I don't own anything you recognised (and we are all crying because of it).
N.B. Although Draco is the "Hero" of my story I didn't want to get rid of ALL his evilness 'cos there's no fun in having a completely nice hero. Let me know if you think its working.
Chapter 2-First Death, Second Step
Hermione rose and cast a healing spell over her aching body, instantly restoring her small, slender frame to the beautiful, evil Death Eater she was. She the proceeded to take her place with the rest of the Death Eaters.
"Oh no!" said Lord Voldemort, "Severus, Draco...Hermione," his voice almost softened (well, for an evil lord) as he spoke her name, "You three will join me and Lucius."
The three moved forward to join the Dark Lord and his right hand wizard. Voldemort turned to the Death Eaters:
"Let the festivities commence." He waved his wand and the grand doors of the ballroom opened and a stream of confused looking muggle men and women entered the elegant ballroom. The Death Eaters moved towards them hungrily.
"HALT you fools." Voldemort bellowed-the Death Eaters immediately stopped- the muggles began to look more confused. Draco began to feel wary...what was the fool up to now?!
"Hermione gets first choice," purred He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named "Tonight and from now on."
A few of the Death Eaters scowled at this but none spoke, none dared challenge their Lord.
"Aren't we the favourite." Sneered Draco into Hermione's ear and as her flashed angrily he smirked, satisfied at the response his remark had provoked.
"Well me dear Raven." Said Voldemort, turning to Hermione.
Draco saw a fleeting look of fear pass across her face:
"Don't screw it up Granger." He hissed and the look vanished and was replaced with a sultry look from her blackened eyes, and a sexy pout of her blood lips.
She walked slowly and sexily forward-one hand on her hip the other swinging casually at her side. The Death Eaters encircled the muggles, and Hermione stepped into the middle to eyes her options.
Voldemort practically drooled as she made her way round the assortment of muggle men and women, caressing each of them in turn, stroking a cheek here, running a long finger down a stomach, licking and tasting her way round.
"Maybe she swings both ways." Draco thought maliciously thinking of the fun he could have at school with that rumour.
Finally Hermione stopped sauntering around.
"I'll have this one." She purred in a low voice.
"A good choice." Smiled Voldemort, "Now the rest of you may choose."
Draco gulped-this was what he had been dreading: every muggle here was not going to leave Malfoy Manor alive tonight. They didn't know it but they were all going to be raped, tortured and, when the Death Eaters got bored, they would be killed. The worst point was that as newly instated Death Eaters, he and Hermione were expected to do their fair share of the raping, torturing and killing.
He noted to himself that Snape managed to grab the nearest muggle woman to him and disappear to a nice dark corner, away from prying eyes. However, Draco also knew that he and Hermione would not be so lucky. As if reading his thoughts his father's silky voice oozed into him: "My Lord, I think that another display of our youth's power is in order. I know I for one am keen to observe my son's "abilities"."
"Lucius, I couldn't agree more." Draco's heart sank at Lord Voldemort's response. "I must admit my intentions tonight had been more voyeuristic: Draco, Hermione," he called, "To the centre. The rest of you may watch or partake in your own pleasures."
Draco grabbed a muggle woman and pushed her to her knees, the eyes of the surrounding Death Eaters bore into him, (well, those who could contain their own animalistic desires long enough to watch).
He gulped nervously-he couldn't believe what he was about to do. He freed himself from his robes and the muggle woman swooped in on his man hood greedily. He placed his hands on her head, wrapping his fingers in her thick blonde hair:
"Faster." He grunted in as much of a commanding voice as he could muster. She did as he said and skilfully worked his organ in her mouth. He almost peaked but knowing this would not please either his father of Voldemort he roughly pushed the woman off his length so she now lay on her back, legs spread.
As he moved down on top of her he quickly moved his wand into his sleeve and the concealed magic at her muttering "Obliviate"-at least now the poor bitch wouldn't know what was happening to her. He ripped her clothing off and in one swift movement he roughly entered her. This seemed to please his onlookers as she cried out in pain. He continued to enter her roughly until he peaked.
He stood up and placed his length back inside his robes. He wished so badly that he could've cast "Avada Kedavra" but he knew this would not please his spectators. He reached inside his robes and withdrew a long, elegant silver knife, with a serpent carved around the handle. He then leaned right down to the young muggle woman, his face inches from hers and a sneer on his handsome face. Ice blue eyes met deep green ones as she looked at him terrified.
"I'm sorry." He whispered. Only she could hear.
Draco plunged deep into her chest and, slicing her from torso to abdomen caused a rushing stream of scarlet to escape her body, along with an ear piercing scream. He drew the knife out looking at the red goo oozing from its edges. He was sure to keep his face free of any emotion as her gut wrenching screams filled the ballroom, mixed with a spattering of applause. He looked into her emerald eyes:
"Why?" they were asking. He tried to ignore them as he drew the knife down once more and slit her throat. He closed his eyes, feeling dirty and ashamed as her warm blood gushed over him.
He looked up at Voldemort and his father who were looking very satisfied with the performance he had just given them. However, as he watched them their gaze moved from his over to the right. Draco followed their stare: at the other end of the circle of Death Eaters was Hermione.
Her black jeans had been transfigured into an incredibly short black leather skirt which was at this moment hitched around her waist as she was pumped from behind by the muggle man she had chosen. Her black eyes stared ahead emotionless and her blood red lips were muttering something, however if it was to the muggle man, the Death Eaters or herself, Draco could not tell.
As Draco watched, the man peaked and as he did so Hermione reached behind, over her shoulder, grabbed the man's neck and twisted it until it broke with a sickening crunch. She then proceeded to flip the man over her shoulder and straddle him. Draco had to marvel at her strength.
Whilst sitting on him she reached down to a clasp around her slender ankle and withdrew a beautiful silver knife. Amazingly, the man was still alive, despite having had his neck broken, and as Draco watched, Hermione plunged the knife into his heart. She gracefully withdrew it and followed her first attack by deftly slitting his throat, wrists and stomach.
The man spluttered, coughed and, as a long trickle of blood fell from his mouth, he died. Hermione stood over her victim and wiped the blade clean with her long fingers, before returning it to her ankle clasp.
She the proceeded to saunter over to Voldemort and offer him one of the blood drenched fingers: he took it into his mouth and licked it clean:
"Mmm," he sneered "Tastes like.....mudblood."
Hermione imitated him, all the time smiling that sexy smile of hers.
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Once all the muggles had been "disposed of" the Death Eaters were soon dismissed. Snape, Draco and Hermione apparated back to Dumbledore's office: he was sat behind his desk, waiting for them. He beckoned Snape forward, Draco stayed where he was-he was dying to go to his rooms and forget this whole night but as he hadn't been dismissed he thought he'd better stay put. He noticed that Hermione too hadn't moved but that she had decided to transfigure her revealing Death Eater attire into something more suitable in front of the Headmaster: her skimpy skirt and top became simple skate jeans, T-shirt and trainers. Draco noticed her eyes glistening with tears but she looked as if she refused to cry in front of him.
"Bloody proud Gryffindor." He thought and turned away, opting to eavesdrop on the conversation between Dumbledore and the potion's master:
"How did it go?" Dumbledore was muttering.
"Very well." Came Snape's reply, "They were made to, ahem, "perform" for the Dark Lord and I think they are both a bit shaken up, Miss Granger especially so but she's strong." Draco bristled with annoyance at this comment from Snape...he was making him out to be a small weak child, but he continued to listen anyway:
"All the same," Dumbledore was saying, "I think perhaps she shouldn't be left alone for a little while. It will not do for her to dwell on tonight's events."
"I am afraid I will be unable to see to her Albus-the revel went on for slightly longer than I had anticipated and I am very behind with my marking and lesson plan for tomorrow: I hope you don't mind?"
"Of course not my boy. However, I myself will also be unable to attend to either of them as I have been called to the ministry and am already running rather late as I refused to leave until you had returned safely." "What do you suggest we do with them then Albus?" Surely you don't think we can leave them together."
"I think we may have to my boy. They have been enemies for far too long now, they need to overcome this. The revel tonight was only the first step. I feel they must now take the second."
"Yes Albus, I understand. But don't blame me if there are bits of our Head boy and girl all over the castle in an hour so...I know I'm not going to be helping to scrape bits of Gryffindor from the rugs."
"Goodnight Severus." Smiled the Headmaster.
"Goodnight Albus." Came the reply and Snape was gone in a flurry and whirl of black robes. Dumbledore raised his voice:
"Mr Malfoy, you will please escort Miss Granger back to her rooms." It was a statement not a question. Draco inwardly groaned...another ten minutes in her company and he may well be making Snape's joke about Gryffindor in the rug a reality.
"Yes sir." Was all he said.
He and Hermione left Dumbledore's office and as the door closed behind them Draco heard a "pop" signalling the Headmaster was no longer in the building.
At the gargoyle Draco turned to Hermione and sneered at the dismal mess in front of him; she had her head down and her cheeks were streaming silent tears, smearing her cheeks and making her eyes red. Her long ringlets were clinging to the wet patches on her cheeks...she really did look sorrowful.
"Well?" He said impatiently.
Hermione lifted her head and Draco saw the sadness in her eyes.
"Bloody hell." He muttered, he was gonna regret this next move he just knew it. "Look," he continued, "where am I supposed to be taking you...your rooms or the Gryffindor common room?"
"Common room." She sniffed "Harry and Ron want to see me to check I'm alright and find out what I've been up to."
Draco groaned again, he was REALLY gonna regret this next bit.
"Well you can't go back to them like that. If they are in the common room then so are the rest of those nosey Gryffindors and you won't get any peace...they'll wana know why their head girl looks like she's just go one on one with a Graphorn...I'm assuming no-one except Potty and Weasel know about what you were doing tonight?"
She shook her head.
"Right," he continued, "so, I'll go an escort you somewhere and you can clean up then I'll take you back to the common room like I was told to, 'cos seriously Granger, you go in like that you'll scare the first years."
Hermione looked at him, confused:
"Why d'ya wana do this?" she queried.
"Her, seriously Granger, I don't but Dumbledore told me I've gotta take you back to your rooms...we'll just make a slight de-tour on the way. Any way, I'm telling the truth...you go in like that and you'll scare 'em."
Hermione nodded and they walked down the corridor and a flight of stairs to the girl's bathroom. Draco waited outside impatiently tapping the wall and humming to himself whilst Hermione went inside to clean herself up. Only a minute or so later and she emerged, her hair tied back in a simple ponytail and her face free of all make up. With her lack of height and her fresh face she looked so much younger than her years.
"C'mon." Draco grunted, "Show me where to go." She led him away to the left and he walked along next to her in silence. They made it to the Charm's corridor before Hermione suddenly burst into a flood of tears. Unfortunately these were not the silent ones, great heaving sobs escaped her throat and her shoulders heaved with each one.
"Bloody Gryffindor." Draco muttered and, grabbing her by the shoulder he steered her towards the nearest classroom.
"Alohamora." He muttered. The lock clicked open and he pushed Hermione inside.
"Wh...." she tried to protest but he was too strong for her and her protest went unnoticed. Draco unceremoniously plonked her down on a desk.
"You," he said, "are staying there till you've got them waterworks of yours under control....honestly, I take you back like that they're gonna jump me thinking I've attacked you or summat."
Hermione nodded her agreement and Draco saw her try to make a real effort to control hers sobs, but to no avail she simply collapsed to the floor on her knees and began crying uncontrollably. Draco panicked-this wasn't the plan: The usual Hermione would pull herself together and never let a Slytherin (especially Draco Malfoy...good or bad) see her in this state. But Draco then realised....he wasn't dealing with the normal Hermione Granger.
The Hermione Granger kneeling in front of him now was not the one who was Head girl of Hogwarts, who aced every test they were set, who always handed her homework in on time and who drove most of the other students mad with her seemingly endless fountain of knowledge. The Hermione in front of him was older...not physically but mentally. In the last few hours she had changed more than anyone would know and know she had to cope with what that change had brought about and what she had had to do to get there. Draco improvised:
"Look, um....I can't believe I'm gonna say this but as you can't go back like that and seen as there's obviously summat up with you, um....if you wana, you know,.." he was babbling, he should hurry up, just spit it out. He did "If you wana talk to me you can." There he'd said it; it was up to her now. He leant against a nearby desk and sighed, brushing his hair from his face as he did so.
Her sobs just came harder and her chest rise and fell dramatically with each one. Hesitantly, Draco reached out and touched her lightly on the shoulder, with his other hand he gently brushed a piece of hair that had fallen loose of its bind, away from her face, tucking it behind her ear: He'd never been much good a physical kindness, hugs and soppy stuff he called it, but Hermione was obviously upset so he decided to give it a shot.
She lifted her head to look at him and his heart pulled inside him as he looked at the deep brown eyes in her tear stained face.
"Talk." He said, and she took a deep breath:
"I can't take it. I thought I could but I really can't. I'm not strong enough to do this. Tonight was too much: the sex, the fighting, the killing..." she broke off into a fresh wave of tears.
Draco was confused: He knew for a fact that she and the Weasel had dated briefly in their fifth and sixth year so she'd had sex....well, he was pretty sure he had...unless Weasel was ill-equipped (that thought made him smile), and she'd defiantly fought in battles before, and fiercely too in their fifth and sixth year. As if reading his mind she continued:
The sex shouldn't have bothered me-I thought I could just switch off my emotions but I couldn't. So then I imagined it was Ron, I muttered to myself the sweet things he used to say to me..."
"Well," thought Draco, "at least that explains what I thought was just psycho babble."
"...that didn't work either so I just had to kneel there, being fucked by a complete stranger. And the killing," her voice wavered and fell to a whisper, "I've NEVER killed before and now I feel so guilty-Nienna, Dinru and that poor muggle man. I'll never forgive myself...never."
Draco was now very nervous: here she was pouring her heart out to him and he had no idea what to do.
"Um...look," he said, "I KNOW tonight wasn't easy, hell, I've never killed anyone before either and I know I'll never be able to forget it. But the point is we've got a job to do in order to make sure we win."
She looked at him, confused to see him sharing his feelings. She smiled at him-a grateful smile-before looking away again.
"Hey Granger, since we're going all mushy on each other here, why don't you tell me where you learned that stuff you pulled tonight. That whole levitation thing was amazing."
Astonishingly her eyes filled with fear and she moved towards Draco as if for comfort, he faltered before pulling her into a VERY awkward one armed hug:
"I honestly don't know." Came her soft reply, "I was angry and afraid...I wanted to die but then I heard these voices inside my head, speaking the ole language, then it spread to the room and the light came, along with the power...it was like the Gods themselves were in my soul. It was amazing....but so scary. I felt I couldn't control it but the voices, they told me they'd protect me."
"You can speak the language if the Gods?" Draco asked in awe, staring at her red puffy eyes.
"Oh no." Hermione gave a small laugh, "I couldn't understand their words but the message was clear...they were going to look after me...and they did."
Draco thought she sounded slightly crazy but he was impressed nonetheless and he made a mental note to ask Dumbledore about this new gift of Hermione's-she was a powerful witch, there was no doubt about that but for someone to actually posses the power of The Ancients was very rare indeed.
The Ancients were the oldest of all wizards, founders of magic and the most powerful to ever walk the Earth. Legend told that when they died at ripe old ages the six of them were sent to the skies to watch over all future generations. There were records of witches and wizards claiming to have spoken to The Ancients, but such cases were very rare and often disregarded as crackpot attempts for attention.
BANG!!!! The door to the Charms classroom was blasted open by a shot of silver light and Harry and Ron Stormed in:
"Get away from her Malfoy!" spat Harry, pointing a shaky finger accusingly at him whilst stuffing what looked like a map of Hogwarts into his pocket. Ron followed, his wand pointing at Draco's chest. Draco instantly dropped his arm from Hermione's shoulder as if it were a hot brick.
"Well, well, well," he sneered, "if it isn't Potty and Weasel......feeling left out are we? Got a craving to save the day again?"
"Screw you Malfoy." Muttered Ron, "We came to find Hermione." He walked over to her, pulling her into a huge bear hug.
Harry turned to face Draco who put on his most patronising angelic face, just because he knew it would wind up Potter no end.
"Don't play the innocent with me Malfoy." He warned dangerously, "you stay away from her. Just 'cos you two have got to work together, don't think there's any chance of any other kind of relationship."
Draco's head span with confusion, but his face remained angelic and innocent. He had no interest in Hermione-did he?! Nah, of course he didn't: She was just an insufferable know-it-all that he had the unfortune to work with.
"Just 'cos it's not you playing Wonder Boy for a change doesn't mean you've got to butt in whenever you feel the need to remind people of your unfortunate existence."
"Drop dead Malfoy." Growled Ron.
"I'll leave that particular pleasure to you Weasel: what's the matter?! Sorry you can't play side kick? Don't worry I'm sure you'll get your chance to screw up soon"
"Get out." Harry warned, "And stay away from Hermione."
"Funny isn't it." Draco smiled as he sauntered out the Charm's room, "I didn't see Hermione complaining." And with that he strolled back to his rooms, hearing Ron ask hesitantly:
"So what happened tonight Hermione?"
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That night Draco lay in his large bed, surrounded by huge fluffy pillows, a pretty Ravenclaw girl sleeping next to him: he'd kick her out in the morning, right now he was thinking....about Hermione: She had certainly blossomed into a beautiful young witch over the past few years; anyone (even a Slytherin) could see that. Her hair had lost its' bushiness and had grown into soft ringlets that cascaded down her back and framed her pretty heart shaped face. Her eyes were beautiful deep brown, large, wide and innocent, although she had seen more horror in her tender years than most witches or wizards did in an entire lifetime. And her body, well, it was just...amazing: she hadn't grown at all since third year and stood at only just over five foot but she was so petite that she wouldn't suit any other size: She was curvy in all the right places and had incredibly long, slim legs for one so small. Draco felt himself getting slightly aroused and stopped himself:
"For Gods sake Draco! She's Hermione...and anyway, you don't want Weasel's seconds." He grinned to himself, rolled over and, pushing the Ravenclaw over so he could have more room he fell into a night of VERY strange but satisfying dreams.
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In her Head Girl's rooms Hermione lay in her lavish bed, alone and though of Draco. Why had he comforted her then turned so cold and nasty at the appearance of Harry and Ron?! She supposed it was simple...he was Slytherin whether he was helping The Order or not he was still malicious and mean. So why did the thought of him please her so?! And why had she noticed how well their bodies fitted together?!
Draco's body, now there was something to marvel at: he had grown tall, lean and now stood at a very tall six foot two (which, she thought explained why his body fit hers so well-she merely slotted in under his chin). He was muscular and strong from his years of Quidditch playing and his white long hair was no longer held in place by ten tube of gel every day; it was now longer and a few strands fell around his angelic, pointed face. His eyes were piercing blue, as though they could see through things.
Hermione shivered involuntarily at the thought of those eyes seeing through things, but she too stopped herself and fell into a night of odd dreams.
N.B. Although Draco is the "Hero" of my story I didn't want to get rid of ALL his evilness 'cos there's no fun in having a completely nice hero. Let me know if you think its working.
Chapter 2-First Death, Second Step
Hermione rose and cast a healing spell over her aching body, instantly restoring her small, slender frame to the beautiful, evil Death Eater she was. She the proceeded to take her place with the rest of the Death Eaters.
"Oh no!" said Lord Voldemort, "Severus, Draco...Hermione," his voice almost softened (well, for an evil lord) as he spoke her name, "You three will join me and Lucius."
The three moved forward to join the Dark Lord and his right hand wizard. Voldemort turned to the Death Eaters:
"Let the festivities commence." He waved his wand and the grand doors of the ballroom opened and a stream of confused looking muggle men and women entered the elegant ballroom. The Death Eaters moved towards them hungrily.
"HALT you fools." Voldemort bellowed-the Death Eaters immediately stopped- the muggles began to look more confused. Draco began to feel wary...what was the fool up to now?!
"Hermione gets first choice," purred He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named "Tonight and from now on."
A few of the Death Eaters scowled at this but none spoke, none dared challenge their Lord.
"Aren't we the favourite." Sneered Draco into Hermione's ear and as her flashed angrily he smirked, satisfied at the response his remark had provoked.
"Well me dear Raven." Said Voldemort, turning to Hermione.
Draco saw a fleeting look of fear pass across her face:
"Don't screw it up Granger." He hissed and the look vanished and was replaced with a sultry look from her blackened eyes, and a sexy pout of her blood lips.
She walked slowly and sexily forward-one hand on her hip the other swinging casually at her side. The Death Eaters encircled the muggles, and Hermione stepped into the middle to eyes her options.
Voldemort practically drooled as she made her way round the assortment of muggle men and women, caressing each of them in turn, stroking a cheek here, running a long finger down a stomach, licking and tasting her way round.
"Maybe she swings both ways." Draco thought maliciously thinking of the fun he could have at school with that rumour.
Finally Hermione stopped sauntering around.
"I'll have this one." She purred in a low voice.
"A good choice." Smiled Voldemort, "Now the rest of you may choose."
Draco gulped-this was what he had been dreading: every muggle here was not going to leave Malfoy Manor alive tonight. They didn't know it but they were all going to be raped, tortured and, when the Death Eaters got bored, they would be killed. The worst point was that as newly instated Death Eaters, he and Hermione were expected to do their fair share of the raping, torturing and killing.
He noted to himself that Snape managed to grab the nearest muggle woman to him and disappear to a nice dark corner, away from prying eyes. However, Draco also knew that he and Hermione would not be so lucky. As if reading his thoughts his father's silky voice oozed into him: "My Lord, I think that another display of our youth's power is in order. I know I for one am keen to observe my son's "abilities"."
"Lucius, I couldn't agree more." Draco's heart sank at Lord Voldemort's response. "I must admit my intentions tonight had been more voyeuristic: Draco, Hermione," he called, "To the centre. The rest of you may watch or partake in your own pleasures."
Draco grabbed a muggle woman and pushed her to her knees, the eyes of the surrounding Death Eaters bore into him, (well, those who could contain their own animalistic desires long enough to watch).
He gulped nervously-he couldn't believe what he was about to do. He freed himself from his robes and the muggle woman swooped in on his man hood greedily. He placed his hands on her head, wrapping his fingers in her thick blonde hair:
"Faster." He grunted in as much of a commanding voice as he could muster. She did as he said and skilfully worked his organ in her mouth. He almost peaked but knowing this would not please either his father of Voldemort he roughly pushed the woman off his length so she now lay on her back, legs spread.
As he moved down on top of her he quickly moved his wand into his sleeve and the concealed magic at her muttering "Obliviate"-at least now the poor bitch wouldn't know what was happening to her. He ripped her clothing off and in one swift movement he roughly entered her. This seemed to please his onlookers as she cried out in pain. He continued to enter her roughly until he peaked.
He stood up and placed his length back inside his robes. He wished so badly that he could've cast "Avada Kedavra" but he knew this would not please his spectators. He reached inside his robes and withdrew a long, elegant silver knife, with a serpent carved around the handle. He then leaned right down to the young muggle woman, his face inches from hers and a sneer on his handsome face. Ice blue eyes met deep green ones as she looked at him terrified.
"I'm sorry." He whispered. Only she could hear.
Draco plunged deep into her chest and, slicing her from torso to abdomen caused a rushing stream of scarlet to escape her body, along with an ear piercing scream. He drew the knife out looking at the red goo oozing from its edges. He was sure to keep his face free of any emotion as her gut wrenching screams filled the ballroom, mixed with a spattering of applause. He looked into her emerald eyes:
"Why?" they were asking. He tried to ignore them as he drew the knife down once more and slit her throat. He closed his eyes, feeling dirty and ashamed as her warm blood gushed over him.
He looked up at Voldemort and his father who were looking very satisfied with the performance he had just given them. However, as he watched them their gaze moved from his over to the right. Draco followed their stare: at the other end of the circle of Death Eaters was Hermione.
Her black jeans had been transfigured into an incredibly short black leather skirt which was at this moment hitched around her waist as she was pumped from behind by the muggle man she had chosen. Her black eyes stared ahead emotionless and her blood red lips were muttering something, however if it was to the muggle man, the Death Eaters or herself, Draco could not tell.
As Draco watched, the man peaked and as he did so Hermione reached behind, over her shoulder, grabbed the man's neck and twisted it until it broke with a sickening crunch. She then proceeded to flip the man over her shoulder and straddle him. Draco had to marvel at her strength.
Whilst sitting on him she reached down to a clasp around her slender ankle and withdrew a beautiful silver knife. Amazingly, the man was still alive, despite having had his neck broken, and as Draco watched, Hermione plunged the knife into his heart. She gracefully withdrew it and followed her first attack by deftly slitting his throat, wrists and stomach.
The man spluttered, coughed and, as a long trickle of blood fell from his mouth, he died. Hermione stood over her victim and wiped the blade clean with her long fingers, before returning it to her ankle clasp.
She the proceeded to saunter over to Voldemort and offer him one of the blood drenched fingers: he took it into his mouth and licked it clean:
"Mmm," he sneered "Tastes like.....mudblood."
Hermione imitated him, all the time smiling that sexy smile of hers.
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Once all the muggles had been "disposed of" the Death Eaters were soon dismissed. Snape, Draco and Hermione apparated back to Dumbledore's office: he was sat behind his desk, waiting for them. He beckoned Snape forward, Draco stayed where he was-he was dying to go to his rooms and forget this whole night but as he hadn't been dismissed he thought he'd better stay put. He noticed that Hermione too hadn't moved but that she had decided to transfigure her revealing Death Eater attire into something more suitable in front of the Headmaster: her skimpy skirt and top became simple skate jeans, T-shirt and trainers. Draco noticed her eyes glistening with tears but she looked as if she refused to cry in front of him.
"Bloody proud Gryffindor." He thought and turned away, opting to eavesdrop on the conversation between Dumbledore and the potion's master:
"How did it go?" Dumbledore was muttering.
"Very well." Came Snape's reply, "They were made to, ahem, "perform" for the Dark Lord and I think they are both a bit shaken up, Miss Granger especially so but she's strong." Draco bristled with annoyance at this comment from Snape...he was making him out to be a small weak child, but he continued to listen anyway:
"All the same," Dumbledore was saying, "I think perhaps she shouldn't be left alone for a little while. It will not do for her to dwell on tonight's events."
"I am afraid I will be unable to see to her Albus-the revel went on for slightly longer than I had anticipated and I am very behind with my marking and lesson plan for tomorrow: I hope you don't mind?"
"Of course not my boy. However, I myself will also be unable to attend to either of them as I have been called to the ministry and am already running rather late as I refused to leave until you had returned safely." "What do you suggest we do with them then Albus?" Surely you don't think we can leave them together."
"I think we may have to my boy. They have been enemies for far too long now, they need to overcome this. The revel tonight was only the first step. I feel they must now take the second."
"Yes Albus, I understand. But don't blame me if there are bits of our Head boy and girl all over the castle in an hour so...I know I'm not going to be helping to scrape bits of Gryffindor from the rugs."
"Goodnight Severus." Smiled the Headmaster.
"Goodnight Albus." Came the reply and Snape was gone in a flurry and whirl of black robes. Dumbledore raised his voice:
"Mr Malfoy, you will please escort Miss Granger back to her rooms." It was a statement not a question. Draco inwardly groaned...another ten minutes in her company and he may well be making Snape's joke about Gryffindor in the rug a reality.
"Yes sir." Was all he said.
He and Hermione left Dumbledore's office and as the door closed behind them Draco heard a "pop" signalling the Headmaster was no longer in the building.
At the gargoyle Draco turned to Hermione and sneered at the dismal mess in front of him; she had her head down and her cheeks were streaming silent tears, smearing her cheeks and making her eyes red. Her long ringlets were clinging to the wet patches on her cheeks...she really did look sorrowful.
"Well?" He said impatiently.
Hermione lifted her head and Draco saw the sadness in her eyes.
"Bloody hell." He muttered, he was gonna regret this next move he just knew it. "Look," he continued, "where am I supposed to be taking you...your rooms or the Gryffindor common room?"
"Common room." She sniffed "Harry and Ron want to see me to check I'm alright and find out what I've been up to."
Draco groaned again, he was REALLY gonna regret this next bit.
"Well you can't go back to them like that. If they are in the common room then so are the rest of those nosey Gryffindors and you won't get any peace...they'll wana know why their head girl looks like she's just go one on one with a Graphorn...I'm assuming no-one except Potty and Weasel know about what you were doing tonight?"
She shook her head.
"Right," he continued, "so, I'll go an escort you somewhere and you can clean up then I'll take you back to the common room like I was told to, 'cos seriously Granger, you go in like that you'll scare the first years."
Hermione looked at him, confused:
"Why d'ya wana do this?" she queried.
"Her, seriously Granger, I don't but Dumbledore told me I've gotta take you back to your rooms...we'll just make a slight de-tour on the way. Any way, I'm telling the truth...you go in like that and you'll scare 'em."
Hermione nodded and they walked down the corridor and a flight of stairs to the girl's bathroom. Draco waited outside impatiently tapping the wall and humming to himself whilst Hermione went inside to clean herself up. Only a minute or so later and she emerged, her hair tied back in a simple ponytail and her face free of all make up. With her lack of height and her fresh face she looked so much younger than her years.
"C'mon." Draco grunted, "Show me where to go." She led him away to the left and he walked along next to her in silence. They made it to the Charm's corridor before Hermione suddenly burst into a flood of tears. Unfortunately these were not the silent ones, great heaving sobs escaped her throat and her shoulders heaved with each one.
"Bloody Gryffindor." Draco muttered and, grabbing her by the shoulder he steered her towards the nearest classroom.
"Alohamora." He muttered. The lock clicked open and he pushed Hermione inside.
"Wh...." she tried to protest but he was too strong for her and her protest went unnoticed. Draco unceremoniously plonked her down on a desk.
"You," he said, "are staying there till you've got them waterworks of yours under control....honestly, I take you back like that they're gonna jump me thinking I've attacked you or summat."
Hermione nodded her agreement and Draco saw her try to make a real effort to control hers sobs, but to no avail she simply collapsed to the floor on her knees and began crying uncontrollably. Draco panicked-this wasn't the plan: The usual Hermione would pull herself together and never let a Slytherin (especially Draco Malfoy...good or bad) see her in this state. But Draco then realised....he wasn't dealing with the normal Hermione Granger.
The Hermione Granger kneeling in front of him now was not the one who was Head girl of Hogwarts, who aced every test they were set, who always handed her homework in on time and who drove most of the other students mad with her seemingly endless fountain of knowledge. The Hermione in front of him was older...not physically but mentally. In the last few hours she had changed more than anyone would know and know she had to cope with what that change had brought about and what she had had to do to get there. Draco improvised:
"Look, um....I can't believe I'm gonna say this but as you can't go back like that and seen as there's obviously summat up with you, um....if you wana, you know,.." he was babbling, he should hurry up, just spit it out. He did "If you wana talk to me you can." There he'd said it; it was up to her now. He leant against a nearby desk and sighed, brushing his hair from his face as he did so.
Her sobs just came harder and her chest rise and fell dramatically with each one. Hesitantly, Draco reached out and touched her lightly on the shoulder, with his other hand he gently brushed a piece of hair that had fallen loose of its bind, away from her face, tucking it behind her ear: He'd never been much good a physical kindness, hugs and soppy stuff he called it, but Hermione was obviously upset so he decided to give it a shot.
She lifted her head to look at him and his heart pulled inside him as he looked at the deep brown eyes in her tear stained face.
"Talk." He said, and she took a deep breath:
"I can't take it. I thought I could but I really can't. I'm not strong enough to do this. Tonight was too much: the sex, the fighting, the killing..." she broke off into a fresh wave of tears.
Draco was confused: He knew for a fact that she and the Weasel had dated briefly in their fifth and sixth year so she'd had sex....well, he was pretty sure he had...unless Weasel was ill-equipped (that thought made him smile), and she'd defiantly fought in battles before, and fiercely too in their fifth and sixth year. As if reading his mind she continued:
The sex shouldn't have bothered me-I thought I could just switch off my emotions but I couldn't. So then I imagined it was Ron, I muttered to myself the sweet things he used to say to me..."
"Well," thought Draco, "at least that explains what I thought was just psycho babble."
"...that didn't work either so I just had to kneel there, being fucked by a complete stranger. And the killing," her voice wavered and fell to a whisper, "I've NEVER killed before and now I feel so guilty-Nienna, Dinru and that poor muggle man. I'll never forgive myself...never."
Draco was now very nervous: here she was pouring her heart out to him and he had no idea what to do.
"Um...look," he said, "I KNOW tonight wasn't easy, hell, I've never killed anyone before either and I know I'll never be able to forget it. But the point is we've got a job to do in order to make sure we win."
She looked at him, confused to see him sharing his feelings. She smiled at him-a grateful smile-before looking away again.
"Hey Granger, since we're going all mushy on each other here, why don't you tell me where you learned that stuff you pulled tonight. That whole levitation thing was amazing."
Astonishingly her eyes filled with fear and she moved towards Draco as if for comfort, he faltered before pulling her into a VERY awkward one armed hug:
"I honestly don't know." Came her soft reply, "I was angry and afraid...I wanted to die but then I heard these voices inside my head, speaking the ole language, then it spread to the room and the light came, along with the power...it was like the Gods themselves were in my soul. It was amazing....but so scary. I felt I couldn't control it but the voices, they told me they'd protect me."
"You can speak the language if the Gods?" Draco asked in awe, staring at her red puffy eyes.
"Oh no." Hermione gave a small laugh, "I couldn't understand their words but the message was clear...they were going to look after me...and they did."
Draco thought she sounded slightly crazy but he was impressed nonetheless and he made a mental note to ask Dumbledore about this new gift of Hermione's-she was a powerful witch, there was no doubt about that but for someone to actually posses the power of The Ancients was very rare indeed.
The Ancients were the oldest of all wizards, founders of magic and the most powerful to ever walk the Earth. Legend told that when they died at ripe old ages the six of them were sent to the skies to watch over all future generations. There were records of witches and wizards claiming to have spoken to The Ancients, but such cases were very rare and often disregarded as crackpot attempts for attention.
BANG!!!! The door to the Charms classroom was blasted open by a shot of silver light and Harry and Ron Stormed in:
"Get away from her Malfoy!" spat Harry, pointing a shaky finger accusingly at him whilst stuffing what looked like a map of Hogwarts into his pocket. Ron followed, his wand pointing at Draco's chest. Draco instantly dropped his arm from Hermione's shoulder as if it were a hot brick.
"Well, well, well," he sneered, "if it isn't Potty and Weasel......feeling left out are we? Got a craving to save the day again?"
"Screw you Malfoy." Muttered Ron, "We came to find Hermione." He walked over to her, pulling her into a huge bear hug.
Harry turned to face Draco who put on his most patronising angelic face, just because he knew it would wind up Potter no end.
"Don't play the innocent with me Malfoy." He warned dangerously, "you stay away from her. Just 'cos you two have got to work together, don't think there's any chance of any other kind of relationship."
Draco's head span with confusion, but his face remained angelic and innocent. He had no interest in Hermione-did he?! Nah, of course he didn't: She was just an insufferable know-it-all that he had the unfortune to work with.
"Just 'cos it's not you playing Wonder Boy for a change doesn't mean you've got to butt in whenever you feel the need to remind people of your unfortunate existence."
"Drop dead Malfoy." Growled Ron.
"I'll leave that particular pleasure to you Weasel: what's the matter?! Sorry you can't play side kick? Don't worry I'm sure you'll get your chance to screw up soon"
"Get out." Harry warned, "And stay away from Hermione."
"Funny isn't it." Draco smiled as he sauntered out the Charm's room, "I didn't see Hermione complaining." And with that he strolled back to his rooms, hearing Ron ask hesitantly:
"So what happened tonight Hermione?"
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That night Draco lay in his large bed, surrounded by huge fluffy pillows, a pretty Ravenclaw girl sleeping next to him: he'd kick her out in the morning, right now he was thinking....about Hermione: She had certainly blossomed into a beautiful young witch over the past few years; anyone (even a Slytherin) could see that. Her hair had lost its' bushiness and had grown into soft ringlets that cascaded down her back and framed her pretty heart shaped face. Her eyes were beautiful deep brown, large, wide and innocent, although she had seen more horror in her tender years than most witches or wizards did in an entire lifetime. And her body, well, it was just...amazing: she hadn't grown at all since third year and stood at only just over five foot but she was so petite that she wouldn't suit any other size: She was curvy in all the right places and had incredibly long, slim legs for one so small. Draco felt himself getting slightly aroused and stopped himself:
"For Gods sake Draco! She's Hermione...and anyway, you don't want Weasel's seconds." He grinned to himself, rolled over and, pushing the Ravenclaw over so he could have more room he fell into a night of VERY strange but satisfying dreams.
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In her Head Girl's rooms Hermione lay in her lavish bed, alone and though of Draco. Why had he comforted her then turned so cold and nasty at the appearance of Harry and Ron?! She supposed it was simple...he was Slytherin whether he was helping The Order or not he was still malicious and mean. So why did the thought of him please her so?! And why had she noticed how well their bodies fitted together?!
Draco's body, now there was something to marvel at: he had grown tall, lean and now stood at a very tall six foot two (which, she thought explained why his body fit hers so well-she merely slotted in under his chin). He was muscular and strong from his years of Quidditch playing and his white long hair was no longer held in place by ten tube of gel every day; it was now longer and a few strands fell around his angelic, pointed face. His eyes were piercing blue, as though they could see through things.
Hermione shivered involuntarily at the thought of those eyes seeing through things, but she too stopped herself and fell into a night of odd dreams.