Bound
By Angel Of Music

Chapter Fourteen: The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
And sorry I could no travel both
And be one traveler long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth

Then took the other as just as fair
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear
Though as for that, the passing there
Had worn them really about the same

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black
Oh I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way lead onto way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by
And that has made all the difference

-Robert Frost, The Road Not Taken

Blaise,
I'll always remember the words that left my father's lips every time I'd tell him, 'no.' He'd turn his spiteful head my way, scoff, and promise me that frailty was not an option. Perhaps this is what I've lived by: the fact that having a fracture in my brittle emotions was wrong. I can live my life dreadfully, and trust him, or I can finally give into my own power and die. It seems as if either way, I lose. What about this is fair?

But when you told me that you'd admired Draco Malfoy, I was genuinely broken. I have realized that he is gone now, and that whoever it is that now inhabits my skin is a cordial man. Quite frankly, I do not like him. Is it possible to be one's own enemy? Blaise, you were right all along. You are perfectly available. You are just before my eyes and yet I blindly followed a stupid fantasy that tantalized my infantile self. I want the recurring Draco back. I want to see myself back in the place I used to be, when I could gracefully insult any coming aggression, fall laughing to the floor at attempted insults, be mightily crushed under the influence of my father. Perhaps he will return to me if I destroy Granger.

I have never told anyone the following item before, and you should be honored that you are the first. I felt it appropriate to tell you. You may be the only person I know with some real strength left; I admire it. I never got the chance to tell you that you have been ultimately responsible for any normal attitude that I've had this year, and so I thank you. But as I continue, you must realize that all along I've simply been confused. If it hadn't been for a pathetic little bond, either I'd be deceased, or completely sane again. Maybe, if it were not for the fact that I had been saved from dying by Granger, I'd be happier. And so would you.

I am slowly withering away. I can show myself that I have strength and some Slytherin heartlessness left by just killing Granger. Many moons ago, before Christmas, I had been fully prepared to kill myself. In fact, I had nearly done it, when Granger came and stopped me. And now, we share this bond. The books read that I must break the bond before I die. But I have found a loophole. If I destroy Granger, it will be as if the bond never existed. I shall never have to repay her the debt I never intended to have. Understand this, Blaise. Perhaps you were being harsh by bringing me to the Fredcooks. Perhaps you overreacted. You'd think I'd be furious. But no, for some strange reason, the feeling that has been haunting the pits of my stomach had melted away, and I feel as if I am alive again. When I realized that killing Granger was the most obvious option, I felt like I was Draco Malfoy again.

So you can go back to admiring me now. The task is as good as done. I shall murder Hermione Granger.

-A rejuvenated Draco Malfoy.

Blaise Zambini's dark ruby lips twisted themselves into a perfectly evil grin as she clenched the parchment in her fist. He had taken the path that she wished for him to, and the road not taken was slowly winding it's way behind her. Her deathly smirk still plastered onto her face, she lifted herself from the emerald couch, aroused by the total darkness of the room. Besides the three or four candles lit, and the dimly flickering fireplace, it was pitch black in the room, and more sullen and cold than it had ever been.

Not standing the nonsense of being afraid of the blackness, she blew out all but one candle with an elongated exhale, and threw a small canister of water onto the already dying fire. Pulling off her black cloak, she revealed herself to be wearing an intricate silver, velvet dress, tied tightly down the front, with long, belled sleeves. It was a very beautiful dress with forest hemming, and were it not for her size, she may have looked like a snake if one viewed her quickly. She glided over to an oak table, drawing out a piece of parchment and sitting near the lit taper candle.

Dear Father,

She began to write harshly in a penmanship that wound delicately about the surface of the parchment.

Everything is in order, just as planned. Draco is just now off killing that stupid Granger girl. Perhaps, if all goes well, may I ask your permission to wed him? I certainly think that he has changed, and he is back to being Draco Malfoy now. But should I explain to him that my identity is all a facade? For if I do not, I shall never be able to marry him. I know that being pretentious is what I am all about, but I beg you, at least let me admit to him who my real father is. The ignorant fool believes that my parents are dead, the silly man. I shall await your reply with Nagini. I've been swiping my letters before Draco gets his when she comes, anyway. Simply keep sending her up my pipe.

With love,
Blaise Riddle.

With a fiery grin that could have melted a hail storm, Blaise sealed her letter and let out a horrifying cackle.
* * *
"Draco, no!" Hermione dove to the side just before the curse hit her. "What are you doing?" Draco looked into the desperate eyes of Hermione Granger.

"Never trust a Slytherin." He shrugged morbidly.

"I refuse to believe that with you, Draco! I thought you were different. I saw you. You were a new man with morals, and you didn't care what others thought. Are you telling me that you want to go back to being the sulky, evil boy that had to jeer at others for friendly approval? Is that what you really want to be?" He paused at this, his palms trembling violently. For a moment, it seemed as if he weren't going to even answer. After a minute, he stuttered,

"No, and yes. All my life I've wanted my father to respect me, and to treat me at least somewhat decently. All he ever dreamed of me being is right here in this room, and I if do this, I'll finally get my wish."

"But what about me?" She pleaded. "Wasn't I also once a wish of yours?" He considered this for a second, pondering her words.

"Yes, but you have not been one nearly as long as my father has. I cannot waste my entire existence because of a fling with some silly mudblood. If only you could understand. That would be a miracle. You know what would be even more spectacular? If I understood." He shuttered and twirled his wand in his fingers curtly. "I've realized that I have got things to live for, just like you said. I remember your precise words. You said I should live for 'Books, friends, and fun." He chuckled softly. "Of course, you, the seemingly most intelligent student, would put books first. Well I've got a book to live for." He reached slowly into his robes and drew out 'Debt by Death.'

"Malfoy, you're being inane. Just stop this right now. We will forget it ever occurred." She began to inch towards the door. He sighed heavily and pointed his wand at her.

"Petrificus Totalus." Hermione dropped to the floor in a full body bind. "I'm sorry I had to do that, Granger, but I couldn't let you just get away that easily. Can you speak?" She didn't try. She simply nodded. "Listen, Hermione. You were right. I have a lot more to live for then I ever expected. I'm sorry I ever doubted you." Calmly, as if reading a passage from a book, he whispered, "It's just- you're the road not taken. I could have chosen your path, and I'm sure that would have made all the difference, but I did not. I chose Blaise."

"Blaise!" She cried, trying hard to move. "What has she got to do with this?"

"Everything." Responded Malfoy, frowning. "She's the one who made me see clearly what I've become. In her words, a sap. That's right, I lost my brittle core and my soft underbelly was exposed. And so here I am, proving to not only her, but to myself, that I can be stronger then people tell me." He paused and stared at Hermione's petrified expression. "I'm sorry for all of this. But I realized, there's no point to this anyway. It was a dead end. My father could never know, my friends could never know, so why the hell does it matter?"

"Because you admired me, Draco, and I admired you in return." His cold expression fell.

"I know. And I'm sorry, my Hermione." Stopping for a moment as if to gather courage, he thrust his wand at her and whispered, "Avara Kedavara."
* * *
"It's midnight." She sighed aloud, complimenting her pale smile. Blaise lay sprawled across the rainforest sofa, smirking as the silver clock mounted on the wall struck twelve with a dozen fierce chimes. "He must have done it by now. And perhaps now he and I shall be free to do as we please." She ran a hand through her deep auburn hair and exhaled deeply. Standing, she stretched and headed towards the winding staircase.

Moments later, she found herself in front of the mirror in the powder room of the girls' dormitory, stroking a brush through her thick hair and grinning towards her attractive expression. She mumbled encouraging words to herself, content with the situation. Everything was in order, just as she had planned at the very beginning. She stared at her reflection for a minute, admiring her own beauty and reminding herself that Draco had fallen into her trap. She had him right where she wanted him.

With a sneer that could have broken the heart of a stoic man, Blaise Riddle exited the Slytherin common room and made her way to the deserted classroom to attend to Hermione Granger's dead body.
* * *
The curse flew from Draco's wand and hit Hermione directly in the stomach. He waited for a moment for her scream, but none came. In fact, nothing happened at all.

"Why didn't it work?" He questioned aloud. "It should have worked-" She sighed in relief, but before she could say anything, he had shouted the curse once more. And again, nothing occurred.

"Draco, hush." She started. "I know why it didn't function properly." Puzzled, he put down his wand and listened. "You can't do it because you care for me, as I care for you. The Avara Kedavara curse only works when sincerity is in order. You don't mean this. You don't want to do it, or else you would have been able to." He considered this for a moment. Perhaps she was right. He really didn't want to kill her, he just figured that it would lead to a better life.

"You're right." He whispered softly. He slowly muttered the anti-charm at her, and she was able to move again. Almost as if not knowing of anything else, Hermione sullenly walked over to Draco and embraced him passionately. "You're right." He repeated.

"What's this?" Came a harsh voice from the doorway. "Draco, you promised you would destroy this damned mudblood- what has gotten into you?" He stared at her for a moment, Hermione still in his arms.

"I can't kill her, Blaise. I- I love her." Hermione inhaled shakily, placing the back of her palm over her open lips.

"You love her?" She laughed, growing slightly uneasy. "That shouldn't stop you." He narrowed his eyes and stared at her.

"I couldn't do it if I tried. It's impossible." Blaise, looking murderous, pulled them apart and stepped before Draco, beginning to kiss him. She lured him with her seductive brush, and Hermione watched as he was pulled into her lure. It seemed as if Blaise had more persistence and power than they had though. Much more.

He finally managed to pull away, his brow furrowed in anger. "Don't you ever touch me." She rolled her eyes.

"Draco, I won't do a thing to you. It's your little girlfriend here that has the last word. Say your good-byes." From in between her bosom, Blaise drew out her wand, and thrusting it at Hermione, she yelled, "Crucio!" Before the curse could hit her, Draco dove in front of it. Not able to cry out, he fell to the ground in searing pain.

"How could you do this to him?" Hermione shouted at the astonished Blaise, taking advantage of the moment. "Take it off, right now!"

"Not until we get some things straight, mudblood. I was here first. I knew Draco ages before you. I'm tempted to strangle you right now with my own bare hands, because here he goes falling for some..." She trailed off, her eyes moving up and down Hermione's body. "Sluttish no blood. I've always been there for him, and suddenly you show up, with no charm, no looks, no true intelligence. True intelligence would be of the real world, not something from some snobby textbook. And I've got all of those things; everything a Slytherin cherishes. You sicken me, and so does he.

"All he had to do was kill you. It was Voldemort's orders, anyway. But no. Of course he couldn't, because he loved you." She stopped for a moment, indicating towards the limp body twitching upon the floor. "I've admired him since I was seven years old. And finally the moron realizes it, and of course now it's too late." She frowned, cutting off the curse. Draco lay panting on the floor. "So since he's too weak to kill you, I'll do it myself. You'll pay, mudblood." Hermione rushed to Draco's side and cradled his head in her arms. He was wheezing, and attempting to acknowledge her presence.

"Then kill me. But I will only die as a martyr." She swallowed and stood, Draco clinging to her leg. "Draco, let me do this myself." It seemed sensible, but he did not give in that easily. He tried to stand, but his knees gave out and he simply fell back down.

"You could have died either way, Granger, but let's do it my way." She sneered and shouted, "Avara Kedavara!" Hermione saw the curse coming and dodged it. She quickly drew out her wand, pointed it at Blaise, and screamed,

"Expelliarmus!" Blaise's wand flew from her hands and landed in Hermione's palm. Blaise was inhaling angrily.

"You stupid little bitch!" She screamed, hysterical. Her auburn hair was knotted and tangled, plastered to her perspirating face. She jumped slightly as she said this. "It's a good thing I put a sound spell over this room, too, or you'd be saved by your little caretaker, Filch. But no one can hear anything. You can scream, and no one will come to help you."

"I beg to differ, Blaise. You're the one who needs help." Pointing her wand at Blaise, she shouted, "Stupify!" But before the curse could hit her, a loud crash sounded, and she was gone.

Frightened, Hermione jumped before Draco, embracing him tightly. "I don't know where she went." He coughed.

"Don't worry." Reassured Hermione. "Wherever she did go, I'm sure we'll find her." She paused and then looked down at him. "Why was it, that if she claims she loves you, that the spell hit you?"

"Because it was aimed at you." He told her. "If it weren't, I don't know what would have happened." But before he could continue, she put a finger to her lips, just as he had done earlier and hushed him.

"Thank you, Draco. For everything." He weakly smiled up at her, trying hard not to show her that he knew the worst was to come.
* * *
Author's Note: I had a lot of fun writing that chapter _ . Yes, that seemed like the end, but it was not. Chapter fifteen will probably be out by the Twenty-Seventh or Twenty-Eighth, but possibly earlier. If I get time, I will try to finish it by Thursday. Thank you for all of your support. I anticipate my next chapter shall be out shortly. Thanks a bunch!
-Angel Of Music.