Bound
By Angel Of Music
Chapter Fifteen: Worry and Deception
"Despicable." Mumbled the creature that paced before him, scoffing. "Your deeds are far worse than anything I've seen in quite some time. Abandonment, that's simple. Punishment by death. Disobeying orders, easy. Punishment by death. But all this?" He questioned, shaking his head. "I find it hard to breath when I retain what you've done. I should deplore you. I should kill you." Draco winced as the Dark Lord brought his face merely inches away from his. "A mudblood, Mr. Malfoy? You'd think she'd be easy to do away with. But of course not, because of the bond. Because you love her." He paused, and looked at Draco's astonished expression.
"How did you discover all this, my lord, if I never told you?" He prayed his father didn't know.
"I have my ways." Voldemort snapped. Taking a moment to consider his words, he began, "Love is such a silly thing. If you want status, love is not an option. You are enthroned by hopeless admiration, and you lose all systematic knowing. Do you follow?" Draco deftly nodded, stifling his breath as he inhaled the night's air.
His father, once again in cruel, stoic behavior, had brought him into the hands of Voldemort, who had requested a private chat with Draco. And so here he sat, cold, bothered, confused, and frightened, praying to anyone who'd hear to keep Hermione safe.
It had been a week since Blaise had disappeared, and a whole week of paranoia and fright. She had not shown up for any of her classes, and it remained a mystery as to where she had gone and how she had gotten there. This was certainly not very reassuring, for if anything remotely strange went on at Hogwarts while Draco was gone, he was sure Hermione would inspect. And unfortunately, it seemed Blaise had more power than either of them truly imagined in the first place. Draco bit his lip and watched as the Dark Lord lowered his chin.
"I am truly disappointed in you, Draco. I've warned you before; you do not want to disappoint me." Reaching into his flowing, silver robes, Voldemort tore out his sleek wand, amusing himself with it's elegance for a moment. "You'll regret it." Shutting his eyes, Draco turned his head away, waiting for the blow of a gruesome spell to come. After a minute, when nothing came, he ascended his eyes again to see Voldemort ruthlessly shaking his head.
"Mr. Malfoy, you haven't yet given me a chance to say anything." Swallowing, he motioned for the lord to continue. "I feel as I should spare you, for it is in the interest of others who shall remain anonymous. This may come as a shock to you, I suppose, but someone who is very important to me has requested that you remain living. I should have killed you brutally, but for now, you are being let off. Of course, not without some punishment. That is, you still have not murdered that girl. The others have become extraneous now, for the main focus of your weakness is her. You must first eliminate the mudblood, then report to me. I shall give you until the end of the year; that is more than enough time. Then, at the commencing of the summer holidays, I shall have you wed."
"Wed?" Draco questioned, his grim eyes inspecting the sheerly powerful man standing before him. "To whom?" He managed to choke, now glaring down at his feet. This had been the last thing he'd been expecting.
"The very same whom spared your life, and I shall say no more. I will not await your approval. Through this marriage, I can make you more powerful than any mortal wizard. You will be very pleased."
*No, I won't be.* Draco thought madly. Hatred began to flow through his veins, and a strong desire to draw his wand upon Voldemort came over him. *Fool.* He began pondering roughly, a surge of pain and detest swirling throughout his body. *If love will make me weak, so it shall be. Perhaps he doesn't know what he is thinking.* Draco narrowed his eyes, his thoughts centering coldly on the Dark Lord. With a start, he stood.
"You are dismissed, Draco. But I expect your task shall be completed." Without answering, Draco dawdled over to his broom and kicked off into the bitter, cruel night's air.
* * *
It was nearly dawn when he returned to the castle, his limbs frozen with the algid chill that flooded the dank morning. His mind swam with haunting thoughts. The destiny the lie before him was grim indeed, and he could see no way out of it. Either way, with the death of Hermione or without, he would not win. He dwelled in thought for a moment as he entered the Slytherin common room, reflecting with overwhelming dejection Hermione's safety. He'd have to wait until morning to protect her, for there was nothing he could do now.
Although, he began considering, climbing the stairs to his dormitory, he did know where her common room was. And he had overheard what her password was. Unless they had changed it, he had access to the Gryffindor common room, if ever he required it. Halting mid-step, he pivoted and crept back out into the corridor.
His thoughts focused on Voldemort once more. His trust for people was diminishing quickly, for he felt there was no one left that was plausible. There were so many lies circulating throughout his mind that he began to grow slightly sick. He could never kill Hermione, let alone live with himself afterwards. Perhaps he should simply allow himself to perish, sparing her? It seemed the only sensible option, but again, without Draco, she'd have no one to look after her and advise her when Voldemort had a plan. It was true that she had Potter and Weasley, but neither of them could truly protect her from her own death. Draco frowned as he found himself in front of the fat lady and whispered, "Godric" at her.
"Waking me at such an hour." She mumbled, fluffing her dress poignantly. "Who are you? I've never seen you about before."
"Never mind that." He snapped, drawing himself into the common room as she swung open. He thanked the gods for keeping the password the same. Stumbling in, he immediately spotted Hermione, her pale face illuminated by the dim firelight, chewing on her nails and staring into a thickly bound book. His lips twitched in a relieved smile, slowly slipping up next to Hermione and sitting down. As she turned her head quickly to visualize him, she jumped, quite startled.
"What are you doing here?" She barked quietly.
"Making sure you are safe. Is everything alright?" She sighed and took his hand.
"Yes, everything is fine." She yawned. Draco idolized the way her thin lips parted as she placed her palm over them. Now all he could see in her was beauty, not the same Granger that he'd known for so many years. "Did you come all the way here to ask me that?" She questioned after a moment. Nodding, he replied,
"I wouldn't have been able to sleep if I didn't know you were okay."
"I'm fine." She repeated, pulling a scarlet afghan from the arm of the couch and placing it over their laps. She turned to him slowly, her elegant eyes growing wide with worry, and placed her head upon his shoulder. After a moment, she had fallen deeply asleep.
Draco ran his hands through her rough hair, which had been drawn up in a silver ribbon, and promised himself that he would never let her die. She was the only thing that was now precious in his life, and if she died, he too would slowly wither, his soul evaporating into the pits of hell, his judgment shriveling away, his sense of morality vanishing. He would not survive after her death, for he was weaker than he dreamed he was. All that he used to hope, all the sick pretensions he once played, all the gross cruelty he once desired; it was all gone. The once strong hatred of no bloods had lost it's forces, the wish of death upon them all was now tamable. Hermione had changed him, and though the situation seemed to contradict it, she had changed him for the better. He was free for the restraints of his father's wishes, although he still was pushed to obey them, but now he could at least feel that he was thinking clearly for himself, not for his father. For truly, wasn't that how he had spent the last 15 years dreaming? Like his father? He bit his lip and stared into the pith of the looming fire. Before long, his memories drew him too into a apprehensive muddle of sleep.
* * *
"What in bloody God's name is he doing here?"
"Right next to Hermione Granger!"
"I thought that girl had some sense."
"A Slytherin? This is madness."
"How did that great prat get in here?"
Both Draco and Hermione simultaneously woke to a mass of diffused whispers. Opening their eyes readily, they saw a crud of perplexed Gryffindors leaning over them, astonished at what they were seeing. Hermione blinked her eyes once or twice, taking in the absurdity of some of their notions, and drew the blanket from around her. She stood, stretching, and mumbled,
"Good morning everyone." This had not been the response they'd been awaiting. All at once, in an array of shouts, the Gryffindor common room burst into talk and rumor. Hermione shook her head and rolled her eyes, slightly annoyed that Draco had not left. This would, of course, require a load of explanation. Draco was still sprawled across the couch, apparently wishing to continue his sleep. After a moment, he too stood, and began to attempt to hush the common room.
"Don't worry." He mouthed at Hermione, whose face was crinkled in disappointment. "Hey! Gryffindors!" He shouted, waving his hands about. "I supposed you'd like some explaining to be done." They all hushed and nodded, synchronized. "Well, the thing is-" cut off by an annoyed gesture from Hermione, he stopped.
"I was giving Malfoy here some excess tutoring. Yes, I let him in. As you all know, he's dumber than a pile of sticks. I guess after so much effort with no progress, we simply both just fell asleep." The Gryffindors stared. The uncomfortable silence with dozens of eyes set upon them lasted for a few minutes, until they all broke off, muttering about how this was a much more boring truth then they had hoped. After they had scattered, Draco shot a dirty look at the sly sandy-haired girl.
"Dumb as a pile of sticks, am I?" He questioned, narrowing his eyes.
"It was just an excuse. I don't...really...think that."
"Of course not," He began solemnly. But after a second, he began to laugh. "You are a daredevil, aren't you?" He teased, smirking. "Telling the whole of Gryffindor a lie."
"Oh shuttup." She demanded, knowing very well that he was playfully jeering at her. It was then she noticed a pair of eyes stray towards her, staring. She turned to inspect the spectator, her expression morphing into one of worry when she spotted him. "Ron, I-" She took a step nearer to him, but he backed away upon his foot.
"Does he make you happy, Hermione?" Ron whispered after a moment of contemplating. She motioned for Draco to back away. Ron was maliciously grimacing at him, but she held him back.
"Ron, you know this is unfair." He stared at her angrily for a moment, and then began softly,
"No. I have a right to know. As your friend for 6 years, and as a sheer enemy of Malfoy, I have a right to know." She shut her eyes and exhaled sadly. There was nothing she wished less to be admitting to Ron than this. After a moment, she nodded.
"Yes, Ron. He does." She shook her head slowly and turned from him, exiting the common room. Draco followed close behind her, frowning. He met her in the corridor and sighed,
"Hermione, there's a lot that must be said. Apologies that must be made, promises that must be kept. If you wish to listen to me, that is." He paused, running a hand down her cheek. "I want nothing more than the best for you."
"What's wrong, Draco? What happened?" He fiercely rubbed his forehead with the tips of his fingers, stopping to admire her curiosity. She knew when something was different. She knew when something was wrong.
"Everything."
* * *
The evening fell upon them more slowly then either had hoped. It was frigid for a march night, though perhaps the darkness and the cold was simply an element in their minds. Both worried for each other that day when they could not be together, for it was morbid indeed. Draco entered the library promptly at five o'clock, quickly glancing across the room to spot Hermione. She say feverishly, biting her lip and staring at the door. When she watched him enter, her eyes lit up in relief.
"You're late." She told him, pointing to the twelve-pronged clock. He raised an eyebrow.
"I'm not." He answered sharply, indicating towards his own wristwatch. She frowned and leaned upon the table. "Forget about tutoring today, Hermione. There's too much to say." He began more seriously. She nodded and allowed him to continue. "I met with Voldemort last night. He informed me that I am still to kill you, my deadline the end of the year." Hermione swallowed and intertwined her fingers. "He then also told me that I am to be wed." He paused and looked up at the worried girl before him. "He knows about the bond. He knows about you and I. He knows everything." She gasped, and stared him straight in the eyes.
"But how?" She asked him, placing her hand upon her forehead.
"I don't know. But what I do understand is that someone spared me. Someone who wishes to marry me." He shook his head. "And this is why I still walk today. If I was not spared, I'd be worse than dead by now." Stopping to consider, he took Hermione's hand. "I won't hurt you. You needn't worry. Voldemort shall simply have to kill me." She closed her eyes and pondered for a moment.
"No." She said softly. "He won't."
"Excuse me?"
"No." She began more forcefully. "I won't let him. We shall fight Voldemort together. Hand in hand, side by side. And if we fail, we die as martyrs together. Not separately." He cocked his head in a questioning gaze.
"I'm afraid I don't understand."
"We must end the insanity of his rule once and for all. And together we shall do so." She took a seat next to him and put a hand upon his flush cheek. "We cannot allow him to keep dominating our world. We may be only sixteen, but we have power of our own." Beginning to perceive what she was saying, he nodded.
"But how will we do this?"
"We must spend these Fridays that we have together planning our attack." She told him quickly, as if not wanting to forget anything she was saying. She was growing excited with hope. "We will research all that we can on his weaknesses."
"Then," Continued Draco, catching on. "On the day in which I am supposed to kill you, we shall meet with him; find his whereabouts, and give him a surprise of our own."
"Yes." Grinned Hermione, a plotting smirk beginning to form upon her face. "We shall defeat Lord Voldemort once and for all."
* * *
By Angel Of Music
Chapter Fifteen: Worry and Deception
"Despicable." Mumbled the creature that paced before him, scoffing. "Your deeds are far worse than anything I've seen in quite some time. Abandonment, that's simple. Punishment by death. Disobeying orders, easy. Punishment by death. But all this?" He questioned, shaking his head. "I find it hard to breath when I retain what you've done. I should deplore you. I should kill you." Draco winced as the Dark Lord brought his face merely inches away from his. "A mudblood, Mr. Malfoy? You'd think she'd be easy to do away with. But of course not, because of the bond. Because you love her." He paused, and looked at Draco's astonished expression.
"How did you discover all this, my lord, if I never told you?" He prayed his father didn't know.
"I have my ways." Voldemort snapped. Taking a moment to consider his words, he began, "Love is such a silly thing. If you want status, love is not an option. You are enthroned by hopeless admiration, and you lose all systematic knowing. Do you follow?" Draco deftly nodded, stifling his breath as he inhaled the night's air.
His father, once again in cruel, stoic behavior, had brought him into the hands of Voldemort, who had requested a private chat with Draco. And so here he sat, cold, bothered, confused, and frightened, praying to anyone who'd hear to keep Hermione safe.
It had been a week since Blaise had disappeared, and a whole week of paranoia and fright. She had not shown up for any of her classes, and it remained a mystery as to where she had gone and how she had gotten there. This was certainly not very reassuring, for if anything remotely strange went on at Hogwarts while Draco was gone, he was sure Hermione would inspect. And unfortunately, it seemed Blaise had more power than either of them truly imagined in the first place. Draco bit his lip and watched as the Dark Lord lowered his chin.
"I am truly disappointed in you, Draco. I've warned you before; you do not want to disappoint me." Reaching into his flowing, silver robes, Voldemort tore out his sleek wand, amusing himself with it's elegance for a moment. "You'll regret it." Shutting his eyes, Draco turned his head away, waiting for the blow of a gruesome spell to come. After a minute, when nothing came, he ascended his eyes again to see Voldemort ruthlessly shaking his head.
"Mr. Malfoy, you haven't yet given me a chance to say anything." Swallowing, he motioned for the lord to continue. "I feel as I should spare you, for it is in the interest of others who shall remain anonymous. This may come as a shock to you, I suppose, but someone who is very important to me has requested that you remain living. I should have killed you brutally, but for now, you are being let off. Of course, not without some punishment. That is, you still have not murdered that girl. The others have become extraneous now, for the main focus of your weakness is her. You must first eliminate the mudblood, then report to me. I shall give you until the end of the year; that is more than enough time. Then, at the commencing of the summer holidays, I shall have you wed."
"Wed?" Draco questioned, his grim eyes inspecting the sheerly powerful man standing before him. "To whom?" He managed to choke, now glaring down at his feet. This had been the last thing he'd been expecting.
"The very same whom spared your life, and I shall say no more. I will not await your approval. Through this marriage, I can make you more powerful than any mortal wizard. You will be very pleased."
*No, I won't be.* Draco thought madly. Hatred began to flow through his veins, and a strong desire to draw his wand upon Voldemort came over him. *Fool.* He began pondering roughly, a surge of pain and detest swirling throughout his body. *If love will make me weak, so it shall be. Perhaps he doesn't know what he is thinking.* Draco narrowed his eyes, his thoughts centering coldly on the Dark Lord. With a start, he stood.
"You are dismissed, Draco. But I expect your task shall be completed." Without answering, Draco dawdled over to his broom and kicked off into the bitter, cruel night's air.
* * *
It was nearly dawn when he returned to the castle, his limbs frozen with the algid chill that flooded the dank morning. His mind swam with haunting thoughts. The destiny the lie before him was grim indeed, and he could see no way out of it. Either way, with the death of Hermione or without, he would not win. He dwelled in thought for a moment as he entered the Slytherin common room, reflecting with overwhelming dejection Hermione's safety. He'd have to wait until morning to protect her, for there was nothing he could do now.
Although, he began considering, climbing the stairs to his dormitory, he did know where her common room was. And he had overheard what her password was. Unless they had changed it, he had access to the Gryffindor common room, if ever he required it. Halting mid-step, he pivoted and crept back out into the corridor.
His thoughts focused on Voldemort once more. His trust for people was diminishing quickly, for he felt there was no one left that was plausible. There were so many lies circulating throughout his mind that he began to grow slightly sick. He could never kill Hermione, let alone live with himself afterwards. Perhaps he should simply allow himself to perish, sparing her? It seemed the only sensible option, but again, without Draco, she'd have no one to look after her and advise her when Voldemort had a plan. It was true that she had Potter and Weasley, but neither of them could truly protect her from her own death. Draco frowned as he found himself in front of the fat lady and whispered, "Godric" at her.
"Waking me at such an hour." She mumbled, fluffing her dress poignantly. "Who are you? I've never seen you about before."
"Never mind that." He snapped, drawing himself into the common room as she swung open. He thanked the gods for keeping the password the same. Stumbling in, he immediately spotted Hermione, her pale face illuminated by the dim firelight, chewing on her nails and staring into a thickly bound book. His lips twitched in a relieved smile, slowly slipping up next to Hermione and sitting down. As she turned her head quickly to visualize him, she jumped, quite startled.
"What are you doing here?" She barked quietly.
"Making sure you are safe. Is everything alright?" She sighed and took his hand.
"Yes, everything is fine." She yawned. Draco idolized the way her thin lips parted as she placed her palm over them. Now all he could see in her was beauty, not the same Granger that he'd known for so many years. "Did you come all the way here to ask me that?" She questioned after a moment. Nodding, he replied,
"I wouldn't have been able to sleep if I didn't know you were okay."
"I'm fine." She repeated, pulling a scarlet afghan from the arm of the couch and placing it over their laps. She turned to him slowly, her elegant eyes growing wide with worry, and placed her head upon his shoulder. After a moment, she had fallen deeply asleep.
Draco ran his hands through her rough hair, which had been drawn up in a silver ribbon, and promised himself that he would never let her die. She was the only thing that was now precious in his life, and if she died, he too would slowly wither, his soul evaporating into the pits of hell, his judgment shriveling away, his sense of morality vanishing. He would not survive after her death, for he was weaker than he dreamed he was. All that he used to hope, all the sick pretensions he once played, all the gross cruelty he once desired; it was all gone. The once strong hatred of no bloods had lost it's forces, the wish of death upon them all was now tamable. Hermione had changed him, and though the situation seemed to contradict it, she had changed him for the better. He was free for the restraints of his father's wishes, although he still was pushed to obey them, but now he could at least feel that he was thinking clearly for himself, not for his father. For truly, wasn't that how he had spent the last 15 years dreaming? Like his father? He bit his lip and stared into the pith of the looming fire. Before long, his memories drew him too into a apprehensive muddle of sleep.
* * *
"What in bloody God's name is he doing here?"
"Right next to Hermione Granger!"
"I thought that girl had some sense."
"A Slytherin? This is madness."
"How did that great prat get in here?"
Both Draco and Hermione simultaneously woke to a mass of diffused whispers. Opening their eyes readily, they saw a crud of perplexed Gryffindors leaning over them, astonished at what they were seeing. Hermione blinked her eyes once or twice, taking in the absurdity of some of their notions, and drew the blanket from around her. She stood, stretching, and mumbled,
"Good morning everyone." This had not been the response they'd been awaiting. All at once, in an array of shouts, the Gryffindor common room burst into talk and rumor. Hermione shook her head and rolled her eyes, slightly annoyed that Draco had not left. This would, of course, require a load of explanation. Draco was still sprawled across the couch, apparently wishing to continue his sleep. After a moment, he too stood, and began to attempt to hush the common room.
"Don't worry." He mouthed at Hermione, whose face was crinkled in disappointment. "Hey! Gryffindors!" He shouted, waving his hands about. "I supposed you'd like some explaining to be done." They all hushed and nodded, synchronized. "Well, the thing is-" cut off by an annoyed gesture from Hermione, he stopped.
"I was giving Malfoy here some excess tutoring. Yes, I let him in. As you all know, he's dumber than a pile of sticks. I guess after so much effort with no progress, we simply both just fell asleep." The Gryffindors stared. The uncomfortable silence with dozens of eyes set upon them lasted for a few minutes, until they all broke off, muttering about how this was a much more boring truth then they had hoped. After they had scattered, Draco shot a dirty look at the sly sandy-haired girl.
"Dumb as a pile of sticks, am I?" He questioned, narrowing his eyes.
"It was just an excuse. I don't...really...think that."
"Of course not," He began solemnly. But after a second, he began to laugh. "You are a daredevil, aren't you?" He teased, smirking. "Telling the whole of Gryffindor a lie."
"Oh shuttup." She demanded, knowing very well that he was playfully jeering at her. It was then she noticed a pair of eyes stray towards her, staring. She turned to inspect the spectator, her expression morphing into one of worry when she spotted him. "Ron, I-" She took a step nearer to him, but he backed away upon his foot.
"Does he make you happy, Hermione?" Ron whispered after a moment of contemplating. She motioned for Draco to back away. Ron was maliciously grimacing at him, but she held him back.
"Ron, you know this is unfair." He stared at her angrily for a moment, and then began softly,
"No. I have a right to know. As your friend for 6 years, and as a sheer enemy of Malfoy, I have a right to know." She shut her eyes and exhaled sadly. There was nothing she wished less to be admitting to Ron than this. After a moment, she nodded.
"Yes, Ron. He does." She shook her head slowly and turned from him, exiting the common room. Draco followed close behind her, frowning. He met her in the corridor and sighed,
"Hermione, there's a lot that must be said. Apologies that must be made, promises that must be kept. If you wish to listen to me, that is." He paused, running a hand down her cheek. "I want nothing more than the best for you."
"What's wrong, Draco? What happened?" He fiercely rubbed his forehead with the tips of his fingers, stopping to admire her curiosity. She knew when something was different. She knew when something was wrong.
"Everything."
* * *
The evening fell upon them more slowly then either had hoped. It was frigid for a march night, though perhaps the darkness and the cold was simply an element in their minds. Both worried for each other that day when they could not be together, for it was morbid indeed. Draco entered the library promptly at five o'clock, quickly glancing across the room to spot Hermione. She say feverishly, biting her lip and staring at the door. When she watched him enter, her eyes lit up in relief.
"You're late." She told him, pointing to the twelve-pronged clock. He raised an eyebrow.
"I'm not." He answered sharply, indicating towards his own wristwatch. She frowned and leaned upon the table. "Forget about tutoring today, Hermione. There's too much to say." He began more seriously. She nodded and allowed him to continue. "I met with Voldemort last night. He informed me that I am still to kill you, my deadline the end of the year." Hermione swallowed and intertwined her fingers. "He then also told me that I am to be wed." He paused and looked up at the worried girl before him. "He knows about the bond. He knows about you and I. He knows everything." She gasped, and stared him straight in the eyes.
"But how?" She asked him, placing her hand upon her forehead.
"I don't know. But what I do understand is that someone spared me. Someone who wishes to marry me." He shook his head. "And this is why I still walk today. If I was not spared, I'd be worse than dead by now." Stopping to consider, he took Hermione's hand. "I won't hurt you. You needn't worry. Voldemort shall simply have to kill me." She closed her eyes and pondered for a moment.
"No." She said softly. "He won't."
"Excuse me?"
"No." She began more forcefully. "I won't let him. We shall fight Voldemort together. Hand in hand, side by side. And if we fail, we die as martyrs together. Not separately." He cocked his head in a questioning gaze.
"I'm afraid I don't understand."
"We must end the insanity of his rule once and for all. And together we shall do so." She took a seat next to him and put a hand upon his flush cheek. "We cannot allow him to keep dominating our world. We may be only sixteen, but we have power of our own." Beginning to perceive what she was saying, he nodded.
"But how will we do this?"
"We must spend these Fridays that we have together planning our attack." She told him quickly, as if not wanting to forget anything she was saying. She was growing excited with hope. "We will research all that we can on his weaknesses."
"Then," Continued Draco, catching on. "On the day in which I am supposed to kill you, we shall meet with him; find his whereabouts, and give him a surprise of our own."
"Yes." Grinned Hermione, a plotting smirk beginning to form upon her face. "We shall defeat Lord Voldemort once and for all."
* * *
