Chapter 6: Morgan's Revenge

Disclaimer: don't own anything but the plot, so don't sue me, I really have enough problems with my "depression". Does nobody read my story or do you guys simply don't like reviewing??? In any of these cases, it makes me soooooooo gloomy. Come on, I'd give my eye for more reviews. Then again, perhaps I wouldn't. Since you don't review, I'm gonna be sadistic and I'll let the suspense in the last line and if you don't review, I won't post anything more so you won't know what happens. laughs evilly. So please, make me a happy J person and READ AND REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh, and by the way, thanks to all those who reviewed anyway: tortuga23, PiNG er, and Dreaming one. I don't have enough time to write something personal to all of you, but I'll come up with this in the next chapter…. if you review!!

I got the inspiration for this basing on my real life. I don't mean that my love life is as fascinating and romantic as Hermione's but this really cute guy asked me to go out with him, and…. I didn't accept! Because I'm in love with the bad boy…. Blonde? Yes I am, this is why I behave so stupidly... laughs again, sadly this time

Here you go, so ENJOY (and REVIEW please)

Hermione turned over the soup she was cooking, a habit of the times when she still lived with her parents that always calmed her. What had she done, last night? How couldn't she possibly feel guilty for having enjoyed it? And why the hell had Malfoy kissed her? He was a jerk, a bastard, a dicksucker, and… so why…? He liked making fun of the others, so perhaps he had just wanted to amuse himself flirting with her. Yet…

"F***!" she cursed, having burned her finger. She put it in her mouth and ran to the faucet to put her sore finger under icy water.

God punishes you, she thought, remembering her mother's words. Her mother, Eleanor, was very religious, and had the doubt wizards and witches might be a creation of Satan. This is why she had never agreed with her only daughter going to Hogwarts, but her husband deciding everything at home, she hadn't been able to prevent it.

Hermione sighed, thinking of the old times before her marriage. She was only twenty-three, and yet it seemed very long ago since she had last seen her parents. She had married Harry about one year ago, but it seemed much longer. Until then, she had lived with Ginny in a flat in downtown London. They had had a lot of fun. Before, she had lived mostly in Hogwarts, and during the holidays, at home, where she had to listen to her mother's hysterical and panic prayers, and her father's screams. Her parents had never suited each other. Hermione couldn't understand why they had married. All their numerous quarrels had ended with Eleanor weeping and shrieking her husband, Jake, was an incarnation of the devil, and her father spending all the contents of their purses in beers. Compared to this, even Hermione's actual life seemed heaven. She should be glad and thankful for having wed a fine guy such as Harry, so why did she regret it? Perhaps because she doubted she loved him? Her mother had taught her love was not indispensable for a good marriage. You could come up very well with your husband without adoring him. Then again, Jake and Eleanor hadn't loved each other and hadn't come up together well either.

"Hi honey, I'm home!"

She heard the door banging behind Harry, and smiled weakly to him as he entered the kitchen.

"Hello, Harry."

"You know", he said raising his wand; "You could do this very much easier with magic."

"I know, but I want it like this. It doesn't taste the same."

He beamed at her and bent forwards to kiss her gently.

"Nothing tastes as good as when you do it, darling."

Hermione moved away.

"I… I must… go to the toilets, I'll be right back." She muttered.

How will you come up with this, Mimi? She asked to herself. How will you be able to look into his eyes?

***

- What has Malfoy done? Voldemort's impotent and powerful voice reverberated, making Mildred Prebble tremble from head to toes. She fell to her knees sobbing.

- Please forgive me, milord, I didn't want to upset you, she muttered between two blubbers.

- Upset me? Upset me?! The evil wizard's voice was louder than ever as he cried on his servant. If you didn't want to upset me, you should have killed this betrayer!

- Kill him? But, milord…

- No buts, Prebble! What does this mean, he kissed the enemy's wife?! How dare he? Oh, he'll pay for this! Prebble?

- Yes, milord? The poor woman said not daring to look up.

- How did you know about their meeting?

- Uhm…

- Say it, Prebble, or you'll have to suffer my punishment!

- Morgan Wells told me! Mildred said quickly.

Though Mildred was terribly afraid of Morgan Wells, knowing what she did to her enemies when she was angry, it still frightened her more to think about how Voldemort could possibly punish her. Morgan was hard, she easily got furious and was sometimes cruel, but she was like a choir child compared to the Lord of Darkness.

- Morgan Wells? Malfoy's wife?

Mildred felt dazed. Malfoy's wife? He'd never talked about this. She knew they'd had a love story, but not that they had married

- I didn't… yes, this it is.

It seemed to her a smile was painted on Voldemort's almost non-existent lips.

- Interesting woman, this one, he hissed. Wants to kill her own husband… Bring her to me.

- Bring Wells to you? But, milord, she's like poison, you know, she…

- What do you know, Prebble, of what Wells is like?

- I… I used to know her, milord.

- Then tell me what you know about her.

- We were together at school in Beauxbâtons. She was really terrible, had no friends, because she was so mean and had all the boys at her feet while she made fun of them. She was so bright, and yet so…

- That's enough, Prebble. Why is she good?

Mildred hunched her shoulders and then winced, believing it was impolite to hunch shoulders in presence of the great master.

- Because of Malfoy, I think, she whispered. She hates him. And she wanted to do whatever could harm him.

Voldemort grinned in the darkness again.

- I like this. Manage to make me talk with her. She'll be the best to kill Malfoy.

Mildred nodded weakly. She didn't have the courage of replying that Malfoy was their best Death Eater, she knew Voldemort had only waited for an excuse to erase Draco. He didn't like competence, and he knew the young Malfoy was bright and brave and skilled enough to rebel against him.

***

Morgan was combing her long dark curls when she saw Mildred Prebble's miserable figure's reflection on her mirror.

- What do you want, Prebble? She said without turning around.

- I'm sorry to disturb you, Mrs. Wells, Mildred replied seeing Morgan's wand on her table, but the Lord wants to talk to you.

- Talk to me? She had a sarcastic laughter. I don't talk with the enemy.

- But, Mrs. Wells, it's you-know-who!

- And?

- You should fear his anger!

- I don't fear anything.

Mildred shook her head in disbelief.

- He'll kill you if you don't obey.

- Why does he want to talk to me?

- Because of Mr. Malfoy.

Morgan Wells' black eyes flashed with suddenly unleashed fury. The memory of her husband always made her fume.

- What – is – with – him? She said very slowly, trying to stay calm.

- It's because you tried to kill him.

- I'll do it, if I can. I don't need his permission.

- That's not the point. He wants you to kill him, and he wants to make a compromise.

Morgan first frowned, surprised, and then smiled.

- Alright. I'll talk with Voldemort.

***

Draco loved the night. It made him feel alive. Strangely excited, full of energy. But this night, it remembered him the mistake he had made the last time he had gone out in the darkness. When he had kissed Granger… Potter. Besides the fact she was married, there was also Morgan. His wife. Whom he had never divorced, but not seen again either since their wedding. He had loved her, he had really had. But… she was only one of the numerous women he had liked, though a better, brighter, more beautiful one. He'd made a mistake marrying her, but it wasn't entirely his fault. His parents, and hers, had insisted.

"What a wonderful people they'd make, so brave, so smart, so gorgeous, both of them", they had said. And they had. The entire underworld had talked about Mr. And Mrs. Draco Malfoy. The bewitching Morgan, the fascinating Draco. The perfect couple. And yet they had managed to hate each other so terribly it had almost killed them both. After having tried to kill him, Morgan had fled. He hadn't seen his wife again since then, but he knew she wouldn't give up. She never did. This was partly why he had loved her. And why he hated her now.

Hermione Potter was quite different. She was purely good, nice, friendly. But good. And yet smart, and interesting. Draco couldn't say he hadn't enjoyed their kiss, because he had, but it had been a mistake. A nice one, but a mistake anyway. And he knew someone had been watching them. Prebble? Potter? Or perhaps Morgan? At any rate, it might be fatal for him, Potter being the last dangerous of the three and Morgan the most. Prebble would certainly report the incident to Voldemort, who'd have a hysterical crisis and torture him for a while just for fun. Potter would cry because his wife had betrayed him and would then only think of how taking revenge. But Morgan? She'd loath him just more, and her urge to slay him would grow stronger. And Draco knew if he didn't pay attention, she'd succeed.

As if answering to his thoughts, he felt the touch of the point of a wand on his back.

"It'll be the last time you've betrayed me, Draco"

Morgan's musical voice was ice-cold.

"Do you want to kill me, Morgan?" he asked mockingly, though he was quite afraid.

"More than anything in the world."

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