A/N: Well here it is, another installment of Twisted Obsession. Be happy. I wrote this just for you people. Yes you, the psychos who want me to continue…this is for you.
Spiffy
ghypscee
demented sock monkey: and it has to be said, I love your name. * grins * thanks for reading.
Julie: Gee, thanks. * blushes *
hermie4sev
Braya
rose-petal-forever
sean: * evil grin *
The Man With the Cupcakes: aww, how sweet. Careful J, you might be going soft.
hobo-hobisho: * blows a kiss * you are a goddess. And don't worry, rape with foreign objects squicks me too. Not gonna happen here.
Serpent du feu: okay, you're a sick f*ck…nahh, just kidding! I'm really glad you like. Oh, and if you're still reading this, let me tell you that you might just get your wish ;)
AngiePanj
AngelStorm: * grins * I like the way you think, girl!
Erae
Lisa
Ottowan Angel
I'll Never Tell: trust me, I wont just stop writing, I know where this story is going, and I'm definitely finishing it. Don't worry, Softie!Draco will NOT be making an appearance in this fic…its not in the stars. * grins * oh, and he was talking about Harry.
Okay now, with that taken care of, read and enjoy!!!
Harry Potter was no dolt. Well, okay, he was rather slow, but that was only to be expected, what with the strength and power it had taken to kill Voldemort and bury so many friends, not to mention what the strain of losing Hermione as well was doing to his already frazzled nerves. But none of that meant that his brain had deserted him completely. Oh, no. In fact, Harry had become more paranoid than ever before after killing Voldemort; he was always watching his back, expecting an attack from every source imaginable. The only people he trusted completely were Hermione and Draco.
Draco. Now there was something for Harry's mind to chew on. Draco had been a constant support to Harry all through the war, ever since he had suddenly joined the side of Light, seemingly out of nowhere. Draco had later confessed to Harry that he himself had been the reason the blonde former-Slytherin had decided to defy his past and fight against Voldemort, and more importantly, his father.
At the time, Harry had needed to believe that what Draco had said was true. He'd just lost his best friend in the world to the war raging around him, was losing more and more friends as the days wore on, and he needed someone to care for him, to fill the void Ron had left in his heart. Of course, Draco had filled the void in an entirely different way than Ron had, and Harry had found himself relying on the blonde more and more as time went by; even going so far as to neglect Hermione and her obvious pain. It only got worse after Voldemort died. Harry hadn't wanted Hermione around him for a few months afterward; he would have no one but Draco near him. He knew that this was hurting his best friend, and he sorely regretted that, but he had needed to reclaim some happiness in his life, and Draco had been able to help him do that. Before long, Harry was completely in love with the ex Death Eater, and they had moved in together, leaving Hermione out even more. She was just too much a reminder of Ron, and Harry found to his dismay that he was quite willing to keep things the way they were going.
But Draco had convinced him otherwise. He had told him, in a kind, patient voice that was so unlike the Malfoy of old days; that Harry needed Hermione, that he would regret cutting her out of his life in the end. So Harry had started a tentative communication with her, and realized that Draco had been right. While Hermione was in fact a reminder of Ron, it wasn't a painful one. Rather, it was comforting to sit down with her and discuss Ron; the Ron they had known at Hogwarts. For all his changes Draco still couldn't do that, and though Harry shared his grief with Draco the other man couldn't understand it as well as Hermione.
In the end, the memories of Ron had saved their friendship, and soon Hermione was a regular guest at Harry and Draco's flat, just as they were in hers. And if there was any tension between his lover and his best friend, Harry didn't notice it, or wrote it off as some old grudges healing slower than others.
But now, Harry wasn't so sure. Draco had been acting odd ever since Hermione's disappearance; going off for hours at a time without telling Harry, being strangely quiet when Hermione was mentioned…and then there was that smile. Draco didn't know that Harry had seen it, he had thought the other man too caught up in his grief, but he had noticed, and he didn't like it one bit. That smile suggested that Draco was in no way upset about Hermione being gone; that he was in fact overjoyed at her absence. Why would that be?
And then there was the problem that there were no known Death Eaters that could have wanted this sort of revenge on Hermione. Any who might have held such a grudge were either dead or locked away in Azkaban, each and every one sentenced to a Kiss. There hadn't been any breakouts, and in truth the only Death Eater who hadn't received the Kiss was Blaise Zabini, who was now in St. Mungo's after being tortured to the point of insanity by Draco Malfoy.
There it was again; Draco's name popping up in the middle of his thoughts. Draco. Somehow it all went back to Draco, and Harry wasn't comfortable with this at all.
There was another thing. A few nights after Hermione had been kidnapped, Draco had come home in a very excited state. He'd practically jumped Harry, ignoring the darker boy's protests as he took him forcefully without even bothering to prep him; Harry had felt something inside of him tear, he had cried out in pain and pulled away from Draco, but not before Draco had come explosively, and definitely not to late to see the satisfied expression on Draco's face…almost as if he had enjoyed hurting Harry.
Later Draco had apologized profusely, had blamed what he'd done on anxiety for Hermione, and Harry had believed him. Now he knew that he just hadn't wanted to face the truth; something very wrong was going on with Draco. Something, it looked now, that had to do with Hermione.
But…Draco had been so wonderful with him, and here Harry was suspecting him of being involved with Hermione's disappearance. Surely…surely Draco wasn't capable of something like that, was he? Alone in his flat once again, Harry gave a small shudder, while deep in the Malfoy dungeons, his best friend in the world began to lose her grip on reality…
~****~
Draco hadn't been able to visit the mudblood today…he'd had too many things to do. He did have appearances to keep up, after all. He'd gone to the ministry, endured Longbottom's stumbling over his condolences for Harry, and his promises that they would find Hermione, then paid his usual quota of Galleons to the bumbler; the quota his father had set and which he had refused to get rid of, despite Harry's protests. He'd told the other man that although his father was a right beast, giving money to the Ministry periodically had been a good idea, even if the reason behind said idea was wrong. What Draco didn't tell Harry was that he also had the wrong reasons for giving his money so readily. If the Ministry knew him for his kindness, they would be less likely to suspect him if things went sour, just as they were now. Of course, being the kept lover of The Boy Who Finally Defeated Voldemort was plenty reason for Draco to go on unsuspected, but the Slytherin had always been fond of having a backup plan.
With this in mind, Draco took care of what needed to be done at the Ministry, which was basically a check to see if they were getting close to finding the mudblood and paying his dues, as he jokingly thought of them. When things got too boring, Draco amused himself by thinking of all the things he might still be able to do to the filth in his dungeons…if her mind hadn't already snapped, that was. Draco believed the creature was stronger than that, but he knew that she was cracking. Still, there was fun to be had, and he fully intended to enjoy it while it lasted.
When Longbottom had finally finished his clumsy consolations, Draco left, wondering how on earth that man managed to become the current Minister of Magic. Wonders never cease. Bored on the way home, Draco entertained himself with how the mudblood had looked as she'd screamed, how the tears had fallen down her face in a torrent of pain, how the blood had flowed from her fingers as Draco had pulled her nails out, one by one.
In high spirits, Draco decided to make a small stop to get himself something to celebrate. Some time later, he emerged from a small store, a bottle of champagne and some fruit in his hands. He whistled a tune to himself until he reached his and Harry's flat, quickly putting on a sad face before entering so that the idiot inside didn't suspect anything. Draco didn't want to ruin the surprise too early, after all. Opening the door, Draco called, "I'm home, Love." When he received no answer, he frowned slightly, but quickly wiped it off of his face as he made his way towards the bedroom, where Harry was fast asleep on their bed, drooling all over the sheets. Draco allowed himself a small sneer of disgust. He would have to set fire to nearly everything he owned after Harry was gone, that was certain. Couldn't have anything he'd contaminated lying around.
Wiping the sneer off of his face, Draco shook Harry gently, saying, "Harry, get up. Wake up, Love", until Harry finally stirred. His eyes opened and blinked sleepily up at Draco, and then he recoiled. Draco frowned. "Relax, Love, it's just me", he whispered, and saw a flash of fear go through Harry's eyes before they went blank. "Draco?" he said in a small voice, and Draco ignored his disgust and slid across the bed. Running his fingers through Harry's hair he murmured, "Yes, it's me, you silly Gryffindor" as he continued to pet Harry. The other man went very still, then pulled away. Draco narrowed his eyes. "Any news on 'Mione?" Harry asked quietly, and Draco shook his head. "I'm afraid they still don't know anything", he replied, waiting for the other man's face to crumble and for Harry to fall crying into his arms, as he always did.
But Harry did nothing of the sort. Instead, he gave Draco an unreadable look, before getting out of the bed. "I think that I'm going to head down to the Ministry myself, and make them do something", he said firmly, and again Draco saw the flash of something like fear run through Harry's eyes. Now why should he be afraid?
Harry Apparated out of the building, only stopping to tell Draco not to wait up for him, he might be awhile. After Harry Apparated, Draco stared at the spot where the other man had been for a long time, pondering what had just happened. Something about this whole thing was off, somehow…
Suddenly Draco understood everything, and his lips twisted into a furious snarl. "Oh, you little bastard…" he murmured softly, and then Apparated out of the flat.
Scant seconds later, Harry, followed by a horde of Aurors and Ministry Officials, Apparated into the living room where Draco had been moments before. They searched the flat for Draco, but found it to be empty. And now the tears fell from Harry's eyes as he realized that Draco had indeed been the one who had taken Hermione. "I had hoped I was wrong", he whispered softly, and Alaster Moody put a hand on his shoulder. "So did we", he said in a gruff voice, and Harry broke down completely. If something horrible happened to Hermione…if she—and Harry found he had to think it, had to let it out—died, it would be his fault. He covered his face with his hands and wept bitterly, praying to a God that he'd never believed in for Hermione to be all right.
~****~
When she heard the sound of the dungeon door being opened, Hermione tried to raise her head, but found it too difficult. Everything hurt, and really, it required way too much strength for her to look at the person who was doing all this to her—and the mockery of Harry was just too awful to take.
He spoke, "Hello, mudblood", and Hermione looked up in surprise, her pain forgotten as she stared into the real face of her captor for the first time.
"Malfoy", she spat furiously, taking in the perfect blonde hair and grey eyes with no surprise, "I knew it was you."
Malfoy laughed. "I'm sure you did." He replied. "It really was so much fun to torture you while I looked like him; to see your face as you watched him hurt you…but, sadly, all good things must come to an end, and I'm afraid we've reached yours, my dear." With that he stepped toward her, pulling his wand from his robes. Closing her eyes, Hermione waited for the sound of the killing curse, wondering vaguely what it would feel like. She found herself wondering about Harry. Poor, sweet, gullible Harry. He would have no one now…
Instead of killing her, however, Malfoy released her from the chains, and Hermione fell into a surprised heap on the cold floor. She looked up into Malfoy's eyes, her whole face a question mark. Malfoy looked at her almost tenderly. "We just have one last piece of business to finish first", he whispered, moving towards her. Hermione tried to scuttle away, but found herself in too much pain to move. She closed her eyes and heard Malfoy whisper once again,
"One last piece of business…"
A/N 2: Well, there it is. Chapter 4. Loved? Hated? Want to run after me and fling office supplies at my head? Lemme know. Grr, there's all this space here and I hate to just leave it, but I know y'all don't want me to babble, so I guess I'll just have to deal, right? Let me just add that the next chappie should be out real soon, cuz the right now this fic is practically writing itself. Oh yea, and let me know what you thought of me putting Harry's point of view in, k? With that said, I'm off…
