"You're hurting me," Hermione whispered, her voice quivering. Draco loosened the hold his right hand had on her wrists, which he held slightly above her head. Looked down at her; he saw nothing but fear in her cinnamon brown eyes. He took a step back to minimize the contact of their bodies when he realized her entire body was shaking against his.
"What are you talking about?" Draco asked. "I'm not holding you that tightly. Besides, a gentleman never harms a lady." He released her wrists and took a step back. Without his body supporting hers, she fell to the floor, so she was sitting on her legs. She held her head in her hands as her body shook uncontrollably. Sitting beside her, Draco pulled her small form to him. Resting her head on his shoulder, she continued to cry as he stroked her hair with his right hand, and his left arm wrapped around her waist to hold her against his chest. Draco didn't know why he was doing this. It seemed as natural, as instinctive as eating and breathing.
"What am I doing?" Hermione choked out. "I'm not a leader, I'm not evil. I'm not even a woman yet." She sniffled between every other word as she continued to cry. Draco could feel her tears stained his black silk shirt. For some reason he couldn't fathom, he didn't really care. "I don't know what they are going to do, or already have done to my mother, the one that raised me. I don't know what is to become of me. What do you all expect of me? I was Harry Potter's best friend, and suddenly my father is the man the murdered his parents, and has been trying to murder him for the past 16 years? And what about school? Am I supposed to go and finish my seventh year at Hogwarts like everything is normal? Is Voldemort going to tell the whole world that he has a blood heir, or are we going to pretend that I'm still Hermione Granger, the Mudblood? Will Dumbledore even allow me back into Hogwarts? I'm Head Girl! The Head Girl is the daughter of the Dark Lord? Who would possibly allow that? I'm the spawn of evil itself!" With that, Hermione sobs continued without breaks. Draco could feel her body heat and sweat as she worked herself into frenzy. He continued to hold her as she tried to calm down and cried. He looked down when her breaths were soft and even.
"Are you alright now?" Draco asked.
Hermione looked up at him. "Yes, I'm alright. I'm sorry I broke down like that. I don't know what I was thinking. I've wanted to cry since I first woke up and found myself here. I guess I just cracked when you scared me like that."
"No, don't worry about it. You've been through a lot today. I don't blame you at all. I'm surprised you held it in this long. Most witches in your position, with Potter and all, would have started crying the second Lord Voldemort even told her that she was his daughter. You'll be fine. After all, you've got Voldemort's blood running through you, right?" He looked down at her when she didn't answer. She had fallen asleep with her head on his shoulder.
Draco sighed and smoothly lifted her from the floor and headed to her bedroom. He walked down the hallways, reading the inscriptions engraved into the white gold plates that hung on each door. He stopped when he found the one that read "Lady Voldemort." Carefully, he maneuvered so that he could open the door. He pushed it open with his foot and walked in. He gently laid her sleeping form on the enormous bed. She looked so uncomfortable in those wet clothes. Not only had she soaked his shirt with her sweat and tears, she had soaked her dress. What was becoming of the Great Draco Malfoy? He couldn't believe himself. Shaking his head, he sat down on the bed. Lifting Hermione, he pulled her so that he back was against his chest and he pushed the small black straps down her arms, and the dress down to her waist. Laying her back down, he stood and removed her shoes before pulling the rest of the dress off of her body. He almost gasped when he saw her body.
He discovered the bruises covering her body. Dear Lord, they were everywhere. Her stomach was nothing but one massive black bruise. Her sides were bruised up and down, and upon closer inspection, they looks like hand prints. He had to stop himself from removing her bra and panties to see if she had the same marks in her private areas. What on Earth had happened to her?
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"Ah, Draco, there you are. We were wondering when you would return my daughter," Voldemort smiled at him. It wasn't much of a smile….
"Speaking of the Lady, where is she?" Lucius inquired. "I was hoping to properly introduce myself."
"I'm afraid she was feeling ill. She went straight to bed," Draco answered.
"Well then, I guess it would only be appropriate for me to retire as well. It's already two in the morning. Lucius, I must ask you and Draco to join Desdemona and myself for lunch tomorrow." Draco was confused for a moment. Desdemona? Oh yes, Desdemona Hermione Riddle.
"It would be an honor my Lord," Lucius said and he gracefully bowed his head.
"Excellent." Voldemort stood to address the other Death Eaters. The room immediately fell silent. "I'm afraid its become rather late, and the Lady has already retired, so I must follow," he announced. "It's been a pleasure to have you all here tonight." He turned and exited the room as everyone Apparated back to their homes.
"What are you talking about?" Draco asked. "I'm not holding you that tightly. Besides, a gentleman never harms a lady." He released her wrists and took a step back. Without his body supporting hers, she fell to the floor, so she was sitting on her legs. She held her head in her hands as her body shook uncontrollably. Sitting beside her, Draco pulled her small form to him. Resting her head on his shoulder, she continued to cry as he stroked her hair with his right hand, and his left arm wrapped around her waist to hold her against his chest. Draco didn't know why he was doing this. It seemed as natural, as instinctive as eating and breathing.
"What am I doing?" Hermione choked out. "I'm not a leader, I'm not evil. I'm not even a woman yet." She sniffled between every other word as she continued to cry. Draco could feel her tears stained his black silk shirt. For some reason he couldn't fathom, he didn't really care. "I don't know what they are going to do, or already have done to my mother, the one that raised me. I don't know what is to become of me. What do you all expect of me? I was Harry Potter's best friend, and suddenly my father is the man the murdered his parents, and has been trying to murder him for the past 16 years? And what about school? Am I supposed to go and finish my seventh year at Hogwarts like everything is normal? Is Voldemort going to tell the whole world that he has a blood heir, or are we going to pretend that I'm still Hermione Granger, the Mudblood? Will Dumbledore even allow me back into Hogwarts? I'm Head Girl! The Head Girl is the daughter of the Dark Lord? Who would possibly allow that? I'm the spawn of evil itself!" With that, Hermione sobs continued without breaks. Draco could feel her body heat and sweat as she worked herself into frenzy. He continued to hold her as she tried to calm down and cried. He looked down when her breaths were soft and even.
"Are you alright now?" Draco asked.
Hermione looked up at him. "Yes, I'm alright. I'm sorry I broke down like that. I don't know what I was thinking. I've wanted to cry since I first woke up and found myself here. I guess I just cracked when you scared me like that."
"No, don't worry about it. You've been through a lot today. I don't blame you at all. I'm surprised you held it in this long. Most witches in your position, with Potter and all, would have started crying the second Lord Voldemort even told her that she was his daughter. You'll be fine. After all, you've got Voldemort's blood running through you, right?" He looked down at her when she didn't answer. She had fallen asleep with her head on his shoulder.
Draco sighed and smoothly lifted her from the floor and headed to her bedroom. He walked down the hallways, reading the inscriptions engraved into the white gold plates that hung on each door. He stopped when he found the one that read "Lady Voldemort." Carefully, he maneuvered so that he could open the door. He pushed it open with his foot and walked in. He gently laid her sleeping form on the enormous bed. She looked so uncomfortable in those wet clothes. Not only had she soaked his shirt with her sweat and tears, she had soaked her dress. What was becoming of the Great Draco Malfoy? He couldn't believe himself. Shaking his head, he sat down on the bed. Lifting Hermione, he pulled her so that he back was against his chest and he pushed the small black straps down her arms, and the dress down to her waist. Laying her back down, he stood and removed her shoes before pulling the rest of the dress off of her body. He almost gasped when he saw her body.
He discovered the bruises covering her body. Dear Lord, they were everywhere. Her stomach was nothing but one massive black bruise. Her sides were bruised up and down, and upon closer inspection, they looks like hand prints. He had to stop himself from removing her bra and panties to see if she had the same marks in her private areas. What on Earth had happened to her?
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"Ah, Draco, there you are. We were wondering when you would return my daughter," Voldemort smiled at him. It wasn't much of a smile….
"Speaking of the Lady, where is she?" Lucius inquired. "I was hoping to properly introduce myself."
"I'm afraid she was feeling ill. She went straight to bed," Draco answered.
"Well then, I guess it would only be appropriate for me to retire as well. It's already two in the morning. Lucius, I must ask you and Draco to join Desdemona and myself for lunch tomorrow." Draco was confused for a moment. Desdemona? Oh yes, Desdemona Hermione Riddle.
"It would be an honor my Lord," Lucius said and he gracefully bowed his head.
"Excellent." Voldemort stood to address the other Death Eaters. The room immediately fell silent. "I'm afraid its become rather late, and the Lady has already retired, so I must follow," he announced. "It's been a pleasure to have you all here tonight." He turned and exited the room as everyone Apparated back to their homes.