Bound
By Angel Of Music
Chapter Seventeen: Fortitude From Empowerment
His face was dimly lit underneath the moonlight. He shivered violently as if ill, and clutched the rose to his chest, breathing heavily. Silence penetrated the thick darkness as Hermione put a palm to her forehead, thoughts rapidly flying through her mind. Draco remained solemn, his painfully emotional expression illuminated from the moon beams that shone from above the Forbidden Forest. Hermione stifled her breath now, biting her lip as she exclaimed in a nearly inaudible whisper,
"Yes." Draco's face still remained grim as Hermione ran to him and embraced him. He encircled her in the deep entwine, as tears began to fall quietly from her chin and onto the already very damp forest floor. She smiled up at him after a moment, and repeated, "Yes," more firmly this time.
"Then you must listen to me." He began after an elongated pause. "Tomorrow is the deadline: Voldemort instructed me to bring your corpse to him as proof of my crime. I'm apprehensive though- I figured he'd be able to sense it, but..." He trailed off, glancing at Hermione's fretful expression. "Don't you worry, I've got a plan."
* * *
She brushed a damp lock from her forehead as she awoke, not bothering to glance around. Her head was rest upon something rather lumpy. She rubbed her eyes fiercely, suddenly sitting up and stirring whatever was underneath her.
"What time is it?" Came a groggy voice. Hermione gasped and flung herself around, momentarily letting out a relieved sigh.
"Draco." She acknowledged. She smirked slightly and looked about. She was surrounded by bleachers, and, noting the moist grass below her, she was upon the ground of the quidditch stadium. Mist was bellowing overhead as she looked up at the fresh June's sky, beautiful and periwinkle in the rising sun. "It's lovely, isn't it?" She whispered, slowly running her fingers through Draco's hair, trying to block away the fact that this could be the last puce sky she ever witnessed. He pivoted his head towards her, his breathing asphyxiated in the dense morning's oxygen.
"It's perfect." He mouthed, inaudible. After a pause he exhaled deeply, and, with his palm outstretched, caressed Hermione's pale, sullen face. "I want you to realize something, Hermione. I'm not positive this will make much sense coming from a prat that was once so blinded by power such as me, but this may be the only chance I've got to say anything of the sorts." He stopped for a moment to clear his throat. "I was raised to be stoic. I was taught to be emotionless and smooth. It is in the Malfoy nature to have no feeling, no sense of anything but cruelty. That's just the way it's always been, ever since the beginning of time; since the first Malfoy set his foot upon the earth. I reiterate that the chain of evil was endless, and it was unheard of that the chain be broken. I'd always thought I'd be part of the bromide string of Malfoys, and I was perfectly content with this fact. It excited me that I'd carry the legacy of one of the purest, longest lasting wizarding families of this world upon my shoulders. I wanted to be...bad, to put it simply. I strived for it. I fought for that privilege. But after that night, after you saved me from the impending doom of death, I've doubted all of that." He shut his eyes momentarily.
"I'm- I'm not sure I understand." Hermione coughed.
"You make me want to be a better person, no matter who my family or what my fate is." She glanced up at him, her chocolate eyes gleaming with gratitude.
"Do you mean that?" He weakly smiled, then nodded.
"As I've never meant anything before."
* * *
A lock of pale hair fell down her cheeks as she entered the Gryffindor common room, her expression promising anything but fortitude. Looking sparsely about, printing the image thoughtfully into her memory, she stared at the maroon emblazoned area, bustling with bromide students. A grin etched at her lips for a moment, when she retained times where she'd sat with Ron and Harry on the couch and conversed about sorcerer's stones, or polyjuice potions, or Sirius Black, or the third task, or finding a date for the Yule ball. Her gin widened as she thought of the ball. It was too bad it was only held during triwizard tournaments. It was a lovely tradition.
She halted her remembrances after a while, and began to attempt to locate her target. She took a second to search, until she spotted the nervous citrus-haired boy on the opposing end of the common room. She inhaled, her breath faltering, and made her way towards him.
His eyes focused downward as she approached him. The facade that he wore; the mask of enmity, it had been placed upon him and guilt was beginning to leak into Hermione's conscience. He exhaled and turned his fiery head away from her gaze. "Ron," She started after a moment. His response was another meek breath of air. "Ron, we can't go on like this. We can't hide anything from one another anymore; we can't just keep bickering like siblings-"
"Then you shouldn't be with Malfoy." Hermione frowned at this.
"And why not?"
"Because he's a bloody prat, that's why! An egocentric, bloody little prat. That's all he is and it's all he'll ever be, Hermione, don't you understand?" She slowly shut her eyes, bringing a thumb to her right temple and massaging it fiercely.
"You may believe that, Ron, and honestly, it's your decision to think so. But I don't, and for once can you accept that someone I admire may not be someone you very well like? It's a choice I've made. End of story. The End. Let's just drop it; put it all aside for now- put it all aside forever! I need you as my friend again." To Hermione's surprise, Ron scoffed.
"You've got everything now that you're with Malfoy. Don't lie." Her mouth was ajar as she gaped at the redhead, wide-eyed in hurt. "You don't need Harry or I anymore. All you need is that ferret with the crunchy blonde hair and the humongous self respect. Tell me something, are ferrets good kissers? Because you certainly seem to think so." Before it could hit either of them, Hermione brought her palm to Ron's face, leaving behind a fresh, incinerated hand-print upon his skin. He stared up at her, suddenly raising his hand to his lips.
"For your information, we have not done anything of the sort yet! I'm waiting to break that bond- and I'm afraid, Ron! Afraid he may not care for me anymore after that! I read that-"
"Hermione...I'm-I'm so sorry." Ron whispered, a sudden tear falling from his cheek. "I'm sorry." Hermione again closed her eyelids. With a steadily increasing movement, she nodded.
"I just want this to be over. The bond, everything."
"What bond is this?" She immediately locked vision with Ron's, her expression suddenly morphing into that of shock.
Oh that's right, she hadn't told him yet.
* * *
"So you and Malfoy are-" Hermione nodded, breathing heavily. "You're bound? I've heard about that from my dad." Shifting in a chair closer to Ron's, she said softly,
"And I'm frightened that's the only reason he admires me." Ron's jaw dropped swiftly, his eyes widening.
"He wouldn't need a bond to admire you. He wouldn't need anything at all." Her cheeks elevated into a weak smile.
"Thanks, Ron." He stood, she mimicking this. They stepped sullenly and silently away from the wooden table, and within a moment, Hermione found herself embracing her friend so tightly it was hard to breath. Or perhaps that was from the knot that seemed to have lodged itself in her throat. "I'll never forget you." She whispered to herself.
* * *
Hermione focused her gaze upon the extravagant wooden table as she thoughtfully chewed her last Hogwarts supper. She tried to ignore the fact that her lips were oscillating in a sheepish frenzy, making her clumsily drip some pumpkin juice down her front. Sighing, she held her breath as Ron took her hand beneath the table and smiled. Meekly returning this, she continued to lethargically swallow the warm meal, hardly bothering to notice it's homely tastes. After a moment of pondering curtly, she ran a hand through her hair and drew her palm back from Ron's. Taking a second to inhale, she quickly looked up with Draco, and their glances locked. Hermione nodded as Draco bobbed his head and stood. Following, she bid a good night to both Harry and Ron, not allowing them to notice a small, alien tear fall from the corner of her eye onto the cold stone floor.
She reached the exit before Draco. Standing silently for a moment, trying to hold back her sadness, she swallowed fiercely and grabbed at the silver necklace that had fallen across her chest. Embracing it in her palm, she shut her eyes as a weak grin met her lips. Though her confidence was sparse, she had Draco Malfoy.
She was brought to her senses as the great doors opened upon their frames, briefly startling her.
"Are you ready?" Came a shaky voice. Hermione looked up and raised her chin confidently.
"I certainly am." A concerned smile hit Draco's cheeks.
"And you retain the plan?" He asked, shifting his voice to a much softer tone.
"I certainly do." As she concluded speaking, Draco took Hermione's hand and raised it above their heads.
"Then let's do this."
* * *
A small light shone from below the thick trees. From the flickering quality of the dense shining, he guessed that his superior had most probably lit a fire. As he drew nearer, the crackling of cinders assured this, and his thought was confirmed. Hoisting the limp body that hung over his shoulders to fit more comfortably upon him, he dropped dramatically below the immense cluster of leaves. He felt Hermione Granger's lifeless hand smack against his chest as he suddenly swerved about a sharp turn, and finally landed upon the damp forest floor, flooded with undergrowth.
It was difficult to visualize the black-cloaked man sitting motionless by the dim firelight. His attire blended well with the dark surroundings, and the camouflage suited the figure well. Draco made his way over to the hooded man, an unnaturally mirthless smirk emblazoned on his lips.
"I've brought you the girl, sire. Once you talked me out of my sudden, non-sensible change of heart, I realized how perfectly simple it was to kill her." Lord Voldemort's eyes narrowed as Draco Malfoy spoke.
"Excellent." He hissed, his voice more snake-like then Draco had ever heard before. "And may I ask, how did you...trick...the girl?" Two crimson eyes suddenly shone from beneath the hood, then disappeared in a quick flash.
"What do you mean, my Lord?"
"What I mean, Mr. Malfoy, is how did you make the girl think that you truly loved her?" Draco swallowed, deeply wanting to take Hermione's body off of his back. When Draco did not respond, Voldemort snapped, "In the darkness, it's hard to see the girl. Bring her forth to me!" Biting his lip, the silver haired boy stepped forward, bringing his gaze downward. The hooded man, however, kept his fiery stare on the limp girl. "Yes." He started wryly. To himself, he muttered, "Very clever, Mr. Malfoy."
"What was that?" Draco questioned, his cold gray eyes now alert and upon Voldemort.
"I said, how very clever of you, Draco Malfoy." A headache pounding against his temples, Draco ordered,
"I do not understand."
"I mean to say that your methods are very tactical. Somewhat frivolous, but nevertheless tactical. I see you used Cruciatus? I can tell...her fists are curled in raw pain, that is obvious." Voldemort paced slowly around Draco, inspecting he and Hermione. "Amazing how lifelike one can be in death. It's a quality that almost always astounds me." Disgusted with Voldemort's facade of evil and plain ignorance, Draco coughed,
"It seems that you have approved of this, then." Voldemort pulled down his hood, and a broad smirk suddenly smashed upon his lips. Draco inhaled shakily as he noticed a large scar stretched across the dark lord's face, and in wonderment asked, "Where did you get that?" Voldemort's head violently pivoted to stare at the boy. Putting a finger to it, he whispered evilly,
"That is none of your business, boy. Throw that body upon the ground, now, for you are to be rewarded." Draco slowly nodded, but couldn't help but notice that the scar seemed to be growing larger with it's owner's touch. He shook his head to clear the thoughts, his heart pounding fiercely. He carefully knelt down and placed Hermione's weak body against a rotting stump, his expression twisting into one of determination. Standing again, he made his way over to the dark lord. "I am old, Draco Malfoy." He began after a long, uncomfortable pause. "I may not look it, but I am beginning to feel it everywhere. In my bones, in my blood, in my flesh; even in my thoughts. I feel as if I may not last very much longer." Trying to looked at least slightly concerned, Draco pouted. "But there is hope, I'll have you realize." As if wanting to continue, but not able, Tom Marvalo Riddle opened his mouth to speak, but no words escaped. Before anything else could be said, a loud stirring came from behind the fire, somewhere not far into the darkness. "Who's there?" Voldemort demanded. And then, dirty yet resolute, into the ring of light stepped Hermione Granger.
"Unlucky for you, my lord, Draco and I had a plan. And it seems a very good one, at that. You truly thought I had died, didn't you? And I thought you were supposed to be all knowing." She barked menacingly. Voldemort rolled his great scarlet eyes.
"Oh, no! Little Mudblood's back from the dead! I've predicted wrong! Whatever will I do?" He shrieked sarcastically. "Unfortunately for you, you silly little no-blood, I've known from the start that you were alive. I've seen better actresses on the bottom of my shoe." He laughed without levity. "So come, come off your feet and try and defeat Lord Voldemort. For that has been your plan all along, hasn't it? To kill me, and emerge triumphant? Go ahead, try it." He stood, his legs and arms spread widely, exposing his chest as if gesturing them to attack him. Both Draco and Hermione stood soundlessly, staring at Voldemort. "Must I be the one to initiate this?" He questioned after a moment. "Well, very well, if I must." He quickly drew out his wand. "According to your father, Mr. Malfoy, I hear that you're very bad at avoiding the Imperius curse. Let's try this, shall we?" He flicked his wand outward at Draco, and before the boy had a chance to dart away, he had shouted the curse.
"Bring your wand forth. Kill the girl. Kill Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy." A small voice in the back of Draco's mind demanded. He slowly reached into his robes, his fingers grasping around the thin, feeble object of so much consideration. As he aimed it at Hermione, he heard the distant cackle of Lord Voldemort, and the cry from the girl of,
"No, Draco! You can fight this!" And then the wand fell from his hand onto the ground.
"What's this?" Asked Riddle after a brief second. "I see you've been trained well, Draco. Very well, we'll find some other way of doing this. I want to watch the muggle die a slow, painful death, and then I'll have my fun with you. I'll tell your fiancè that you met with some unfortunate accident." He clicked his tongue and sneered. "Here goes." He pointed his wand at the boy once more and shouted "Imperio!" Afraid of what might happen, Hermione retaliated.
"Expelliarmus!" She shouted, watching as Voldemort was thrown backwards. She caught his wand in one hand and scoffed at him.
"You don't think it will be that easy, do you? Perhaps I don't have my wand, but I still have my powers. In fact, look!" He stuck out a long finger at her, whispering "Crucio." She immediately crumpled, the pain too great to even cry out. As she wriggled, Voldemort chuckled, "I know what I'm doing, mudblood. I've taught myself how to do the unforgivable curses without my wand. Call it talent?" Draco suddenly shouted out, startling Riddle and breaking the curse off.
"Over here, you great oaf!" Voldemort swooshed around to face Draco, whom had drawn out his wand towards the Dark Lord. "Stupify!" He shouted, trying hard not to break his concentration. The spell hit Voldemort with a clap, and he fell to the ground. After a second Hermione stood, her wand outstretched in her far-from-steady hand, breathing audibly. "What shall we do with him?" Draco asked roughly as they both stared over him. Just as Hermione was beginning to weakly shrug, Riddle sharply sat up.
"Crucio!" He yelled a second time at Hermione, whom again toppled over. Standing, he narrowed his eyes at Draco. "I've got a bone to pick with you, Mr. Malfoy. You do not proudly hold that mark on your arm as any good death eater should do. You do not use that mark as it was meant to be used. I can see you aren't truly grateful for this position. You're letting a mudblood get in your way of greatness? You could be so grand. So powerful. Your father and I had such wonderfully perfect plans for you. It disappoints me to see you this way. Becoming sightless due to a...not rather prepossessing creature. And no one disappoints Lord Voldemort."
"You are not a Lord, nor anything near to." Draco spat, his fist clenching tightly about his cherry wand. "And to all of those whom you have hypnotized, including Blaise, you won't ever be a Lord again, once Hermione and I kill you." He snarled. Voldemort raised an eyebrow, a deep smirk beginning to itch at his cheeks.
"Then perhaps I'll kill your girlfriend instead. I want you to watch her wither and fall. Just as I know you wish for somewhere deep inside of you." His smirk broadened, and he defiantly cut the curse off. Hermione sat panting on the ground for a moment, then whispered,
"Who are you, anyway? Or should I ask, 'what' are you?" Not even pivoting to respond, Voldemort snapped,
"Shut your mouth girl! You're in no position to be asking me these things." He quickly put a palm to his forehead. "Draco Malfoy, would you like me to show you? Do you want to see before you die?" Suddenly drawing out his wand, Riddle screeched, "Imperio!" Toward the boy.
"You can fight it, Draco!" Came the distant voice of Hermione. Draco reached toward her, but could not ignore the second voice inside of his skull that urged him to shut his great gray eyes. Struggling for freedom, he obeyed.
A periwinkle light shot forth from somewhere hence, and the sixteen-year old plummeted. Where he was, where he was going, what had happened, he could not comprehend. All he knew was that air was rushing swiftly through his silver-blonde hair, turning it untidy and knotted. The sensation felt almost surreal, as if he were falling through light snow, holding carefully onto one of the unique snowflakes. He opened his eyes instantaneously as he hit the ground.
Dusting himself off, he stared around at an extremely familiar scene. Where he had noticed it before, he was unaware, but something about the vast field of daisies before him gave him the strongest sense of dejavou. Below him, a long, quickly flowing stream rushed steadily downward, the current slowly dragging his balance toward the distant valley. Wind blew softly from the east, ruffling his already air-tampered locks. As it played about his cheeks, he looked upward, not forgetting about his quest, but wondering how he had gotten there. And there, on the opposing end of the field, knelt upon the dirt, was a young woman, adorned in daisies and humming audibly. The soft melody echoed, almost as if not real, throughout the large plateau and into Draco's perked ears.
He made his way towards the woman. As he approached her, she suddenly looked upward. "Draco," She began, standing. "This is only a figment of thought, do not grow afraid." Draco bent to take Hermione Granger's hand. As he reached for it, he found that his own palm went right through hers. "This is a corroborate. It will show you the truth; the secret to success."
"How?" He asked softly. Hermione's faint image flickered.
"Voldemort's spell's are slowly torturing me, Draco. The more my phantasm falters, the worse it is growing. You must hurry." Draco grimly nodded and opened his dry lips to speak, when it suddenly occurred to him when he had seen this before.
"I-I've been here. The day I became a death eater." Hermione shut her eyes and inclined her head downward.
"It's your destiny to fight him. I-" She was cut off by another random fading of her simulation. "I will show you how." Impetuously, her figure became solid and she leaned over to Draco. "Remember," she began, grinning extremely slightly, "this isn't real. It's only a figment of thought." And with this, she put her lips to his.
He was dropping again, and this time onto the forest floor. He stood, brushed himself off, and looked about. Before him, two more dim figures stood, one Hermione and the other...he. He took a step closer to speculate, and realized that this was a glimpse of what could potentially occur. Focusing so as not to miss one detail, he reached into his robes and drew his wand outward. Whispering, "Lumos," to it, he stared.
"Imperio!" another figure shouted from behind the real Draco. Both the real and the false whizzed around to face a fading Voldemort, whom had his finger pointed at false Draco. The withering boy turned to him and also drew forth his wand, thrusting it at Voldemort and shouting,
"Imperio!" at him. Colors swirled. The picture broke into a thousand pieces as glass hitting pavement, then died. Draco was back in reality, and he immediately found himself screaming,
"Imperio!" at the true Voldemort with an outstretched wand. A burst of piercing bright light flew across the scene, blowing out the fire suddenly. A bubble formed around Voldemort, whom was screaming so loudly that both Draco and Hermione had to cover their ears. There was a loud explosion, a spray of tinted flames, and then...he was gone. Lord Voldemort was defeated.
The pair, whom had been knocked to the ground by the eruption, both slowly stood and looked at each other.
"Is...is he gone?" Hermione sputtered. "I- I don't understand, Draco, you suddenly just disappeared, and Voldemort was laughing, then he cast that awful curse on me again, and I- Oh, God, I thought I was going to die." She ran and threw herself into his arms. "Even worse, I thought you had perished by his hand." Draco hushed her and ran a trembling hand through her hair.
"He was weakening. He told me this. We caught him at his most feeble moment. I don't know what happened, or how, but Voldemort is gone. You don't have to worry."
"I'm not sure. I still have a most foreboding feeling..." As Hermione trailed off, both lovers were startled by a sudden, mocking voice.
"Draco Malfoy, tsk, tsk. Haven't you learned anything from me?"
* * *
A/N: I am so very sorry for the couple weeks it took to get this chapter out. I have been hard at work on it, since it was a very action-packed chapter. Bound will be eighteen chapters in all (*sniff, the last chapter will be out soon!) plus an epilogue. I would like to thank every reviewer and reader for their support, and I will do the best I can to put the next chapter up by the end of march. Thanks one more time!
-Angel Of Music
By Angel Of Music
Chapter Seventeen: Fortitude From Empowerment
His face was dimly lit underneath the moonlight. He shivered violently as if ill, and clutched the rose to his chest, breathing heavily. Silence penetrated the thick darkness as Hermione put a palm to her forehead, thoughts rapidly flying through her mind. Draco remained solemn, his painfully emotional expression illuminated from the moon beams that shone from above the Forbidden Forest. Hermione stifled her breath now, biting her lip as she exclaimed in a nearly inaudible whisper,
"Yes." Draco's face still remained grim as Hermione ran to him and embraced him. He encircled her in the deep entwine, as tears began to fall quietly from her chin and onto the already very damp forest floor. She smiled up at him after a moment, and repeated, "Yes," more firmly this time.
"Then you must listen to me." He began after an elongated pause. "Tomorrow is the deadline: Voldemort instructed me to bring your corpse to him as proof of my crime. I'm apprehensive though- I figured he'd be able to sense it, but..." He trailed off, glancing at Hermione's fretful expression. "Don't you worry, I've got a plan."
* * *
She brushed a damp lock from her forehead as she awoke, not bothering to glance around. Her head was rest upon something rather lumpy. She rubbed her eyes fiercely, suddenly sitting up and stirring whatever was underneath her.
"What time is it?" Came a groggy voice. Hermione gasped and flung herself around, momentarily letting out a relieved sigh.
"Draco." She acknowledged. She smirked slightly and looked about. She was surrounded by bleachers, and, noting the moist grass below her, she was upon the ground of the quidditch stadium. Mist was bellowing overhead as she looked up at the fresh June's sky, beautiful and periwinkle in the rising sun. "It's lovely, isn't it?" She whispered, slowly running her fingers through Draco's hair, trying to block away the fact that this could be the last puce sky she ever witnessed. He pivoted his head towards her, his breathing asphyxiated in the dense morning's oxygen.
"It's perfect." He mouthed, inaudible. After a pause he exhaled deeply, and, with his palm outstretched, caressed Hermione's pale, sullen face. "I want you to realize something, Hermione. I'm not positive this will make much sense coming from a prat that was once so blinded by power such as me, but this may be the only chance I've got to say anything of the sorts." He stopped for a moment to clear his throat. "I was raised to be stoic. I was taught to be emotionless and smooth. It is in the Malfoy nature to have no feeling, no sense of anything but cruelty. That's just the way it's always been, ever since the beginning of time; since the first Malfoy set his foot upon the earth. I reiterate that the chain of evil was endless, and it was unheard of that the chain be broken. I'd always thought I'd be part of the bromide string of Malfoys, and I was perfectly content with this fact. It excited me that I'd carry the legacy of one of the purest, longest lasting wizarding families of this world upon my shoulders. I wanted to be...bad, to put it simply. I strived for it. I fought for that privilege. But after that night, after you saved me from the impending doom of death, I've doubted all of that." He shut his eyes momentarily.
"I'm- I'm not sure I understand." Hermione coughed.
"You make me want to be a better person, no matter who my family or what my fate is." She glanced up at him, her chocolate eyes gleaming with gratitude.
"Do you mean that?" He weakly smiled, then nodded.
"As I've never meant anything before."
* * *
A lock of pale hair fell down her cheeks as she entered the Gryffindor common room, her expression promising anything but fortitude. Looking sparsely about, printing the image thoughtfully into her memory, she stared at the maroon emblazoned area, bustling with bromide students. A grin etched at her lips for a moment, when she retained times where she'd sat with Ron and Harry on the couch and conversed about sorcerer's stones, or polyjuice potions, or Sirius Black, or the third task, or finding a date for the Yule ball. Her gin widened as she thought of the ball. It was too bad it was only held during triwizard tournaments. It was a lovely tradition.
She halted her remembrances after a while, and began to attempt to locate her target. She took a second to search, until she spotted the nervous citrus-haired boy on the opposing end of the common room. She inhaled, her breath faltering, and made her way towards him.
His eyes focused downward as she approached him. The facade that he wore; the mask of enmity, it had been placed upon him and guilt was beginning to leak into Hermione's conscience. He exhaled and turned his fiery head away from her gaze. "Ron," She started after a moment. His response was another meek breath of air. "Ron, we can't go on like this. We can't hide anything from one another anymore; we can't just keep bickering like siblings-"
"Then you shouldn't be with Malfoy." Hermione frowned at this.
"And why not?"
"Because he's a bloody prat, that's why! An egocentric, bloody little prat. That's all he is and it's all he'll ever be, Hermione, don't you understand?" She slowly shut her eyes, bringing a thumb to her right temple and massaging it fiercely.
"You may believe that, Ron, and honestly, it's your decision to think so. But I don't, and for once can you accept that someone I admire may not be someone you very well like? It's a choice I've made. End of story. The End. Let's just drop it; put it all aside for now- put it all aside forever! I need you as my friend again." To Hermione's surprise, Ron scoffed.
"You've got everything now that you're with Malfoy. Don't lie." Her mouth was ajar as she gaped at the redhead, wide-eyed in hurt. "You don't need Harry or I anymore. All you need is that ferret with the crunchy blonde hair and the humongous self respect. Tell me something, are ferrets good kissers? Because you certainly seem to think so." Before it could hit either of them, Hermione brought her palm to Ron's face, leaving behind a fresh, incinerated hand-print upon his skin. He stared up at her, suddenly raising his hand to his lips.
"For your information, we have not done anything of the sort yet! I'm waiting to break that bond- and I'm afraid, Ron! Afraid he may not care for me anymore after that! I read that-"
"Hermione...I'm-I'm so sorry." Ron whispered, a sudden tear falling from his cheek. "I'm sorry." Hermione again closed her eyelids. With a steadily increasing movement, she nodded.
"I just want this to be over. The bond, everything."
"What bond is this?" She immediately locked vision with Ron's, her expression suddenly morphing into that of shock.
Oh that's right, she hadn't told him yet.
* * *
"So you and Malfoy are-" Hermione nodded, breathing heavily. "You're bound? I've heard about that from my dad." Shifting in a chair closer to Ron's, she said softly,
"And I'm frightened that's the only reason he admires me." Ron's jaw dropped swiftly, his eyes widening.
"He wouldn't need a bond to admire you. He wouldn't need anything at all." Her cheeks elevated into a weak smile.
"Thanks, Ron." He stood, she mimicking this. They stepped sullenly and silently away from the wooden table, and within a moment, Hermione found herself embracing her friend so tightly it was hard to breath. Or perhaps that was from the knot that seemed to have lodged itself in her throat. "I'll never forget you." She whispered to herself.
* * *
Hermione focused her gaze upon the extravagant wooden table as she thoughtfully chewed her last Hogwarts supper. She tried to ignore the fact that her lips were oscillating in a sheepish frenzy, making her clumsily drip some pumpkin juice down her front. Sighing, she held her breath as Ron took her hand beneath the table and smiled. Meekly returning this, she continued to lethargically swallow the warm meal, hardly bothering to notice it's homely tastes. After a moment of pondering curtly, she ran a hand through her hair and drew her palm back from Ron's. Taking a second to inhale, she quickly looked up with Draco, and their glances locked. Hermione nodded as Draco bobbed his head and stood. Following, she bid a good night to both Harry and Ron, not allowing them to notice a small, alien tear fall from the corner of her eye onto the cold stone floor.
She reached the exit before Draco. Standing silently for a moment, trying to hold back her sadness, she swallowed fiercely and grabbed at the silver necklace that had fallen across her chest. Embracing it in her palm, she shut her eyes as a weak grin met her lips. Though her confidence was sparse, she had Draco Malfoy.
She was brought to her senses as the great doors opened upon their frames, briefly startling her.
"Are you ready?" Came a shaky voice. Hermione looked up and raised her chin confidently.
"I certainly am." A concerned smile hit Draco's cheeks.
"And you retain the plan?" He asked, shifting his voice to a much softer tone.
"I certainly do." As she concluded speaking, Draco took Hermione's hand and raised it above their heads.
"Then let's do this."
* * *
A small light shone from below the thick trees. From the flickering quality of the dense shining, he guessed that his superior had most probably lit a fire. As he drew nearer, the crackling of cinders assured this, and his thought was confirmed. Hoisting the limp body that hung over his shoulders to fit more comfortably upon him, he dropped dramatically below the immense cluster of leaves. He felt Hermione Granger's lifeless hand smack against his chest as he suddenly swerved about a sharp turn, and finally landed upon the damp forest floor, flooded with undergrowth.
It was difficult to visualize the black-cloaked man sitting motionless by the dim firelight. His attire blended well with the dark surroundings, and the camouflage suited the figure well. Draco made his way over to the hooded man, an unnaturally mirthless smirk emblazoned on his lips.
"I've brought you the girl, sire. Once you talked me out of my sudden, non-sensible change of heart, I realized how perfectly simple it was to kill her." Lord Voldemort's eyes narrowed as Draco Malfoy spoke.
"Excellent." He hissed, his voice more snake-like then Draco had ever heard before. "And may I ask, how did you...trick...the girl?" Two crimson eyes suddenly shone from beneath the hood, then disappeared in a quick flash.
"What do you mean, my Lord?"
"What I mean, Mr. Malfoy, is how did you make the girl think that you truly loved her?" Draco swallowed, deeply wanting to take Hermione's body off of his back. When Draco did not respond, Voldemort snapped, "In the darkness, it's hard to see the girl. Bring her forth to me!" Biting his lip, the silver haired boy stepped forward, bringing his gaze downward. The hooded man, however, kept his fiery stare on the limp girl. "Yes." He started wryly. To himself, he muttered, "Very clever, Mr. Malfoy."
"What was that?" Draco questioned, his cold gray eyes now alert and upon Voldemort.
"I said, how very clever of you, Draco Malfoy." A headache pounding against his temples, Draco ordered,
"I do not understand."
"I mean to say that your methods are very tactical. Somewhat frivolous, but nevertheless tactical. I see you used Cruciatus? I can tell...her fists are curled in raw pain, that is obvious." Voldemort paced slowly around Draco, inspecting he and Hermione. "Amazing how lifelike one can be in death. It's a quality that almost always astounds me." Disgusted with Voldemort's facade of evil and plain ignorance, Draco coughed,
"It seems that you have approved of this, then." Voldemort pulled down his hood, and a broad smirk suddenly smashed upon his lips. Draco inhaled shakily as he noticed a large scar stretched across the dark lord's face, and in wonderment asked, "Where did you get that?" Voldemort's head violently pivoted to stare at the boy. Putting a finger to it, he whispered evilly,
"That is none of your business, boy. Throw that body upon the ground, now, for you are to be rewarded." Draco slowly nodded, but couldn't help but notice that the scar seemed to be growing larger with it's owner's touch. He shook his head to clear the thoughts, his heart pounding fiercely. He carefully knelt down and placed Hermione's weak body against a rotting stump, his expression twisting into one of determination. Standing again, he made his way over to the dark lord. "I am old, Draco Malfoy." He began after a long, uncomfortable pause. "I may not look it, but I am beginning to feel it everywhere. In my bones, in my blood, in my flesh; even in my thoughts. I feel as if I may not last very much longer." Trying to looked at least slightly concerned, Draco pouted. "But there is hope, I'll have you realize." As if wanting to continue, but not able, Tom Marvalo Riddle opened his mouth to speak, but no words escaped. Before anything else could be said, a loud stirring came from behind the fire, somewhere not far into the darkness. "Who's there?" Voldemort demanded. And then, dirty yet resolute, into the ring of light stepped Hermione Granger.
"Unlucky for you, my lord, Draco and I had a plan. And it seems a very good one, at that. You truly thought I had died, didn't you? And I thought you were supposed to be all knowing." She barked menacingly. Voldemort rolled his great scarlet eyes.
"Oh, no! Little Mudblood's back from the dead! I've predicted wrong! Whatever will I do?" He shrieked sarcastically. "Unfortunately for you, you silly little no-blood, I've known from the start that you were alive. I've seen better actresses on the bottom of my shoe." He laughed without levity. "So come, come off your feet and try and defeat Lord Voldemort. For that has been your plan all along, hasn't it? To kill me, and emerge triumphant? Go ahead, try it." He stood, his legs and arms spread widely, exposing his chest as if gesturing them to attack him. Both Draco and Hermione stood soundlessly, staring at Voldemort. "Must I be the one to initiate this?" He questioned after a moment. "Well, very well, if I must." He quickly drew out his wand. "According to your father, Mr. Malfoy, I hear that you're very bad at avoiding the Imperius curse. Let's try this, shall we?" He flicked his wand outward at Draco, and before the boy had a chance to dart away, he had shouted the curse.
"Bring your wand forth. Kill the girl. Kill Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy." A small voice in the back of Draco's mind demanded. He slowly reached into his robes, his fingers grasping around the thin, feeble object of so much consideration. As he aimed it at Hermione, he heard the distant cackle of Lord Voldemort, and the cry from the girl of,
"No, Draco! You can fight this!" And then the wand fell from his hand onto the ground.
"What's this?" Asked Riddle after a brief second. "I see you've been trained well, Draco. Very well, we'll find some other way of doing this. I want to watch the muggle die a slow, painful death, and then I'll have my fun with you. I'll tell your fiancè that you met with some unfortunate accident." He clicked his tongue and sneered. "Here goes." He pointed his wand at the boy once more and shouted "Imperio!" Afraid of what might happen, Hermione retaliated.
"Expelliarmus!" She shouted, watching as Voldemort was thrown backwards. She caught his wand in one hand and scoffed at him.
"You don't think it will be that easy, do you? Perhaps I don't have my wand, but I still have my powers. In fact, look!" He stuck out a long finger at her, whispering "Crucio." She immediately crumpled, the pain too great to even cry out. As she wriggled, Voldemort chuckled, "I know what I'm doing, mudblood. I've taught myself how to do the unforgivable curses without my wand. Call it talent?" Draco suddenly shouted out, startling Riddle and breaking the curse off.
"Over here, you great oaf!" Voldemort swooshed around to face Draco, whom had drawn out his wand towards the Dark Lord. "Stupify!" He shouted, trying hard not to break his concentration. The spell hit Voldemort with a clap, and he fell to the ground. After a second Hermione stood, her wand outstretched in her far-from-steady hand, breathing audibly. "What shall we do with him?" Draco asked roughly as they both stared over him. Just as Hermione was beginning to weakly shrug, Riddle sharply sat up.
"Crucio!" He yelled a second time at Hermione, whom again toppled over. Standing, he narrowed his eyes at Draco. "I've got a bone to pick with you, Mr. Malfoy. You do not proudly hold that mark on your arm as any good death eater should do. You do not use that mark as it was meant to be used. I can see you aren't truly grateful for this position. You're letting a mudblood get in your way of greatness? You could be so grand. So powerful. Your father and I had such wonderfully perfect plans for you. It disappoints me to see you this way. Becoming sightless due to a...not rather prepossessing creature. And no one disappoints Lord Voldemort."
"You are not a Lord, nor anything near to." Draco spat, his fist clenching tightly about his cherry wand. "And to all of those whom you have hypnotized, including Blaise, you won't ever be a Lord again, once Hermione and I kill you." He snarled. Voldemort raised an eyebrow, a deep smirk beginning to itch at his cheeks.
"Then perhaps I'll kill your girlfriend instead. I want you to watch her wither and fall. Just as I know you wish for somewhere deep inside of you." His smirk broadened, and he defiantly cut the curse off. Hermione sat panting on the ground for a moment, then whispered,
"Who are you, anyway? Or should I ask, 'what' are you?" Not even pivoting to respond, Voldemort snapped,
"Shut your mouth girl! You're in no position to be asking me these things." He quickly put a palm to his forehead. "Draco Malfoy, would you like me to show you? Do you want to see before you die?" Suddenly drawing out his wand, Riddle screeched, "Imperio!" Toward the boy.
"You can fight it, Draco!" Came the distant voice of Hermione. Draco reached toward her, but could not ignore the second voice inside of his skull that urged him to shut his great gray eyes. Struggling for freedom, he obeyed.
A periwinkle light shot forth from somewhere hence, and the sixteen-year old plummeted. Where he was, where he was going, what had happened, he could not comprehend. All he knew was that air was rushing swiftly through his silver-blonde hair, turning it untidy and knotted. The sensation felt almost surreal, as if he were falling through light snow, holding carefully onto one of the unique snowflakes. He opened his eyes instantaneously as he hit the ground.
Dusting himself off, he stared around at an extremely familiar scene. Where he had noticed it before, he was unaware, but something about the vast field of daisies before him gave him the strongest sense of dejavou. Below him, a long, quickly flowing stream rushed steadily downward, the current slowly dragging his balance toward the distant valley. Wind blew softly from the east, ruffling his already air-tampered locks. As it played about his cheeks, he looked upward, not forgetting about his quest, but wondering how he had gotten there. And there, on the opposing end of the field, knelt upon the dirt, was a young woman, adorned in daisies and humming audibly. The soft melody echoed, almost as if not real, throughout the large plateau and into Draco's perked ears.
He made his way towards the woman. As he approached her, she suddenly looked upward. "Draco," She began, standing. "This is only a figment of thought, do not grow afraid." Draco bent to take Hermione Granger's hand. As he reached for it, he found that his own palm went right through hers. "This is a corroborate. It will show you the truth; the secret to success."
"How?" He asked softly. Hermione's faint image flickered.
"Voldemort's spell's are slowly torturing me, Draco. The more my phantasm falters, the worse it is growing. You must hurry." Draco grimly nodded and opened his dry lips to speak, when it suddenly occurred to him when he had seen this before.
"I-I've been here. The day I became a death eater." Hermione shut her eyes and inclined her head downward.
"It's your destiny to fight him. I-" She was cut off by another random fading of her simulation. "I will show you how." Impetuously, her figure became solid and she leaned over to Draco. "Remember," she began, grinning extremely slightly, "this isn't real. It's only a figment of thought." And with this, she put her lips to his.
He was dropping again, and this time onto the forest floor. He stood, brushed himself off, and looked about. Before him, two more dim figures stood, one Hermione and the other...he. He took a step closer to speculate, and realized that this was a glimpse of what could potentially occur. Focusing so as not to miss one detail, he reached into his robes and drew his wand outward. Whispering, "Lumos," to it, he stared.
"Imperio!" another figure shouted from behind the real Draco. Both the real and the false whizzed around to face a fading Voldemort, whom had his finger pointed at false Draco. The withering boy turned to him and also drew forth his wand, thrusting it at Voldemort and shouting,
"Imperio!" at him. Colors swirled. The picture broke into a thousand pieces as glass hitting pavement, then died. Draco was back in reality, and he immediately found himself screaming,
"Imperio!" at the true Voldemort with an outstretched wand. A burst of piercing bright light flew across the scene, blowing out the fire suddenly. A bubble formed around Voldemort, whom was screaming so loudly that both Draco and Hermione had to cover their ears. There was a loud explosion, a spray of tinted flames, and then...he was gone. Lord Voldemort was defeated.
The pair, whom had been knocked to the ground by the eruption, both slowly stood and looked at each other.
"Is...is he gone?" Hermione sputtered. "I- I don't understand, Draco, you suddenly just disappeared, and Voldemort was laughing, then he cast that awful curse on me again, and I- Oh, God, I thought I was going to die." She ran and threw herself into his arms. "Even worse, I thought you had perished by his hand." Draco hushed her and ran a trembling hand through her hair.
"He was weakening. He told me this. We caught him at his most feeble moment. I don't know what happened, or how, but Voldemort is gone. You don't have to worry."
"I'm not sure. I still have a most foreboding feeling..." As Hermione trailed off, both lovers were startled by a sudden, mocking voice.
"Draco Malfoy, tsk, tsk. Haven't you learned anything from me?"
* * *
A/N: I am so very sorry for the couple weeks it took to get this chapter out. I have been hard at work on it, since it was a very action-packed chapter. Bound will be eighteen chapters in all (*sniff, the last chapter will be out soon!) plus an epilogue. I would like to thank every reviewer and reader for their support, and I will do the best I can to put the next chapter up by the end of march. Thanks one more time!
-Angel Of Music
