The Superior Quality Chapter 8...
The prologue of the end; Hermione's decision
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- Draco Malfoy -
Wallow.. wallow.. wallow...
That's what I seem to do for the most of my days with the living; wallow. It's been two weeks since I had separated with Hermione. Two weeks! It may not be long, but it sure felt too long to me. Saddest thing, I might need to suffer more weeks after tomorrow.
I haven't seen her.. I needed to. McGonagall says she wasn't doing very good up wherever she placed her at. She said that Hermione barely eats, responds to her, or care if anyone else alive was around.
Now I fear for her well being even more. Laying on my bed, staring at the ceiling, not caring for the bright-ready sunlight pouring in my window, I started to recollect all that has been going on since two weeks.
Let's see.. where to start?
How about Potter and the Weasel? Yes, I call them those names once again, and with good reason. They seem to think I'm after Hermione, and that I'm helping Voldemort by getting her.
So much for befriending them... but what could I say back? It was going to be said sooner or later, right? I'm Draco Malfoy, son of a Death Eater. The suspicion of me being friends with Hermione, was bound to come up under the circumstances of those facts. It was never brought to them that.. maybe I had changed.
And those two weren't the only ones who came back to hating me.. 3/4 of all Hogwarts seem to hate me.
Then there were my 'fellow' Slytherins. Oh, they were surely proud that, quote, "I was only befriending 'Mudblood' so I could give her to Voldemort", so naturally they had started to talk to me again. I tried to tell them that, no, I wasn't faking my attraction to Hermione. They just laugh.
Frankly though, I don't give a shit with what they say; everyone, as a matter of fact. Let them think I'm trying to kill Hermione, or let them think I'm working with Voldemort! I don't give a fuck about them.
....
So let's change the subject... what else? Ah, Professor Snape has come back to class; I was rather surprised. I thought for sure McGonagall would have had him expelled after that incident, yet there he was three days later. Of course everyone in the three other houses except Slytherin hated him. I did too. It angered me that he just came back to class, looking and acting as if nothing big happened a couple days ago. That ass.. that impudent ass.
Potions is now a very hostile class. Most of the Gryffindors in my hour never talk or cooperate during the lessons. Strangest thing is, Snape looked like he didn't care if they didn't or did. Was he.. sorry? It didn't seem like he was.. maybe he just suddenly turned soft.
Well, besides Snape's bold comeback, Professor Dumbledore seem to be turning into a nervous wreck. I'm not sure if it's just me, or that the fact is he knows something, possibly terrible, that he doesn't want to share. Usually, Dumbledore acts a little immature for an old man; sometimes he even pisses me off when he starts rambling about silly and stupid things. They ought to call him 'Double-door' instead.. ugh.. I'm getting lame on my jokes.
Back to my point, I'm beginning to grow very suspicious about the things going around with the teachers here. Is Voldemort planning on attacking our school? Are Death Eaters threatening to steal students? I really couldn't cook up any explanation.. except I know it isn't any good.
Even McGonagall seemed to look like a wreck. Perhaps she knows also.. then it's sure to be something very bad. I don't understand why they couldn't at least tell us, 7th years. Or me, the Head Boy. This just proves that whatever it is, is too large for them or us to handle. Is Hogwarts in doom then?
I don't know... I don't care.
I sat up from my bed and looked out the large window beside me. The tree underneath my window was now bare, it's leaves lay red and orange below its nude branches; I started to think of that day... the day before I became friends with Hermione. She stood there, under that tree, in the rain, and smiling at nothing; she'd done that at least 6 times before. And during all those times, I sat here and watched.
Frowning at the lowly tree, I changed my view to the grayish blue sky above.
.. I wonder how she's doing? Besides what McGonagall told me?
I really needed to see her, because I'm afraid she's suddenly slipping from my grasp, as my mind seemed to be doing so. McGonagall told me all these horrible news about her. She says she's being more anti-social, too quiet, less grateful, and hardly takes a bite of her meals. In general, I think she'd given up on faking. I can't understand why. Hermione is such a hard-headed girl, she wouldn't give up so quickly, and I panic at this because there must be something else then.
Still, I couldn't go off to see her. I was still 'restricted' to; Dumbledore was afraid that I might turn into 'Mr. Black eyes-wanna-get-Hermione-for-master' again. And I'm sure I would if Hermione was around.
During my sleep, I often hear the same voice that told me to get her, in my head. It's telling me that 'it' would eventually get her, with or without my 'help'. It was a rather frightening threat.. but it was also stupid. I could handle whoever the hell this person is, just you wait. If 'it' tries anything anytime soon, I'll kill 'it' before he can lay a finger at Hermione. I swore it to her.. with my life. Even if it meant avoiding her all my life, as long as she's alive, I'll still be keeping that promise. I'm not about to back down from that, not to her. She was too precious.
I knew that, since the day she began to trust me. I knew it wouldn't be easy being happy with her, and I realized that it would be easy to miss her. So what if it seems like she had me in strings and sticks; controlling me and my feelings? I really didn't care if it was all laid out in her hands... as long as she was with me, and I was with her.
Oh lord, what's going on with me? I'm turning into a hopeless romantic! I know I 'more-than-like-her', but this is dumb. It's like being a damn depressed poet, constantly trying to prove that he's in love.
Well I am.. and she knows.
I'm not sure if she 'more-that-like-me' back.. there wasn't really a definite answer to that when I asked.
Hopefully she does.
.....
I gave a sigh and got out of my bed; too bad I promised to protect her... now I can't sneak in to visit her. Dammit..
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The room was still and quiet. No one came there, no one new how, except the ones who had brought her there. Though, this is Hermione's temporary room; a place where she would stay isolated from everyone else. And this was how she wanted it.
Hardly anyone visited her, for she was 'off limits' even to her closest friends. Seeing only faces of the female professor, and Ron's mother, Hermione could no longer recognize, or even remember anyone else's face. And she was only stranded from them for two weeks, yet her mind wandered elsewhere, taking in things from beneath her conscious thinking, and making room for them. Names were now people she knew once in her lifetime, with blank faces on them.
Did this scare her? Did this concern her?
In fact, no. Hermione welcomed the disconnection with her friends. She thought that she felt more powerful as an independent, (how right she was.)
Hermione crowded her body against a corner wall, a dresser closing her in the dark, and a single lighted candle flickering shadows above her. She sat, one knee which was supporting an elbow, and the other leg crossed underneath. Clutching her head with one hand, she opened and closed her eyes momentarily, possibly thinking.
Thinking, she was. She had recently found out -- more like 5 days ago -- that her depression was starting to show, and she was emotionally weakening. This made her uneasy, yet she was very fond of the foreign dark that frequently enveloped her. She'd hear voices, and at first she was afraid of where it came from. Now she was glad that it was there. To her, the voice was a great companion. It would sometimes boost her, and help her back on her feet when she feels the day is hopeless.
Her 'new friend' often talked to her, telling her all sorts of secrets. It told her many ways of escaping her problem, and one of them stuck in her mind. One that she didn't want to do, one that she wouldn't, and yet the idea floated in her mind day by day, night by night. And it urged, urged her to do it, urged her that there was no other way.
Hermione took a deep sharp breath as she stared at the other darkened corner of the room; nothing was there for her to look at except her bed, but she seemed fixated towards that side.
Every time she'd feel or think of that 'one idea', she'd often feel the presence of another in the room. And it was often over there, where it was also dark -- darkest in the room, of all. She'd feel uneasy, but still, she had a great urgency to know who it was. Was it him? The voice that talked to her? Was he real?
'I'm real..' the voice told her right then, as if reading her mind, 'You just can't see me..now. So have you thought about the scheme?' he asked anxiously.
Nodding slowly, Hermione kept her eyes at the same corner, "... why do you prefer that?" she said in a hushed voice. She pulled her knee closer to her as a cold wind encircled her in a tight hug.
'Because I feel it's for the better for you... You don't want to be sad anymore, do you?' his voice remained calm and kind. Hermione gave a tight smile.
".. will you come with me when I go?" Hermione felt a cold-invisible hand brushing her cheek. She closed her eyes at the feeling, then opened them again, hoping a face would appear before her, but she found none.
'I'll be with you the whole way... once you come, I'll be beside you, and we'll be together.' his voice seemed to be whispering in her ear, making a shiver run up her spine.
Hermione let out a breath, ".. when I do go, what if I don't become happy?" As soon as she finished, the cold had gone away, and the cold touch wasn't in contact with her skin, leaving her disappointed.
'You will become happy, Hermione. I know you will.' he gave a pause, 'Come tonight. I will wait for you near the forest.. I will wait.' he said, his voice slowly slipping off until he was finally gone.
The candle above her flickered violently for a second, then started to flicker back normally. The darkest corner was now slightly lighted by the candle. Hermione hated the fact that he couldn't stay any longer. That was how long he could sometimes go.. and she wondered why? Maybe it was because he is was using magic to contact her, and Hogwarts was secured from any magic coming from the outside world? Hermione believed this as the reason.
If only she could get out of here, she often thought of it. She would find him... and why? Because she was attracted somehow. For some reason, she didn't want the voice to leave, she wanted him to stay forever.
And she felt silly and stupid to be attracted to the voice, when she didn't even know who it really was. But somewhere deep within her, she knew who it was. His face, nor his name, wasn't able to come in mind.
Hermione's eyes shot up as her door opened suddenly, showing a very troubled face of Prof. McGonagall, "Ms. Grang-" she paused at her word, "Hermione, today is Halloween, and as you know, we have a very large feast prepared for tonight." McGonagall only kept her worried stare at her, as Hermione kept hers blank and indifferent, "I know you cannot come down, then perhaps you'd like me to bring you food from the feast and maybe accompany you?"
Silence.
Hermione shifted her forehead on her hand, her eyes falling to her knee, "No. It's alright, professor, I don't mind. Please enjoy the evening with the others, I'm not to be your burden."
"You are not a burden." McGonagall insisted, "I am only worried that you may feel left out, or bored."
"Left out? No. Bored? I might be," Hermione said calmly, "but do not worry over such a thing as boredom. I can easily manage by myself, professor. So please, have the evening at the Great Hall with the rest of the teachers and students, and enjoy the holiday."
McGonagall opened her mouth, only to find them close again. She stiffened her posture and wrinkled her brows lower, "Alright, I will join them, if you are sure?" Hermione nodded to her, and McGonagall followed, "I will bring you your supper later then. When would you like it?"
Hermione stared hard at her knees as she thought, "After you've finished the feast. I'm not that hungry so I can wait until the party has finished."
Sighing, McGonagall bid farewell and left her on her own in the room.
In the dark corner between a wall and a dresser, Hermione felt as hopeful and excited as she could have ever been since she got stuck in this room. Because she was no longer going to be here..
She's going to meet him tonight, when everyone else is elsewhere.
Then she'd be happy.. finally.
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- Halloween ~ The Feast -
Jack-o-Lanterns levitated in the Great Hall, as misty stars streaked the enchanted ceiling.
When supper time came around the corner, the horde of students of Hogwarts all rushed to their seats, prepared to eat the delicious delights they have been dwelling on all day.
As people gathered inside the bustling room, one student seemed to be less enthralled. Draco advanced in with a wavering walk. He seemed to not care for the decorated hall, nor for the impressive centerpieces on the tables. As soon as he reached midway of his walk towards his seat at front, the room quieted down. People were now staring at him with vexing looks and harsh whispers.
Draco only cocked an eye and scoffed. He continued to walk until he had reached his place and sat. Once he was comfortably on his seat did the room fill with excitement once again. Looking around without care, Draco's expression became agitated as Pansy Parkinson made her way up to him.
Dressed in a red mock-of-a-dress, she came in front him in gait steps. She had a mischievous grin, and her eyes danced, "Aww.. Draco, why do you always look at me like that? It hurts."
"Well that's good then." he snapped back, his voice as low as a grumble. He glanced at her with annoyance, "What do you want?"
"You, obviously." Pansy giggled. From one of her pockets, she pulled out a sheet of paper, "I've made you a very special poem for tonight, Draco. You better read it.. it 'might' be for your own good." she looked up for a minute, then quickly looked back with a smirk, "No... then again, it might not." With two fingers, she slid the note on the table to him. Winking, she gaily made her way back to the Slytherin table before Professor McGonagall, and the rest of the teachers who just came in, shoo-ed her away.
Eyeing the piece of paper folded equally neat, Draco stared at it as if it carried a deadly disease. With one hand, he grabbed and crumpled it in his palm. He didn't know what Pansy was trying to pull on him tonight, but it isn't going to work. His hand held the balled paper tighter, until suddenly he opened his hand up and let it fall to back on the table.
It had burned him. The paper burned him.
Wide-eyed he looked at his palm, it was red and almost looked like it was ready for a blister. Draco shot Pansy a look from across the room; she looked at him entertained, and mouthed to him, 'Read it.'
Rubbing his palm on the smooth surface of his black turtleneck sweater, Draco picked up the wad with his other hand. Unfolding it, he opened it up on top of his plate and started to read quietly in his mind, as Dumbledore began his very awkward speech for the feast.
Draco took a quick skim at the words, then re-read it carefully in fear:
"Red as a rose, thick as the sky.
Blood flows endlessly, no one knows why.
Once you are bitten, you can never run.
Once you are bitten, he'll have his fun."
"There's a girl in a tower, lonely as ever.
She already forgot you, though you declare never.
You'll forget her, for a single while.
Then come to, when you see her smile."
"But this poem has no happy ending.
This isn't meant for a heart's mending.
When you see her smile, she wouldn't be the same.
For after that, you've already finished 'his' game."
"And for the grand finale, I bid you adieu.
For really, there's nothing you can do.
People will do the unthinkable, if they feel deceived.
And it could all go as planned, at All Hallow's Eve..."
To Draco,
You'll regret what you did to me,
and what you may do tonight... I know you will.
-Love, Pansy.
Slowly, Draco placed the note in his pocket, his face drained from color. He moved his eyes to Pansy in disbelief; she returned his look with an expression of pure pleasure. Pansy knew more than him, and Draco figured this out. He stood up suddenly, cutting Dumbledore's attention to him.
All gaze fell upon him, even the teacher's, but he didn't care. He was ready to rush towards Pansy's smirking face when suddenly his vision blurred. He felt himself sway, his limbs going surprisingly cold, and his stomach twist. He knew this feeling from before, but he didn't know why it was happening now.
Then he thought of the note.. Pansy said that he'd do something he would regret. Opening his mouth to warn McGonagall, or Dumbledore, or someone, about what was happening, Draco found his control out of reach as a smile plastered on his face and he sat back down.
"Mr. Malfoy, may I continue now?" Dumbledore asked softly to his side.
Draco turned to him with a pleasant smile, his eyes black and bland, "Of course professor. Please do."
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Back and forth, Hermione strode across her room, looking rather grim and maniacal. She was thinking deeply of what she was about to do; was she just going to make a mad dash to wherever she's going to go without anyone knowing, or would she tell them first?
'If I tell.. If I tell.. they won't let me go.. never.. never.. they'll keep me here forever.. they will... they won't say yes.'
"They won't let me out!" she said surprisingly loud. It was a good thing that no one was around at the moment to hear her. Everyone, including Mrs. Weasley, were all down at the hall for the feast.
Pacing to her bed, Hermione sat down, her shoulders shaking with uneasiness, "He said to meet him tonight.. outside.. outside how? Outside where?" she muttered to herself, and stood back up, "I'll go down.. I'll sneak! Yes-- sneak out without telling.. sneak. No one needs to know.. no one cares."
Hermione stopped towards her dresser and blew out her candle. With great determination, she flung open her door and ran down the dark spiral staircase.
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"Mr. Malfoy, where do think you are going?" McGonagall questioned the boy when he stood up in the middle of supper time.
Draco, or rather his body, turned to her with a kind smile, "I'm simply heading to the boys room, professor, is that alright?"
McGonagall eyed the boy differently, she thought to herself that he looked somehow different. Shrugging her shoulders, McGonagall nodded, "Of course, Mr. Malfoy. Do come back straight here, no funny business."
Smiling in recognition, Draco's body started down in between the halls and disappeared through the large doors in silence.
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Her feet patting the soft, wet grass, Hermione ran through the dark thickness of the fall evening. The air was excruciatingly bitter, it pricked her bare, and now wet, feet. Her breath created misty clouds as she ran further, and farther.
She wasn't sure where she was heading, but her feet seemed to know exactly where, towards the Forbidden Forest.
Feeling her feet suddenly pleading her to halt, her breath was caught shortly in her throat as a figure ahead of her appeared suddenly. It was then she ran faster, her heart pounding against her ears as she neared; she would finally meet him.
Her eyes opening wide, Hermione began to slow down as the man's outline could be seen past the palpable darkness, and she stopped at the sight of him and his face.
Shivering in the cold dark, staring at the man before her, she stopped her excitement, and turned it more into frustration and confusion. Her heart pounded louder against her ears, her eyes still glued to the face, Hermione forced a word through her dry, cracked lips, "Draco?"
Draco smirked at her, his dark eyes matching the night sky, "Are you ready to go? He's over there--" he pointed a finger towards the forest, "Come now." Without warning, he came forward and grabbed her by the waist and hauled her over his shoulder. With one brisk move, he swiftly ran to the forest.
Hermione, bewildered, confused, and terrified, tried to free herself, but it was no use. Draco was going extremely fast as he cut through the forest trees. She couldn't just jump out of his grasp, she was too afraid to get hurt. Letting a whining cry, Hermione swallowed; this was what she wanted, so this was what she'll get. She couldn't back out anymore.
Closing her eyes, then opening them with a more bold expression, Hermione decided to stick with her original plan; to come down here, meet him and get help from his master. She knew very well who the master was, but Hermione didn't really care. As long as that man knew how to take her 'problem' away, she didn't care.
Then there was the promise of togetherness with him, and to her surprise it was Draco the whole time. Or was it? Either way, she would rather have had him. Trying to calm down within Draco's tight grasp, Hermoine snaked an arm around his head and rested hers behind his, "You'll be with me..." she said softly.
Feeling herself pull back suddenly, she noticed that Draco had stopped. Carefully, she was brought down in front of him, his face in full attention to the men in cloaked robes up front, "I've brought her."
"Good boy, Draco." a man complimented near the front; Lucius moved out, stepping in front of a sudden bonfire that appeared out of nowhere, "Our lord is very proud."
Hermione looked around at the cloaked Death Eaters, her pride out, and her feeble fright shaking inside. There were so much than before, at least a hundred now. All of them turned their hooded faces to her, except for Lucius who was walking straight away in front of her to a tall man who was hidden deeper in the circle.
Lucius bent down to him, whispering things she couldn't hear, and as soon as he finished, a pair of devilish red eyes eyed her in the dark.
"Welcome, child. I suppose you're here for eternal happiness?" he chuckled, "You've come to the right place, Hermione. This decision was a very wise decision indeed. Congratulations." he began to clap, and soon every Death Eater clapped along with him, though Lucius was a little hesitant.
Standing still, looking at the man who had killed Muggles, who had killed her parents, who had killed Harry's parents, who had been the most afraid-of enemy in all history of Hogwarts, he didn't seem to frighten her as much as she thought. Was it because he welcomed her, congratulated her? She didn't know.
Her voice quivering, Hermione spoke, "Will.. will you give me eternal happiness?" she spoke defiantly, but soft.
"Of course." the clapping had died down as the tall man proceeded in front of her. He looked grand, muscle-bound, and extremely powerful. He smiled wickedly at Hermione, "You will get what you want, and more. You absolutely want this, right?"
Hermione nodded as her jaw opened in awe at the Voldemort's appearance. Without another moment, he had scooped her above ground with her head. At first, Hermione felt a sharp pain on her neck as she was pulled up with a hand on her face. Then suddenly, she couldn't breath. Panicking, she grabbed the wrists in front of her and tried to pull away. Voldemort began to laugh.
A distance from this, Draco watched the scene in front of his cold-voidless eyes, and as if he was fighting it, it began to flicker back to normal. He took a deep breath as he hauled over; he was trying to fight through the spell. With a groan, he lifted his head and opened his eyes, showing a pair of gray ones. In front of him, he saw Hermione squirming within the gasp of Voldemort; his heart jumped to his throat, "NO!!!"
Lucius saw his boys sudden reaction and walked to him, "Don't fight it boy. You'll only get yourself killed." he pointed his wand to him, "Crucio!"
Draco lunged to the wet forest floor in pain, his insides felt as if they were twisting into hard knots. He yelled in pain, but still continued to yell for Voldemort to stop, "Don't!!!! Leave her alone!!!"
Laughing harder than before, Voldemort felt the girl's body twitch and fall limp. He pursued his lips and spoke to his fellow Death Eaters, "Tonight will be the beginning of the end." he announced. Letting Hermione's body fall to his feet with a sick thud, he pointed his wand to the fainted girl, "Imperillus Amateas, Sireneia enDonce." he chanted and in an instant, Hermione's eyes opened, revealing two hazy-red eyes.
Looking up from the floor, Draco watched in silence as Hermione rose to her feet slowly, not dressed in a black-witch dress, but a revealing black-velvet dress. It flowed down to her ankles, her sides open to the night air, and back exposed down to waist line. Her hair flowed into the atmosphere with ease, still straight from top and curly on the bottom.
Draco felt a great hate to himself; he had failed. Squinting, he let his heart sink deep, telling himself that it was over, and there was nothing else. It was all his fault, and he cursed himself for it.
For a couple of seconds, Draco watched as the new Hermione, the evil Hermione, talked to Voldemort:
"Welcome, Lady Hermione."
"Hmm... what a pain." she muttered to him with indignant tone, "I asked for happiness, not annoyance."
Voldemort's face became acidic, "You accepted, take it as your own punishment. Now you first task; imprison the one they call Harry Potter, and kill that damn Dumbledore."
Hermione brushed aside a strand of hair, "That's it? I can't terrorize the school? Pathetic." she remarked hotly, "Fine, I'll be over with the boy later."
She dangled a finger behind her, towards Draco, who surprisingly began to float up standing. His eyes focused more as Hermione turned around to face him, a pleased smile on her red- tantalizing lips, "Draco." she purred. Coming up to him, Draco watched in silence as the 'Hermione with red eyes' gave him a burning kiss.
Draco felt himself feel lost in the kiss, even if it wasn't passionate at all. As it ended, he saw her pull back with great happiness, "I'll be back later." she whispered, and in an instant she was gone.
A dull pain on the back of his head, made him droop down. His eyes blurred, and his head ached.
Draco fell unconscious.
¤~¤End of Book I¤~¤
I know I promised a 'thanks to' and an explanation about Beatrix, but I really needed to rush on this a bit. You see, I won't be home all weekend starting Friday evening, and I was thinking of updating this Friday evening. But since I won't be here, I decided to just do it now and get it over with.
So this is the end of Book I. Hope you enjoyed it while you could. The next chapter's are going to be more serious and dark, so the rating is going to go ( I think) either R or NC17.
I'm so glad no-one threw produce at me from the last chapter, but I can guess some might in this so .. I'm ready! ::gets her umbrella and bucket::
Thanks to those who have reviewed me!!! I luv you all!!!!!!!!!!! And I hope you continue to read and review and like the fic!!!
Also to Nuviel -- Your email doesn't work! ;-; I tried
telling you about the chapters, but it keeps sending it back, sorry.
~Strife21