A/N: I'm sorry it's taking me so long to get new chapters up…life is hectic, and since its been the holiday season I think my muse has been abandoning me off and on. But not to worry! I have broken a large boundary…if you look, you'll see that I never get past chapter eight with my other stories…then I get writers block and they end. Guess what? THIS IS CHAPTER NINE!!!
I hope you enjoy it, although it's definitely a tear jerker (and nowhere near the end), I'm sorry if it's a little short, and, as always, the only thing which belongs to me is the plot. J.K. Rowling is the genius who writes the real Harry Potter books. Thank you to anyone who supplied ideas and/or inspiration. And thank you all for reading this (the story, not the note)! Extra thanks and hugs for all my beautiful reviewers!!
DEFEATED WE RISECHAPTER NINE: I Could Be the First to Cry
I could see the livid muscles standing out on his arm, as his hand reached out and grasped my own, pulling me up. My heart began to race. What was I getting myself into? I knew I loved him…Oh, god.
The chilled night air whipped about my half-naked body. This boy had just ripped my robes off. Ripped my robes off…
I put up a hand to stop him.
Silver orbs met my own brown ones and they were infused with light. His touch became gentle, and he used the sleeves of my ripped robe to tie it securely around my waist. I had been frightened for a moment, frightened that I had mistaken this Slytherin for something more than his actual worth, that I had finally fallen prey as so many other girls had. For a moment I had felt elated, as my blood raced and the pounding in my ears became overpowering. I had felt scared, challenged, and I had been interested.
He stood back from me and seemed to be appraising. His eyes were tinged with coldness again. Then he had ripped his own robes off. Underneath was clearly the reason he had been made Slytherin Seeker—a lithe body, every muscle tense and in control, almost translucent in the moonlight. He ripped he robe again and stepped closer. His body was pressed up against my own and I felt him shiver. It was January; not a time to be out of doors and in nothing but the minimum necessities. Then he took his robe and wrapped us both in it; soon our bodies, so close together, were warming our very bones even as the wind howled around us.
We knew the spell to make it stop, but the howling was music to our ears; and in the distance we heard the werewolves cry; the moon was full and together we were content. If the world had tumbled down around us it would have been alright; we could have stood, unshattered in the bliss of our love. But the world didn't tumble that night.
Earth lay serene, as he whispered to me, talked. Beliefs; that night he was all about beliefs. I began to sense that he was slightly troubled—when he asked me what the ultimate of sacrifice for love was and I said death, I felt him tense. He asked me if I would die for the one I loved; I paused, but I knew there were many I would die for. And so I answered him, shaking serenity almost to the ground.
"What is life? And what is death? I…I would…"
Then he held me closer, and asked, "but what if you knew to die would be to die in vain?"
I pulled him to the ground and conjured up a mattress out of several twigs. "If you believed you could do more good to them by staying alive, if you believed there was more of a chance…I suppose then you wouldn't want to die, because then it would be stupid, wouldn't it? It wouldn't be an ultimate sacrifice. Does death scare you?"
"Yes." He whispered.
I couldn't help but laugh a little. I felt my leg slip in between his and told him we would always be opposites; it was life I was afraid of.
Then our conversation got lighter; we seemed to mutually agree that it would be better if we enjoyed ourselves and left the philosophizing to the philosophers.
"Have you ever been to a muggle theme park?"
I laughed. "Draco, I was practically a muggle for eleven years. Of course! Have you?"
He grimaced. "Unfortunately. I ate…disgusting crap…and then I went on a…roller coaster and I threw up and I couldn't use my wand to clean it up because we were around muggles all day so I stunk and I was dirty and bloody miserable!"
"Didn't anyone warn you about eating and roller coasters? Sheesh, sometimes wizards are uneducated in the silliest things!"
"Well, miss 'I know everything on this planet' some of us hold the belief that they are silly things, and therefore not worth knowing!" And before I could reply, he had lifted my hair out from under my head, was laying on top of me, and with a sly grin informed me,
"I've always wanted to braid a girls hair."
His stomach rested upon my chest, and his elbows were propped up on either side of my neck. He had brought a large strand of hair down over my face, thankfully covering most of my blushing face.
"Now how do I do this?"
I started to laugh, and spurted out, "Three—sections—(gasp)—interwoven…"
Soon he was laughing, too, the hair was dropped and tenderly brushed off of my face and he looked down on me and smiled the largest, most un-assuming smile I had ever seen his face wear. His eyes twinkled, and I laughed more, and he laughed and soon we were gasping for air.
"We've—started—the—laughing—dis—ease!" he splurted out, before choking on his own laughter and burying his face in my hair.
I wrapped my arms around him and we rolled onto our sides and the laughter began to ebb when we looked at each other and started all over again, with big, unattractive whoops of laughter.
I fell on top of him giggling and shoved my face on top of his own and gave him a sloppy and forceful kiss. The laughing began to subside but all seriousness had disappeared and he looked at me and I laughed again. Between kisses and laughter, we fell asleep, in each others arms wrapped in his ripped robe in the Astronomy Tower of Hogwarts Castle on a blustery January night.
***
What had started out strained and forceful, ebbed in worry and disguise, melted into unrestrained bliss, laughter, and sloppy kisses. And as I drifted off into my own cold oblivion, I heard my voice say to her ear 'I love you' and I saw a smile flit across her face. Then my eyes slammed shut and my plan fell apart as I fell asleep in the arms of the only person I loved.
It wasn't until some time later, when the moon was full and overhead, that I awoke. I turned my head slightly and saw her smiling even in sleep. All I wanted was to stay with her the whole night through. That simple luxury I was denied—judging by the position of the moon it was only a little after midnight, but I had to be up and off of Hogwarts grounds before any house elves were up to get in my way, which meant I probably had, at the most, three hours.
Lying there with her in the moonlight I marveled at the way the light danced upon the apples of her cheeks, the light fluttering of her eyelashes, her gentle stirring, the way she clung to me long after sleep had taken hold.
With slow, cautious movements I began to move gently away from her, writhing my arm out from under her, cursing lightly when I realized it had become completely numb due to the amount of time her body had lain on top of it. Then I drew my legs up and away and in one quick movement rolled off the mattress, quickly wrapping her in the robe so that the chilly night air wouldn't wake her. Then I crept up above her head and fumbled with the clasp to the amulet. Finally it came undone, and I carefully pulled it away, only to realize that it was my amulet, the one I had lent her for protection. Swearing under my breath I undid the other chain and removed it, taking in my grasp the actual amulet. Then I put mine back around her neck, and crept away from the bed, muttering two spells. The first one to block out the wind, because now that we were apart it's rhythms were nothing but cruel. Then I conjured several more blankets, and a set of Hogwarts robes, so that she would have something to wear when she awoke.
And then, I could have left. I could have summoned my broom and kicked off from the cold roof of Hogwarts. I could have been gone, I could have broken the ties I had and bound myself in loneliness. But all I wanted to do was crawl back under the covers and hide my face and tell her the next morning the royal mess I was in and have her tell me that it would all be alright, because she loved me. I crept closer, and as I got closer, close enough to hear her mellow breathing, I saw a small flash of silver. Then it was buried underneath her, on the ring finger of her left hand. The ring my father had sent to her for Christmas under my name. So that she could be followed, hunted, like an animal, like prey. I had to take that ring, it had to be gotten rid of.
So I did what I had wished to do. I crawled back in bed with her, and I coaxed her arm out from under the soft flesh of her body. I felt her stirring, and quickly I collapsed into a relaxed heap, praying she would think I was asleep. I took slow, deep breaths, and in a moment felt her hand push hair away from my face, and then intertwine with my own, and then her breath grew slow and her body relaxed. I lay for a good ten minutes next to her, telling myself I did so because I was being cautious. Then I took her hand and held it in my own, in the moonlight. The ring was tight on her finger. It wasn't going to come off easily. I tried easing it off. It didn't budge. The only thing I could think of was an enlarging spell, but there was so little ring and so much hand…it would be difficult to explain if in the middle of the night I had made her hand twice its usual size. I pointed my wand directly on the ring and hoped against hope that the spell was specific enough. "Enlargo!" even though I whispered my voice sounded harsh in the night. The ring grew gradually, but she was stirring again. It would have been much easier had she been Pansy, who slept like a rock and snored like a hippopotamus.
As a final adieu to 'Granger', to 'Mudblood', to the only girl I'd ever love, I put her entire finger in my mouth and sucked the ring off, causing her to smile in her sleep and even laugh a little; obviously this girl was one I could have, had I been able to stay, tickled to tears in years to come.
Then I summoned my broom and was about to leave when I remembered the need to help her with the entire situation by helping her to hate me. I didn't want her to be furious enough to come chasing after the Dark Lord or I, but I didn't want her to feel she knew me well enough (which she did) to know that I didn't want to be with Voldemort and didn't want him to have her amulet, and come chasing after me in burning determination, or her pure love. I had to crush her and make her feel like a fool, make her feel helpless. I only hoped that this time Ron and Harry would be there to help her out. I sat down with a conjured quill and piece of parchment and thought carefully. I would start by addressing her simply as…
Hermione,
I regret to inform you that my loyalties were tested, and that my loyalty lies most greatly with my left forearm and the Mark emblazoned there. I want you to know that I wasn't lying when I told you I loved you, when I told you I found you irresistibly beautiful, when I told you that you were the smartest witch I knew. But I want you to know that I will always be cold, I will always be ruthless, I will always have power as my mistress. So I thank you for the light you brought to my life for the last few months and I thank you for the amulet you brought to my Master. Rest assured that your life will be spared, and if you ever come to the realization that you are on the losing end of the battle and wish to cross over, simply come to my door and, since you have given us the token of world domination and an immortal Master, I am sure we can accept you within our circle even though you have a rather unfortunate blood line.
I hated how dispassionate my letter was. I knew better than to sign my name, because without a name she would have no proof that it had, indeed, been Draco Malfoy to take this amulet (which no one knew of) and that, indeed, Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater who worked for Voldemort. I scanned the parchment for fingerprints and had them removed, then placed the letter, rolled up and tied with a green ribbon, on the pillow where my head had lain. Then I mounted my broom, and only when I was in the air did I dare to look down on her. I watched as her form got smaller and smaller, and then I let myself go, I let myself mourn my loss, and shouted to her in the howling night, frozen in the air, shouted to her about how it was so unfair, shouted to her how much I loved her, yelled at her because my heart would have still been frozen had it not been for one lazy afternoon and a bloody girl in front of the Gryffindor portrait. It was then that I felt the wind sting my cheeks, and felt that they were wet. As the youngest in a long line of cruel, ruthless men and women, I very well could have been the first to cry.
A/N: So Draco's off to become the cruel Death Eater he had always wanted to be, and it doesn't look so glorious any more…Hermione is left in the Astronomy Tower fast asleep…how will events unfold when she wakes up? Will Harry and Ron be there? Will she be able to deal with Ron's reaction? All these questions (and more) will be answered soon, I promise! Please, please review (NOW)!!