I am sorry you have had to wait so much longer than usual for this but, as
I had to point out to a couple of ignorant reviewers (to whom I apologise
if they were joking), I am 18 and currently making one of the biggest
decisions I will ever have to make; which University I will attend for the
next four years. That has occupied me for the best part of this week and
combined with the fanfic exchange, writers block and coursework I have been
thrown completely of course. Sorry to the many of you who waited patiently
and didn't feel they had to resort to threatening to flame me if I didn't
update soon.
Ebbe04, mattiemalfoy, DM/HG Lover, me, Draco_Fan, quiet-mg, KatarynMalfoy, feltons-no.1-dominatrix, dracohermioneluver, Keliyon, sweet-77-thang, HnDluver, InsanitySquirrel321, WiccaWitch, RaineMalfoy: Thank you for reading and reviewing, I hope you enjoy this Chapter, hopefully some of musings will be answered.
Sheilalein; I have explained as much of Hermione's power as I will at the moment. You learn slightly more in this Chapter and I promise it will climax eventually.
Miss Rhapsody; As always thank you for reviewing. I love getting them from you as they always make me smile. No other of my Chapters are different, only the last one which you have read. If I do decide ever to vary them again I will let everyone know.
buscemi Thank you. Yes, they know what a condom is but how boring is it to read "Draco slowly unravelled the condom onto himself as Hemrione waited patiently for him to finish". Personally I don't find it very sexy to read that so I ignore it and let people imagine what they want; a charm, the pill, condoms, a potion, anything you feel like.
dracohermioneluver; Your review confused me. Please explain a bit more.
N.B. They are not my puppets, I just make them dance.
Chapter 18-The Knife of Asriel
Draco crumpled up the letter in his hand, his eyes falling to the soft, green of the table cloth. A family meal was not what he needed right now, yet his Father was adamant that it was necessary and that Draco had to attend. They were never events to relish in and Draco severely doubted this one would be any different; the three of them would simply sit around, bitching about muggles, Hermione, Dumbledore and Potter, whilst plotting many manipulative plans as to how they cold dispose of them.
"Woo hoo!" Draco sighed, viciously stabbing his bacon and ignoring the looks the other Slytherins were giving him.
Blaise was particularly bothersome at the moment. His sharp, purple eyes were always watching Draco and Hermione, seemingly for some indication of what was going on there. Draco's performance at the revel seemed not to have quenched the thirst of the Slytherin who thought with his groin, and Draco was constantly considering how much of a threat Blaise really posed to Hermione's safety.
Draco's eyes involuntarily turned to the lioness as he thought of her. She was still the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes upon. She was everything he loved about the world; elegance, mystery, happiness and love all rolled into one. Her eyes glanced towards him and grey met green as, for the first time in along time, they connected above everything else.
Remembering his place Draco scowled and turned back to his breakfast. He had to speak with her. There were so many questions he needed to ask her about the revel and her powers. Any excuse to talk with her.
The family dinner would be on the Friday night so he would be able to go and see Hermione on the Saturday morning, if she wasn't doing anything with Pothead and Weasel. He could always pop in on his way back from the family dinner.
"Hey, Draco? You OK?" Blaise yelled up, obviously not phased by anything these days.
"Yeah, Drakie. You've been so quiet lately. Is something bothering you that I can help with?" This was Pansy, whispering into his left ear, whilst running her slim hand across his thigh. Draco closed his eyes, pretending it was Hermione but, failing miserably, he briskly shook the bony girl away with a flick of his wrist.
"I'm fine Pansy. Really."
Blaise simply smirked and returned to his conversation with Millicent whiles Pansy, disgruntled, sat in stony silence, occasionally glancing at Draco to regain his affections. But to no avail for Draco had fallen into deep thought, away from the conversations of his housemates and away from Hogwarts. In his mind, he was alone.
--------------------------------
Draco glanced at himself in the mirror. He truly was his father's son. An elegant black suit adorned his lean physique and around his shoulders he wore a black cape, lined with fine green silk and fastened with a silver snake clasp. Sneering he turned from the mirror and made his way from the castle to apparate from Hogsmeade, stalking through the corridors and not paying attention to the rest of the school;
"OW! Watch where you're going!" A female voice spat as books fell to the floor.
Without raising his eyes Draco bent to help retrieve the books. His hand brushed familiar, creamy skin and he lifted his eyes.
"Oh, it's you." Hermione whispered, her voice full of hope and sadness at the same time.
"So you weren't looking where you were going either?" Draco said, trying to engage in a conversation with her.
"Obviously not." Hermione snapped, grabbing her last book of him and turning away.
"Can I come by your rooms later?" Draco asked suddenly, cursing his illogical brain for thinking that saying that even classified as being remotely a good idea. Yet to his surprise Hermione turned.
"I'd like that." Was all she said before turning away once more.
Draco smiled to himself; nothing would put him in a bad mood tonight. He stalked from the castle and apparated to Malfoy Manor, his spirits higher than they had been for a while.
-----------------------------------
Draco was greeted at the door by a rather old and tired looking house elf wearing a potato sack.
"Renny welcomes Master Draco home tonight and hope Master Draco has a wonderful evening." The house elf spoke out, cautiously staying out of range of Dracos' arms and feet for fear of being kicked. Draco simply nodded and walked towards his mother's awkward greeting; a slight hug and a kiss on the cheek.
"Ah, Draco." His father's silky voice slid through the doorway, followed by the man himself. "Good to see you; it has been too long since we sat together as a family."
"It has Father." Draco replied robotically, removing his cape and tossing it to the house elf. "I was wondering when you would call me again. We have many things to discuss."
"Indeed we do." Lucius purred, his arm inching around his wife's waist. "Narcissa, dearest, myself and Draco will retire to the smoking room for the time being and will meet you in the dining room at nine for dinner."
Narcissa said nothing but walked away silently, muttering to herself about how Lucius was a bastard and she was better of without him.
Lucius laughed to himself, as if hearing his wife talk in such a way was simply a trick performed by a particularly amusing pet. Draco sighed and followed his father to the smoking room where a large balloon of Brandy and a best cigar were thrust upon him. He thanked his father and began to puff on the cancer stick whilst watching the amber liquid dance in the light as he swirled it around the delicate glass.
"I hear you won a bet Draco." Lucius suddenly announced, a smirk of evil upon his face.
Technically Draco had not won the bet but, knowing his father the best conversation would ensue if he said the right thing.
"Yes father."
"Would you care to elaborate Draco? You know how much I enjoy the details."
"Me and Blaise, at Christmas, placed a bet of 200 Galleons to see who could shag Granger first. At the revel I won."
"Although you had already won."
"That is true, but where would be the fun in that when I could make Blaise watch and deny him all chances of winning?"
Lucius' laugh was cold and cruel as he looked upon the son of whom he was so proud.
"So the Mudblood bitch finally got a good seeing to by the both of you? I am impressed."
"Thank you father."
"Now that we have discussed that issue we must progress onto further matters. Disposing of the little whore."
"Have you given it ay more thought father?"
"Your mother will be away throughout February on business for the Dark Lord, leaving us the perfect opportunity to strike. I know Narcissa would appreciate the show but I think of it as a bonding exercise between father and son."
Draco allowed a sincere smile to swim to the surface of his face.
"Of course Father."
"Now, I feel there is very little to be done in the way of planning as there is no doubt that the bitch will be brought down. The Gods know she deserves it after that display at the last revel; MacNair was one of our best men."
"You think he was innocent Father?" Draco found himself asking, unable to stop his wondering.
This question seemed to throw Lucius who had obviously not considered MacNair's guilt or innocence, only that it had bee the "filthy Mudblood" who had slain him. Yet, as always, Lucius maintained the aura of complete control and dignity.
"Who knows. I know I certainly don't care; he was a clumsy fool, although he was loyal. The point is Draco that it was SHE who killed him and we need to dispose of her. The plan is the same as before; lure her here on Valentine's night and we will slay her down. It will be simple but effective."
"Yes Father. What time should I be here?"
"Your Mother will be leaving at six so put in an appearance at seven and tell the Mudblood to be here at half past. Clear?"
"Yes Father."
Lucius gave Draco a rare nod of approval and together they returned to the dining room for dinner.
---------------------------
Draco sat between his parents at dinner that night with a sense of hatred gripping slowly around his heart. They were animals; he could see it now more than ever, nothing but cruel natured, evil animals. His Father was gloating about some innocent muggle he had captured and tortured into madness before setting them loose on a London street with a sword and bayonet where they had attempted to stab five civilians and had shot two others. Narcissa was laughing as the story progressed, apparently finding it the funniest thing she had ever heard.
Secretly wishing he could change the subject so it wouldn't appear to be obvious that he did not wish to discuss his Fathers 'triumphs', Draco amused himself by throwing in full blown evil cackles when it seemed the appropriate thing to do.
Half way through the splendid meal Narcissa turned to Draco and asked;
"And what about a bride Draco?"
Draco, who had not been listening tried to put what his Mother had said into something that resembled a cohesive context.
"I'm sorry Mother I think I must have phased out for a second. Could you please elaborate for me?"
"A bride, Draco, you will take a bride this summer. Who is it to be? I know our Lord is taken with the Mudblood, but with her out of the picture by the battle you will need someone else. What about that Millicent girl?"
"Millicent Bulstrode has a face like a pug." Draco sneered, much to his Father's enjoyment. Narcissa bristled;
"Well, Pansy has always bee popular with you."
"No, she hasn't Mother; I have been popular with her. There is subtle difference."
""There's always Blaise's sister. What's her name again?"
"Moirasa." Lucius spoke up, his eyes shining at the thought of the sexy blonde with the smouldering eyes.
Draco had met her once and she had been enough to turn his stomach. The evil within the soul of Moirasa was more than he had felt even in his Father. She was twisted, always had been. A year older than Blaise, Moirasa had attended Hogwarts and been Head Girl and the queen of Slytherin. She had taunted, bullied and manipulated her way through the school and then into Voldemort's deepest circle.
Draco had met her at a party once but had not seen her since becoming a Death Eater, being told she was in Japan researching the best way to torture The Order members that may survive the battle, and carrying out her studies on any muggle or Mudblood she could lay her hands on. The thought of being matchmaked to such a monster made Draco's blood boil and he stood from the table, eyes flashing;
"I will choose my bride myself and will not have you interfering." He said, knowing he would regret what he was about to do, "I will not sit here any longer to be discussed as some sort of prize. Goodnight."
And with that Draco turned on his heel, walked out of the door and was absorbed into the night.
-------------------------------------
Draco stood before Hermione's door, staring at the plain, deep oak. He needed to talk to her. He had completely forgotten about the tradition of Malfoys being wed after graduation as it was not a subject he was particularly fond of. However, the mentioning of it by his Mother had made him realise there was only one person he wanted for a bride, but that person did not want him as anything. True, she had admitted that this was due to her fear of him being hurt, but didn't she see that he did not care? He wanted Hermione, not her power
A sharp tap broke Draco's concentration and to took him more than a second to realise he had knocked on the door. He turned to walk away but as he reached the stairs he heard her;
"Did you want something?"
Draco turned around to look at her; where was her anger at him?
"I...I, erm...I..."
"You...?"
"I had to see you." Draco blurted out.
"May I ask why?"
"May I come in?" Draco shot back, his patience at himself wearing thin.
Hermione look puzzled but obliged by pulling the door open further and allowing him inside. She made her way over to the settee and pile of papers, sitting down and clutching a steaming mug. Draco stood and looked in her beauty.
"Sit down." She suddenly snapped. He sat and felt a large Fire Whisky being shoved into his hands.
"It might clear your head." Hermione said simply, openly amused at Draco's vacant state. He nodded and sipped the Whisky; the amber liquid burned down his throat and was like a slap across the face. He knew why he had to talk to her.
"Promise you'll shut up and let me talk?" He asked.
"If you want." Hermione replied, a look of confusion on her face.
"OK," Draco sighed, "yet before I start I need to ask you; why the sudden change of heart? You hated me."
Hermione didn't answer straight away, but when she did her voice was strangely calm;
"I need you." She responded, "As much as I hate myself for it, I need you in my life. You are the only person who will not...who does not, judge me for my power. Ron knows little of it and is afraid, Ginny acts in a similar way and Harry thinks he understands and tries to but will never feel what I feel and even Dumbledore seems shaken by the whole thing. You and me, we connected. I know we did and I know you felt it too, and it was wonderful. I need you in my life again."
"Thank you." Draco whispered, unsure of what else to say. "I hope you can listen to me now." When Hermione only nodded, Draco continued; "There is a tradition in my family which dates back to the 15th Century and to my relative Delessor Malfoy. He..."
"I know it." Hermione suddenly called out and Draco stopped to stare at her.
"Firstly," he said, annoyed "you promised you wouldn't interrupt. Secondly, how the hell do you know about the tradition?"
"I read. Anyone who has any intelligence knows of the Malfoy wedding tradition. I found out about it last year and never mentioned it when we were going out because I hoped that maybe, if I wished hard enough, the tradition would cease to exist and you would marry me. I know it says you may only marry witches from wizarding families that date back to the Book of Gold. I am not one of them."
"I wish you were." Draco found himself saying. "I still love you 'Mi."
"No you don't Draco, you love the power I have, and the glory it will bring you. You enjoy being the King of everything you can. You proved that when you bet on me."
"God damnit Hermione, I don't want the bloody power or any glory. I want you. As cheesy and cliché as it sounds you are all I want. I made that stupid bet with Blaise without thinking and now look where it got me."
"200 Galleons better off." Hermione spat.
"Yes, and a Girlfriend worse off. I wish I hadn't done it but I can't go back and change it. You know that. All I can do is ask you to forgive me and believe me when I tell you that I only want you. The Gods can't stay with you forever but I don't care if they do as I don't want a relationship with a bunch of dead wizards whose name I can't pronounce properly. I love you and I want to be with you. We will see this war through until the end and we will survive it and when we do I will marry you."
Hermione gasped as she heard him. Draco gasped as he heard himself, yet he felt no need to take back the words he had just uttered.
"Really?" She whispered.
"Really really." Draco promised.
And as easily as it had all fallen apart, the burned bridges were rebuilt. Hermione flew into Draco's arms and he held her as if his heart would break without her. Carefully, he placed his fingers beneath her chin and lifted her face to look into the eyes he had missed so much. Unfallen tears shone in them and their lips met in a synthesis of love, passion and longing.
Draco lifted Hermione with ease and carried her to the bed where they stripped each other as if they could wait no longer. Draco's hands roamed her soft skin. It felt to him as if decades had passed and he caressed each section as if it were new to him; just to see if anything had changed. He closed his eyes as he travelled from her breasts to her stomach and his fingers passed over the ridges and grooves of the scar on her waist. His eyes darted open;
"How did you get that? You never told me."
Hermione clutched the bedclothes to her, fear in her eyes;
"Voldemort did it." She whispered. "Have you heard of the blade of Asriel?"
Draco nodded;
"Asriel was the first of the Dark Gods. He killed the first Innocent, the most powerful of them, Anthelia; the great Goddess, with a knife he forged from the power of the sky."
"Yes. The knife was created from the burning of the stars and the coolness of the moon, and it wields a great and terrible power. The legend says that the knife will kill anything to walk the earth, if it is plunged into them, unless they are worthy of its power."
"So Voldemort stabbed you to see if you died?" Draco gasped, outraged. "But you're his most prized possession."
"Proves how much of a bastard he is doesn't it? He was willing for me to die, but on some level he knew that I wouldn't. However, the knife, being forged by the Gods, has scarred me. I'll always have it"
"So you can withstand the blade?"
"Yes, which means I have the power Voldemort wants. Before the battle he will use the knife to transfer my power to him, making him almost indestructible when he fights Harry. I've already told Dumbledore and he's trying to think how we can turn it against Voldemort to out the power into Harry. Unfortunately that's proving difficult as the knife was forged by Asriel, a Dark One, and not by any of The Innocents."
Draco silently took Hermione's hand, speechless at what he had just heard and unsure of what else he could do. Soon he felt Hermione drift into sleep and he smiled to himself in the darkness, contemplating the knife of Asriel.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -
Two more things: as I said I have had SEVERE writers block with this Chapter and I am not at all happy with it, so it may get rewritten at some point (most likely when this is all finished). If it does get reworked I will post up saying so. Also, I have pinched the term "Book of Gold" for Draco's heritage from my dear friend Tamora Pierce :o)
Ebbe04, mattiemalfoy, DM/HG Lover, me, Draco_Fan, quiet-mg, KatarynMalfoy, feltons-no.1-dominatrix, dracohermioneluver, Keliyon, sweet-77-thang, HnDluver, InsanitySquirrel321, WiccaWitch, RaineMalfoy: Thank you for reading and reviewing, I hope you enjoy this Chapter, hopefully some of musings will be answered.
Sheilalein; I have explained as much of Hermione's power as I will at the moment. You learn slightly more in this Chapter and I promise it will climax eventually.
Miss Rhapsody; As always thank you for reviewing. I love getting them from you as they always make me smile. No other of my Chapters are different, only the last one which you have read. If I do decide ever to vary them again I will let everyone know.
buscemi Thank you. Yes, they know what a condom is but how boring is it to read "Draco slowly unravelled the condom onto himself as Hemrione waited patiently for him to finish". Personally I don't find it very sexy to read that so I ignore it and let people imagine what they want; a charm, the pill, condoms, a potion, anything you feel like.
dracohermioneluver; Your review confused me. Please explain a bit more.
N.B. They are not my puppets, I just make them dance.
Chapter 18-The Knife of Asriel
Draco crumpled up the letter in his hand, his eyes falling to the soft, green of the table cloth. A family meal was not what he needed right now, yet his Father was adamant that it was necessary and that Draco had to attend. They were never events to relish in and Draco severely doubted this one would be any different; the three of them would simply sit around, bitching about muggles, Hermione, Dumbledore and Potter, whilst plotting many manipulative plans as to how they cold dispose of them.
"Woo hoo!" Draco sighed, viciously stabbing his bacon and ignoring the looks the other Slytherins were giving him.
Blaise was particularly bothersome at the moment. His sharp, purple eyes were always watching Draco and Hermione, seemingly for some indication of what was going on there. Draco's performance at the revel seemed not to have quenched the thirst of the Slytherin who thought with his groin, and Draco was constantly considering how much of a threat Blaise really posed to Hermione's safety.
Draco's eyes involuntarily turned to the lioness as he thought of her. She was still the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes upon. She was everything he loved about the world; elegance, mystery, happiness and love all rolled into one. Her eyes glanced towards him and grey met green as, for the first time in along time, they connected above everything else.
Remembering his place Draco scowled and turned back to his breakfast. He had to speak with her. There were so many questions he needed to ask her about the revel and her powers. Any excuse to talk with her.
The family dinner would be on the Friday night so he would be able to go and see Hermione on the Saturday morning, if she wasn't doing anything with Pothead and Weasel. He could always pop in on his way back from the family dinner.
"Hey, Draco? You OK?" Blaise yelled up, obviously not phased by anything these days.
"Yeah, Drakie. You've been so quiet lately. Is something bothering you that I can help with?" This was Pansy, whispering into his left ear, whilst running her slim hand across his thigh. Draco closed his eyes, pretending it was Hermione but, failing miserably, he briskly shook the bony girl away with a flick of his wrist.
"I'm fine Pansy. Really."
Blaise simply smirked and returned to his conversation with Millicent whiles Pansy, disgruntled, sat in stony silence, occasionally glancing at Draco to regain his affections. But to no avail for Draco had fallen into deep thought, away from the conversations of his housemates and away from Hogwarts. In his mind, he was alone.
--------------------------------
Draco glanced at himself in the mirror. He truly was his father's son. An elegant black suit adorned his lean physique and around his shoulders he wore a black cape, lined with fine green silk and fastened with a silver snake clasp. Sneering he turned from the mirror and made his way from the castle to apparate from Hogsmeade, stalking through the corridors and not paying attention to the rest of the school;
"OW! Watch where you're going!" A female voice spat as books fell to the floor.
Without raising his eyes Draco bent to help retrieve the books. His hand brushed familiar, creamy skin and he lifted his eyes.
"Oh, it's you." Hermione whispered, her voice full of hope and sadness at the same time.
"So you weren't looking where you were going either?" Draco said, trying to engage in a conversation with her.
"Obviously not." Hermione snapped, grabbing her last book of him and turning away.
"Can I come by your rooms later?" Draco asked suddenly, cursing his illogical brain for thinking that saying that even classified as being remotely a good idea. Yet to his surprise Hermione turned.
"I'd like that." Was all she said before turning away once more.
Draco smiled to himself; nothing would put him in a bad mood tonight. He stalked from the castle and apparated to Malfoy Manor, his spirits higher than they had been for a while.
-----------------------------------
Draco was greeted at the door by a rather old and tired looking house elf wearing a potato sack.
"Renny welcomes Master Draco home tonight and hope Master Draco has a wonderful evening." The house elf spoke out, cautiously staying out of range of Dracos' arms and feet for fear of being kicked. Draco simply nodded and walked towards his mother's awkward greeting; a slight hug and a kiss on the cheek.
"Ah, Draco." His father's silky voice slid through the doorway, followed by the man himself. "Good to see you; it has been too long since we sat together as a family."
"It has Father." Draco replied robotically, removing his cape and tossing it to the house elf. "I was wondering when you would call me again. We have many things to discuss."
"Indeed we do." Lucius purred, his arm inching around his wife's waist. "Narcissa, dearest, myself and Draco will retire to the smoking room for the time being and will meet you in the dining room at nine for dinner."
Narcissa said nothing but walked away silently, muttering to herself about how Lucius was a bastard and she was better of without him.
Lucius laughed to himself, as if hearing his wife talk in such a way was simply a trick performed by a particularly amusing pet. Draco sighed and followed his father to the smoking room where a large balloon of Brandy and a best cigar were thrust upon him. He thanked his father and began to puff on the cancer stick whilst watching the amber liquid dance in the light as he swirled it around the delicate glass.
"I hear you won a bet Draco." Lucius suddenly announced, a smirk of evil upon his face.
Technically Draco had not won the bet but, knowing his father the best conversation would ensue if he said the right thing.
"Yes father."
"Would you care to elaborate Draco? You know how much I enjoy the details."
"Me and Blaise, at Christmas, placed a bet of 200 Galleons to see who could shag Granger first. At the revel I won."
"Although you had already won."
"That is true, but where would be the fun in that when I could make Blaise watch and deny him all chances of winning?"
Lucius' laugh was cold and cruel as he looked upon the son of whom he was so proud.
"So the Mudblood bitch finally got a good seeing to by the both of you? I am impressed."
"Thank you father."
"Now that we have discussed that issue we must progress onto further matters. Disposing of the little whore."
"Have you given it ay more thought father?"
"Your mother will be away throughout February on business for the Dark Lord, leaving us the perfect opportunity to strike. I know Narcissa would appreciate the show but I think of it as a bonding exercise between father and son."
Draco allowed a sincere smile to swim to the surface of his face.
"Of course Father."
"Now, I feel there is very little to be done in the way of planning as there is no doubt that the bitch will be brought down. The Gods know she deserves it after that display at the last revel; MacNair was one of our best men."
"You think he was innocent Father?" Draco found himself asking, unable to stop his wondering.
This question seemed to throw Lucius who had obviously not considered MacNair's guilt or innocence, only that it had bee the "filthy Mudblood" who had slain him. Yet, as always, Lucius maintained the aura of complete control and dignity.
"Who knows. I know I certainly don't care; he was a clumsy fool, although he was loyal. The point is Draco that it was SHE who killed him and we need to dispose of her. The plan is the same as before; lure her here on Valentine's night and we will slay her down. It will be simple but effective."
"Yes Father. What time should I be here?"
"Your Mother will be leaving at six so put in an appearance at seven and tell the Mudblood to be here at half past. Clear?"
"Yes Father."
Lucius gave Draco a rare nod of approval and together they returned to the dining room for dinner.
---------------------------
Draco sat between his parents at dinner that night with a sense of hatred gripping slowly around his heart. They were animals; he could see it now more than ever, nothing but cruel natured, evil animals. His Father was gloating about some innocent muggle he had captured and tortured into madness before setting them loose on a London street with a sword and bayonet where they had attempted to stab five civilians and had shot two others. Narcissa was laughing as the story progressed, apparently finding it the funniest thing she had ever heard.
Secretly wishing he could change the subject so it wouldn't appear to be obvious that he did not wish to discuss his Fathers 'triumphs', Draco amused himself by throwing in full blown evil cackles when it seemed the appropriate thing to do.
Half way through the splendid meal Narcissa turned to Draco and asked;
"And what about a bride Draco?"
Draco, who had not been listening tried to put what his Mother had said into something that resembled a cohesive context.
"I'm sorry Mother I think I must have phased out for a second. Could you please elaborate for me?"
"A bride, Draco, you will take a bride this summer. Who is it to be? I know our Lord is taken with the Mudblood, but with her out of the picture by the battle you will need someone else. What about that Millicent girl?"
"Millicent Bulstrode has a face like a pug." Draco sneered, much to his Father's enjoyment. Narcissa bristled;
"Well, Pansy has always bee popular with you."
"No, she hasn't Mother; I have been popular with her. There is subtle difference."
""There's always Blaise's sister. What's her name again?"
"Moirasa." Lucius spoke up, his eyes shining at the thought of the sexy blonde with the smouldering eyes.
Draco had met her once and she had been enough to turn his stomach. The evil within the soul of Moirasa was more than he had felt even in his Father. She was twisted, always had been. A year older than Blaise, Moirasa had attended Hogwarts and been Head Girl and the queen of Slytherin. She had taunted, bullied and manipulated her way through the school and then into Voldemort's deepest circle.
Draco had met her at a party once but had not seen her since becoming a Death Eater, being told she was in Japan researching the best way to torture The Order members that may survive the battle, and carrying out her studies on any muggle or Mudblood she could lay her hands on. The thought of being matchmaked to such a monster made Draco's blood boil and he stood from the table, eyes flashing;
"I will choose my bride myself and will not have you interfering." He said, knowing he would regret what he was about to do, "I will not sit here any longer to be discussed as some sort of prize. Goodnight."
And with that Draco turned on his heel, walked out of the door and was absorbed into the night.
-------------------------------------
Draco stood before Hermione's door, staring at the plain, deep oak. He needed to talk to her. He had completely forgotten about the tradition of Malfoys being wed after graduation as it was not a subject he was particularly fond of. However, the mentioning of it by his Mother had made him realise there was only one person he wanted for a bride, but that person did not want him as anything. True, she had admitted that this was due to her fear of him being hurt, but didn't she see that he did not care? He wanted Hermione, not her power
A sharp tap broke Draco's concentration and to took him more than a second to realise he had knocked on the door. He turned to walk away but as he reached the stairs he heard her;
"Did you want something?"
Draco turned around to look at her; where was her anger at him?
"I...I, erm...I..."
"You...?"
"I had to see you." Draco blurted out.
"May I ask why?"
"May I come in?" Draco shot back, his patience at himself wearing thin.
Hermione look puzzled but obliged by pulling the door open further and allowing him inside. She made her way over to the settee and pile of papers, sitting down and clutching a steaming mug. Draco stood and looked in her beauty.
"Sit down." She suddenly snapped. He sat and felt a large Fire Whisky being shoved into his hands.
"It might clear your head." Hermione said simply, openly amused at Draco's vacant state. He nodded and sipped the Whisky; the amber liquid burned down his throat and was like a slap across the face. He knew why he had to talk to her.
"Promise you'll shut up and let me talk?" He asked.
"If you want." Hermione replied, a look of confusion on her face.
"OK," Draco sighed, "yet before I start I need to ask you; why the sudden change of heart? You hated me."
Hermione didn't answer straight away, but when she did her voice was strangely calm;
"I need you." She responded, "As much as I hate myself for it, I need you in my life. You are the only person who will not...who does not, judge me for my power. Ron knows little of it and is afraid, Ginny acts in a similar way and Harry thinks he understands and tries to but will never feel what I feel and even Dumbledore seems shaken by the whole thing. You and me, we connected. I know we did and I know you felt it too, and it was wonderful. I need you in my life again."
"Thank you." Draco whispered, unsure of what else to say. "I hope you can listen to me now." When Hermione only nodded, Draco continued; "There is a tradition in my family which dates back to the 15th Century and to my relative Delessor Malfoy. He..."
"I know it." Hermione suddenly called out and Draco stopped to stare at her.
"Firstly," he said, annoyed "you promised you wouldn't interrupt. Secondly, how the hell do you know about the tradition?"
"I read. Anyone who has any intelligence knows of the Malfoy wedding tradition. I found out about it last year and never mentioned it when we were going out because I hoped that maybe, if I wished hard enough, the tradition would cease to exist and you would marry me. I know it says you may only marry witches from wizarding families that date back to the Book of Gold. I am not one of them."
"I wish you were." Draco found himself saying. "I still love you 'Mi."
"No you don't Draco, you love the power I have, and the glory it will bring you. You enjoy being the King of everything you can. You proved that when you bet on me."
"God damnit Hermione, I don't want the bloody power or any glory. I want you. As cheesy and cliché as it sounds you are all I want. I made that stupid bet with Blaise without thinking and now look where it got me."
"200 Galleons better off." Hermione spat.
"Yes, and a Girlfriend worse off. I wish I hadn't done it but I can't go back and change it. You know that. All I can do is ask you to forgive me and believe me when I tell you that I only want you. The Gods can't stay with you forever but I don't care if they do as I don't want a relationship with a bunch of dead wizards whose name I can't pronounce properly. I love you and I want to be with you. We will see this war through until the end and we will survive it and when we do I will marry you."
Hermione gasped as she heard him. Draco gasped as he heard himself, yet he felt no need to take back the words he had just uttered.
"Really?" She whispered.
"Really really." Draco promised.
And as easily as it had all fallen apart, the burned bridges were rebuilt. Hermione flew into Draco's arms and he held her as if his heart would break without her. Carefully, he placed his fingers beneath her chin and lifted her face to look into the eyes he had missed so much. Unfallen tears shone in them and their lips met in a synthesis of love, passion and longing.
Draco lifted Hermione with ease and carried her to the bed where they stripped each other as if they could wait no longer. Draco's hands roamed her soft skin. It felt to him as if decades had passed and he caressed each section as if it were new to him; just to see if anything had changed. He closed his eyes as he travelled from her breasts to her stomach and his fingers passed over the ridges and grooves of the scar on her waist. His eyes darted open;
"How did you get that? You never told me."
Hermione clutched the bedclothes to her, fear in her eyes;
"Voldemort did it." She whispered. "Have you heard of the blade of Asriel?"
Draco nodded;
"Asriel was the first of the Dark Gods. He killed the first Innocent, the most powerful of them, Anthelia; the great Goddess, with a knife he forged from the power of the sky."
"Yes. The knife was created from the burning of the stars and the coolness of the moon, and it wields a great and terrible power. The legend says that the knife will kill anything to walk the earth, if it is plunged into them, unless they are worthy of its power."
"So Voldemort stabbed you to see if you died?" Draco gasped, outraged. "But you're his most prized possession."
"Proves how much of a bastard he is doesn't it? He was willing for me to die, but on some level he knew that I wouldn't. However, the knife, being forged by the Gods, has scarred me. I'll always have it"
"So you can withstand the blade?"
"Yes, which means I have the power Voldemort wants. Before the battle he will use the knife to transfer my power to him, making him almost indestructible when he fights Harry. I've already told Dumbledore and he's trying to think how we can turn it against Voldemort to out the power into Harry. Unfortunately that's proving difficult as the knife was forged by Asriel, a Dark One, and not by any of The Innocents."
Draco silently took Hermione's hand, speechless at what he had just heard and unsure of what else he could do. Soon he felt Hermione drift into sleep and he smiled to himself in the darkness, contemplating the knife of Asriel.
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Two more things: as I said I have had SEVERE writers block with this Chapter and I am not at all happy with it, so it may get rewritten at some point (most likely when this is all finished). If it does get reworked I will post up saying so. Also, I have pinched the term "Book of Gold" for Draco's heritage from my dear friend Tamora Pierce :o)