A/N: I really want to thank everyone for reviewing this story…it's for these reviews that I keep writing. This is still Draco/Hermione, only it's taking a detour and it's going to consist of a plot. I'm actually really happy with this chapter…so I hope you like it, too. There are a few slightly controversial themes in this chapter, but nothing that will seriously scar anyone, and, anyways, remember, this story is rated R.
P.S. I wrote four poems (titled Crush #1, #2, #3, and #4) and they're about this guy (whom I obviously like) I thought I would tell everyone because the guy is so much like Draco it's uncanny and…if you want to read (hint hint)…I would appreciate it!!!
DEFEATED WE RISE
CHAPTER SEVEN: Committed
I tore back the pale green wrapping paper, tossed the golden bow around my neck and shielded the contents from everyone around me.
Inside was a small silver ring decorated in jade. It was wrapped up in his letter, and sealed at the four meeting edges of paper with the Malfoy family crest. I slipped the ring onto my finger and then picked up his letter. It read:
'Dearest Hermione,
It has been but a few days since I last held you, and already I long, with all my heart, all my soul, to be in your company again! It's been hell in the Manor, what with the house elves screaming bloody murder at each other and my mother sitting placidly fanning herself. That isn't why I wished to write you…
You were right. Your amulet is most rare, it is, indeed, the Amulet of Gaia. Basically, it lends the power of Earth, Air, Fire, and Water to it's possessor. You will have these powers…although they will only help you against you worst enemy, and only when you are in the direst of need. To be specific, this amulet will keep any enemy of yours from killing you, however, this does not leave you exempt from continuous torture and the like.
I went Christmas shopping with father yesterday, and I saw this ring and had to buy it for you. When I was younger my mother had one much like it, only, it fell down the drain and no one ever bothered to get it out, because she didn't care for it too much I suppose. I thought such a ring would look lovely on your finger, though, so…
Anyways, I love you, and I'll see you in a week and a half.
Draco
P.S. Pansy's coming for New Year's. God help me!'
***
Father sat down next to me and held out a quill. He smiled at me, only, this time, it really did look a little slithery. What was he asking me to do? Or was he even asking?
"Draco, we are writing to your little mudblood whore. Yes, Hemriona, I think you said her name was…Ahem."
Well, writing to Hermione was fine with me, as long as he got her name right.
"Father, her name is Hermione."
"Whatever you say. So write this: 'Dearest Hermione'"
What was I doing? Why was I writing her? What made me oblige?
I fought it, but the curse was too strong for me to stand against. My quill hit the paper, and with a few blots and a shaky start I began 'my' letter to her.
"Good, boy. Now put this: 'It has been but a few days since I last held you, and already I long, with all my heart, all my soul, to be in your company again!'"
I looked at the man I called father. Only a moment ago he had told me love was a foolish thing, and now he forces me write her a letter professing my love?
***
Damn. I had taught the boy too much. I could see him fighting the curse, I could see him think everything I demanded over in his head, struggle against it and then give in. It wouldn't be long before he could fight the curse all together.
I hadn't a clue how to write a love letter, having never needed to profess my love to anyone before in my life—all women I ever possessed had come begging on their knees—and now, here I was, dictating my 16-year-old son how to write one, and to a mudblood for Christ' sake! The very idea sickened me. He would muddy our blood if he wasn't careful. If I didn't take more control over his actions. I saw him look repulsed as his hand danced across the paper. Then, he fought and he overcame and in blotchy and scratchy writing unlike his usual neat hand, he scrawled, "It's been hell in the Manor, what with the house elves screaming bloody murder at each other and my mother sitting placidly fanning herself."
He got that far before I regained control. I surveyed his work and his seething eyes and then screamed, "Crucio!" He fell out of his chair and writhed in pain, tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes as he hit his head upon the Persian rug and vainly attempted to kick me in the shin. No son of mine would go unpunished for placing such shame upon one of the oldest and well-known Wizarding families.
***
I meant to write more, but my strength was ebbing so I looked to my father with defiance instead. He pointed his wand at me and I saw the hatred in his eyes before he muttered 'Crucio!' and I fell to the floor, my stomach stabbed with a thousand tiny daggers, my skull cracking against the floor…I tried to kick him but hit thin air.
Throughout the rest of the letter I hadn't enough strength to disobey, though in my heart I knew that I was killing her and I would be killing me, too. Then we reached the end, and father dictated to me, 'P.S. Pansy's coming for New Year's.' I saw at once his intention, to make Hermione jealous and make her wonder, and I wouldn't have it. I just managed to scrawl, painfully uneven and large, 'God help me!' , which didn't particularly pertain to the last bit of the letter but rather my whole situation, although she would probably never understand this and would probably hate me for the rest of eternity, unless I could summon the strength to fight the Unforgivable's and save her, save us.
"Drop the quill."
I dropped the quill.
"Place this ring inside."
I looked at him sideways, but took the ring and placed it inside the letter.
He grinned evilly at me, and whispered, "It's a tracking device, such as is used on animals, and we will use it to hunt your mudblood—we will use it to watch you hunt your prey—and bring us the amulet. Now, ungrateful bastard, you'll spend your days and nights in the dungeon until you give in!" Then he removed the curse, magically bound my hands and whispered "Crucio!" Half bent over I was shoved down the staircase into the large, and highly populated, Malfoy dungeons.
***
I giggled with glee. He had figured out the secret of my amulet! My amulet was the Amulet of Gaia, and to me was given the gentle protection of the four elements. I smiled and clasped the amulet tightly in both hands. Only Harry seemed to notice. It appeared that I would be having a lengthy chat with him, after all.
Re-reading Draco's letter, I noticed that it was a little odd for him. His writing, which was normally so neat and correct, was sloppy and went all over the place, as if someone has tried to take the quill from him on more than one occasion. Also, his speech was a little too proper, not his usual semi-loose self, and he didn't mention any of the things he promised he would. He didn't complain about his father, and didn't write as much as I had expected. It was probably all simply because he was too caught up in what he had discovered about my amulet. Yes, that was it. His hand had been shaky, because it was a momentous discovery, and I knew that upon momentous discoveries, I tended to forget any little thing I had planned on saying. It was perfectly reasonable, and if he left a little to be desired that was alright, because everyone was entitled to moments of forgetfulness and rush.
***
Where had I gotten to? I was prone to midnight meanderings, but I always ended up in some plush bed or other, not asleep upon cobblestones. Sometimes my head hurt, but that was always the result of a few too many drinks, and this was most definitely caused by the bump upon my forehead. I rubbed my eyes blearily, and then it all came roaring back.
I had figured out the amulet. My father knew everything. I was in prison. I was going to die unless I co-operated. I had rarely visited this part of the Manor. Now I knew that it was due for major renovation, was infested with rats, and that all of the occupants really needed to learn a few manners, such as keeping quiet at night so the rest of us could sleep.
Right when my stomach first began to rumble, I heard the clinking of the jailers and their keys, and heard the sound of a breakfast cart being pulled along. I had heard father grumble more than once about how expensive it was to hold people captive, and how generous we tended to be.
"Vairghe, whur's tha new captive?"
I waited as they paused outside my door.
"I was thinkin' 'e was in number 'ifty 'our…but now I'm not so sure…"
"We've gotta get it right, Vairghe, else we'll be join'n tha lot o' 'em down 'ere before long…ya know Master Malfoy's not too 'orgivin'. Won't like it if we starve tha wrong mister…"
Father was going to starve me! I kicked my boot up against the wall and let out a gutteral sigh. Some holiday this had been.
"We could just starve the lot o' 'em…then we wouldn't hafta worry which one we was missin'…"
"Yeah, but what'd we do wi' tha 'ood?"
"Listen, McGargy, why don' we jus' skip tha one I think it is…I'm prob'ly right, ya know?"
"Yeah…Oi, we've been in front o' it all along!" I heard the two of them laugh, and then one of them kicked my door ferociously and they went on their way.
***
It was New Year's Eve at the Weasley's. I noticed with more than a little misgiving the string of mistletoe attached to the ceiling and both Fred and George eyeing me mischieviously. I scooted closer to Ginny and farther away from the mistletoe. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had just broken into merry song; Harry and Ron were trying to drag Percy down the stairs and into the family room, with little success, because, apparently, Percy had 'important Ministry business' to deal with. Charlie had come home for the holidays, and Lee Jordan was visiting. Lee had just finished transforming Charlie's long red hair into dread locks, which, I had to admit, looked wicked.
Sipping my butterbeer, I thought of Draco much as I knew Ginny was thinking of Harry beside me. I wondered how he was faring, with Pansy. I knew that, at one point, they had been a couple, and I felt more than a small twang of jealousy in my heart. He loved me, I was sure, but Pansy was easy, accessible, and could be considered relatively beautiful. No, not beautiful, but definitely pretty.
Yes, my thoughts were similar to those of Ginny. She was wondering what Parvati had which she lacked; if Harry ever could or would love her, and what it was he meant to bring about by asking her to meet him in the first hour of the new year in her attic.
***
Some fucking merry Christmas this had been. Lovely new year as well. I hadn't eaten in days. My fingers had grown pale and knobbly, my stomach caved in, and I could feel the hollows in my cheeks. Every day Father had come down and asked me if I was ready to give in; each time, I had calmly told him no.
I was beginning to doubt myself. She was a mudblood, she wasn't incredibly beautiful, she was emotionally unbalanced, and she was a Weasley and Potter lover. Her kisses were sweet but there was no chance of bedding her—her morals were too high, and everyone knew that Malfoy and morality never went hand in hand.
Despite all of this, in some way unfathomable to myself, my family, and my ancestors, I loved her.
I knew that by loving her I was putting her life in jeopardy—and yes, my own. I had always been selfish, no point in denying it, and what good was it to love if you were dead? From the viewpoint of the hero, how on earth could I put her at risk?
So, I reasoned, for I had much time to do so, why not strike a bargain. Most definitely a bargain with the Devil, because who was closer than Voldemort himself? I would give in tonight, when my father came, only if he would promise to spare her life and my own. Voldemort would have to promise to keep anyone from harming her. Then I would give in, I would take her amulet, I would give the Dark Lord eternal life, I would go back to being a Malfoy and doing what Malfoys did best: killing.
***
I twisted my red locks nervously and bit my lips to make them redder; not that it mattered, the night was full now, the lights were dim, and Fred had stolen his glasses. I put my hair up, I took my hair down, I pushed my skirt up, I tugged it down, I adjusted my shirt, pinched my cheeks, held my breath, and heard the attic door creak open.
"Gin? Are you up there?"
"Harry?" I whispered his name reverently.
Then the stairs were groaning and creaking under his weight and God himself was standing before me, smiling.
He held his hand out to me and I took it, allowing him to pull me up swiftly, so that my breath caught in my throat and the momentum thrust me up against his chest. I knew it was wrong; he was taken, I was young, naïve, innocent, you name it. But for so long I had wanted him, yearned for him, and here he was, before me, for me alone, and what could I do but snatch him and hold on?
His arms snaked behind my waist as he drew me closer, his head buried in the apple-blossom scent of my hair, the back of his thumb grazing up and down my spine, sending delicious shivers throughout my entire body.
But I couldn't do this. I couldn't do this to myself, to Parvati, to Harry.
"Harry?"
He pulled away a little and I clung to him. "Ginny…" He murmured. He would have to make things difficult. Relishing for one second longer in his soft touch, his soft voice, I melted, then, albeit somewhat reluctantly, pulled away.
I raked my fingers nervously through my long, deep red locks, beginning the only way I knew how. "Listen, Harry…" I paused and I saw him look up in shock. He really thought he could just have me like that. "This" I waved around us, and at each other, "simply isn't working. You know I like you. That's a fucking understatement. But…" How did I put it? "you're committed to someone else and I'm not satisfied being some girl you come to for your pleasure on the side. It just doesn't cut it for me, emotionally." I stepped aside and headed for the stairs.
It took him a minute, because he had thought I would be that easy, and then he had dashed after me, pulled me around, and drug me back to where we had been before.
"Ginny, I never meant…" but I could tell he couldn't continue, not really.
"What did you mean, then?"
"I-I…Listen, you're a beautiful girl. Over this past year, Christ, you've got to be one of the most beautiful girls in school. I guess I finally noticed." He let out a small laugh, and while I liked, loved, hearing him call me beautiful, it wasn't what I wanted, and he had caught on. "But that isn't what you want to hear, is it?" I shook my head remorsefully. "You just…really confused me. I was perfectly happy with Parvati. She helped me through one of the toughest periods of my life, and I love her for it. She's pretty, but she doesn't adore me, and she isn't gorgeous, and she, well, you…"
"Listen, Harry, you know how…" suddenly it was hard for me to choke out, to repeat shamelessly, my feelings for him. I had said it so many times. "Once you've really made up your mind, why don't you come talk to me? I can't bear to deal with this until then."
He nodded, and I turned towards the stairs. I had gone down three steps when I had an overwhelming sense of loss. This was my chance. I looked at him, looking at me, took another step, let the tears come, and then, before I knew what I was doing, I had run back up the stairs and into his arms, and he was rocking me back and forth and everything was alright.
***
"So what'll it be, Draco? Are you ready to give in, yet?" I could hear his sneer of a voice through the iron grating.
"Father. I've reached a decision. It doesn't really matter whether you agree with it or not, I'll need to speak to Master, too."
There was a pause as I heard him take in his breath. "Does this mean you concede?"
"Not exactly…"
"What then, boy?"
"I agree, but on certain terms. I will not deny my love for her, however, I will suppress it, I will retrieve the amulet for the Dark Lord, I will fulfill my duty as a Malfoy."
"Wonderful. The feast is still warm." I could hear the keys clanging.
"I'm not done."
I heard him swear and the noise from the keys dwindled.
"I only ask that her life be protected, that no dark wizard be allowed to kill her, even though she is a mudblood. I ask that my life, too, be spared, and may you rest assured that I will use it to further the Dark Lord's power."
I could practically feel my father's shrewd mechanism, labeled brain, processing all that had been said. "So you promise to bring us the amulet, devote your life to us, if we will only pardon you of your sins and restrain from killing the mudblood?"
"Yeah, that's all."
"I will have you released and taken to your room. Food, a warm bath, and clean robes will await you. In an hour, we will discuss matters with the Dark Lord."
"So soon?"
"He is paying us a visit. It was to be your death, however, boy, you may impress us yet." The keys jangled once more, and the door swung open. My father levitated me, and took me to my room, where he dumped me in a bony heap on my bed and went to prepare the Dark Lord's arrival. In the depths of my soul I felt something fight, I felt sick, I knew I had done my conscience wrong. I knew my duty, I reviewed my life, and the burning ember called Hope died within me. I was committed Death Eater for life.
Voila! I hope there aren't too many mistakes…I don't have a beta reader, so all corrections are my own and likewise may not be the greatest. PLEASE REVIEW!