Bound
By Angel Of Music

Author's Note: Firstly, thanks to all my reviewers so far. You guys have been a true inspiration on my path to writing this fic. You're the best! Next order of business, maybe you've seen it in my account, but I began to re-write a fic that I had written in the past. It's entitled, "Memories of the Future." It is something I completed quite a while ago, but decided I wished to re-write it. It has one of the most interesting plots I've ever come up with: it's something very original and nothing like what's on the net (that I know of _). So if you'd like to take a look at that, I'd be very appreciative. One last thing: the humongous change of plot does not occur until the last chapter, so don't be surprised if it takes a bit of time. I'm hoping to finish re-typing that fic in 2 weeks. Thanks for your time. There's more info about "Memories of the Future" written in just before chapter one. Ciao!

Chapter Thirteen: The Choice

The letter fell from his fingertips as fast as a letter could, drifting downwards and finally landing on the balmy tile below his feet. As if trying not to retain what he had just read, he glanced into the mirror again, staring menacingly at his perspirated face. He did not take his eyes from the reflection before him for a moment, deeply thinking about himself and where was the wrong turn he had taken. Slowly, he bent down and swept up the parchment, tucking it safely into his cloak and gliding hastily out of the room.

It was immoral. He couldn't do anything of the sort. Contrary, however, he did not wish to end up such as that man had; being killed for...not killing. He inhaled shakily, and suddenly her scent was caught in his nostrils. That wonderful fragrance of rose oils and daisies: she smelled just like the field of flowers had in his daydream. He gazed about hopefully, as if to spot something there that would solve his problem, and when he found nothing, he fell silently onto his bed. For a moment, he stared up at the emerald cloth canopy, his eyes fixated upon the silver serpent dancing it's way across the stitching. It was so evilly beautiful, almost unattainable, and for some twisted reason, Draco was reminded of the image he had seen that night in the forest. Something about this seemed incorrect to him.

He stood after a moment, figuring there was nothing else he could do, and exited his dormitory, finding himself upon a warm armchair before the fireside. He inhaled the thick scent of ash, and concentrated. Suddenly, yet slowly, he felt his arm rising, his fist clasp around the silver chain about his neck, and his thoughts begin to mutter.

"You must kill the girl." He heard a voice echo, making his stomach acids dance. "You understand this? Without the girl dead, you are nothing. Remember, she is just a silly little mudblood. You don't understand anything, Draco. But know this: you will kill the girl. He felt his eyes roll back into his head, softly stopping after a moment. It was as if he could see into his thoughts. "Draco, you must kill her. For if you don't, there will be a price to pay."

"A price to pay." He repeated, intoxicated. "I understand." Draco Malfoy felt a large thud from below him, and his eyes shut slowly as his cold body hit the floor.
* * *
The darkness that surrounded him was deep and looming, like staring into a black ocean. Only he was not surrounded by waves, but by whispers, unclear and mostly inaudible. He opened his eyes; they were crusted shut and did not seem like they had been open for ages. He wasn't sure of his location; the only thing he was sure of was that he was not alone.

His vision was foggy, most like his thoughts. He couldn't seem to understand anything that was occurring around him, and this truly frightened him. As his sight began to clear, he heard specifically the cold voice of Blaise.

"Blaise-" He called. She answered him by grabbing his palm.

"Draco," She began, with a waver to her tone. "I thought I'd lost you."

"What happened?" He asked, sitting up. His surroundings still remained unfamiliar.

"I don't know. You kept reciting something silly, over and over again. Something about Granger-"

"Granger?" He asked solemnly. "My God! What day is it, Blaise?"

"Friday. It's been a week since you've been here."

"Friday! Dear God, a week's gone by already? If I don't get back to reality soon..." He trailed off as he noted Blaise's expression.

"Don't worry, Malfoy. We'll get you back. But savor where you are for a little while; don't jump right into things.

At this comment, Draco attempted to look about, but his vision was still slightly misty. "Then where am I?" He questioned, holding tightly onto her trembling palm. Her eyes widened as she ran her thumb down his knuckles gently. She caressed his hand softly, calming him a bit. But his expression must have still been uneasy, for Blaise stared at him with bother.

"Can't you recognize it?" She admonished, her expression slightly worried. He averted his eyes from the cheaply woven quilt that covered him onto the walls about him. They were painted a bromide salmon, and the thick carpeting was similar in tone. He was lain upon a white wicker bed in which was so tiny that his arms and legs hung from the side. "You're at the house of the Fredcooks. And look-" She began, a cruel smile beginning to form on her lips. He had been lying in the little girl's bed.

"But, how did you...you didn't know...Blaise, what is the meaning of this?" He bit his lip in wonder. Had he said something in his sleep about the Fredcooks? Certainly she would have been more open if he had. After a moment, her red eyes focused on his pale gray ones, penetrating his gaze with hers. It was the most malicious and malignant look he had ever seen her give, and the evil that shone through her stare was palpable. Her scarlet pupils glittered with pride and sinister, black hearted malevolency.

"Perhaps I'm not as benign as you believed me to be." She looked upwards, grinning ruthlessly. "Draco, Draco, Draco. Did you think that I was that idiotic? That is, I am a Slytherin, aren't I? And Slytherins are of course, quite persistent. We're cunning and bold- perhaps you underestimated me. Perhaps you thought you could simply take advantage of me." At this he tried to oppose, but her evil smirk broadened. "Did you honestly think that I could not see you were falling for that slut Granger?" She twirled an edge of the blanket between her fingers as she stood. "Well, quite frankly I had to stop it. I couldn't stand for you to love a stupid little mudblood, when I am perfectly available. Look into my eyes!" She suddenly shouted. "What do you see?" She asked, pulling her face but inches from his.

"I don't see Blaise, that's for sure." He sputtered.

"Well, what DO you see?"

"Evil." He put curtly after a moment. "I see evil."

"Very good, Malfoy. So you've finally figured me out. Of course, I had to spell it out for you, didn't I? I mean, perhaps you are the moron I always thought you to be."

"But I thought- that is, you told me you admired me."

"Hmm." She considered, running a hand through the shining hazelnut hair atop her head. "That I did. But of course I did. When you hated mudbloods. When you knew me best. When you were Draco Malfoy. But what are you now? A sap. A worthless, cheesy sap like from a story tale. Prince saves princess, knight rescues lady- Ugh! You're so cliquè. Incredibly predictable. I mean, I should have known you'd be so impotent. It should have been carved into my damned thoughts. But no! I so blindly went on admiring you, thinking you were simply wonderful, when your eyes were set on Granger the whole time. And is this fair? Of course not. But that's the way the world works, yes?" Draco stared at her, then after a minute, nodded.

"So I'm not a death eater. And the problem with that is...? I still have the right to kill you in any possible way, because that's the way the world works." She drew out her wand from her midnight robes and fiddled with it for a moment. "But I won't. I'll give you a choice. Either you choose your life, or Granger's life."

"Excuse me?"

"My God, you are ignorant. Why do you think Nagini came up your drain the other night? She usually comes up mine, you dimwitted idiot."

"So?" She rolled her eyes.

"No wonder you're failing half your classes, you're as dumb as a sack of potatoes. I sent her up your drain, stupid, after reading that letter. I've been doing it with most of your mail. Don't think I didn't see what Voldemort told you to do. If you don't kill Granger, you're as good as dead. And don't think your father will cover for you, because I'll get to you before Voldemort does. The second I find you are sparing that despicable mudblood's life, your life is in my hands." He shuttered.

"But there is another option."

"Continue..." He nodded. Her smirk was growing broader by the second.

"You kill the mudblood, and stay with me."

"Stay...with you?" She raised her eyebrows.

"Mmmhmm. Seems fair, doesn't it? Well make your choice, Malfoy. Your life, or hers?"

"Can I just ask one question? When did you figure it out? About Granger and I, that is."

She heavily sighed and massaged her temples, as if not wanting to think about it. "Eh, the day she tutored you. You might as well have just kissed her right there, it was so obvious. I followed you to the library. I don't know why, really. Just a girl's instinct." She frowned and furrowed her brow. "Satisfied? Why don't you just make a freaking choice already." He pondered for a moment, too many thoughts swimming through his mind to think straight. "Slow as molasses." She muttered dreamily.

"But, how did I get here?"

"With a little help from your father. When I told him you were doubting your position, he immediately swept me to wherever I wished to go, and I brought you with me." She paused, as if looking for something more to say. Her ruby lips slightly ajar, she began again, "It's a good thing I found you when I had. Otherwise, you would have ended up in that godforsaken infirmary, and hell knows how I would have taken you from there." Shrewdly, she smiled at him. "Well it has been a week, Draco. This is your last day before someone dies. It's either you, or that no blood Granger that you've hated all your life."

"Why are you doing this to me?" He asked, trying with difficulty to stand. She exhaled, slightly annoyed.

"Because you mean a lot to me, and I hardly want to see that wasted on a great mudblood like Granger. Now are you quite finished with questions? I'm growing impatient."

"Well!" He commenced with a bit more force. "This sort of isn't your every day decision. Give me a minute." She frowned and leaned against an oak dresser, signaling for him to continue his thoughts.

"You wanted to die before." One voice said in his ear. "Might as well try again. What is it was you are really living for, anyway." Malfoy bit his lip.

"Kill off the girl!" Said another voice, "Remember how much you hated her? You can live your life free of any mudbloods. You can be all powerful! Stand up to your father! Show Lord Voldemort what you are made of! Teach the world a lesson! You needn't be tied up in the affairs of enemies. Let her perish, life will be good. You'll have Blaise." Slowly, he raised his head, trying to block away the whispers in his ears.

"If I mean that much to you, why are you doing this?"

"BECAUSE you mean so much to me. I won't let you make this mistake. I won't let you be blinded by your own blindfold. Don't be sightless, Malfoy. Remember who your true friends are." Nodding, Draco closed his eyes.

"Then I've made my choice."
* * *
"Hermione." Draco told the worried girl before him. "I must tell you something."

"Certainly." She answered, her face still very concerned. "What's wrong?"

"Come with me." He led her grimly into a dark passageway. She took his hand and followed, frightened by his dark expression. He brought her into a small, scarcely lit classroom, his thoughts dancing as he focused his gaze upon hers.

"Draco, what's wrong?" She repeated sullenly. He shook his head and hushed her, illuminating his wand.

"There's a lot to say, yet I find nothing. Here." He reached into his robe pocket and drew out an attractive, raven rose. Wrapped about the stem was his silver chain, gleaming in the light shining from his wand.

"Why are you giving this to me?" She exclaimed promptly. "I can't accept this." He put a finger to his lips, again silencing her.

"I want you to have it." He pulled the chain off of the rose slowly, then wrapped it around Hermione's neck and clasped it shut. Against her pale flesh the charm looked astounding; it complimented her beautifully. She took it in her palm, clutching it as if to say something. "We have to say good-bye."

"Good-bye?" She questioned. "Draco, what do you mean? I don't understand."

"I know. I'll just make it simple. It's going to be hard for me, it's going to be hard for you. But this is it. After today, after these remaining moments, I'll never see you again." She raised her chin quickly.

"But why? What is going on?" She drew herself nearer to him, placing a palm on his white cheek and running the other through his thin hair.

"I'm sorry." He whispered softly. It had been one of the first times Hermione had ever heard Draco apologize. "This is just the way things are meant to be." He paused, and looked about. "Things are changing. And not for the better, I can assure you. I'm almost promising that Voldemort is getting stronger by the moment. He's attaining more followers, and harshly punishing everyone that does not agree with him. I faced hard truth, but I had to make a choice. And I will stand by it." He shuttered. "I understand that you went through a lot when you saved me, and for now, I'll thank you. But everything must come to an end now, bond or no bond."

"Draco, please. Just tell me what's happened, and I'll fix everything."

"It will be better this way. Things will be nearly normal again." He continued as if not hearing her. "And I suppose I'll get what I always wanted. If only things hadn't changed this year, I think saying good-bye would be much simpler." He shook his head. "I dunno why, but legacy must remain. I may have lost all my hope, but my pride is still intact." His eyes sparkled as she embraced him.

"You're talking madly. I don't know what's the matter, but we'll make it better, alright?"

"No, Hermione." He began, shutting his eyes and massaging his temples. "We won't." He fiddled for something in his robes. Then gradually, as if played in slow motion, Draco Malfoy drew out his wand, pointed it at Hermione, and muttered, "Crucio."
* * *