This is it…the chapter you have all been waiting for! (hopefully).
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Chapter 8.
It was late afternoon and Hermione returned to the Gryffindor tower where she was greeted by a frantic Sarah. Her brown limp hair was strewn over her face, sticking to it because of sweat and grime. Sarah was wringing her hands and looked absolutely terrified. Hermione took her over to where she normally slept and sat her down on the cold floor, taking Sarah's equally cold and clammy hands into hers and squeezing them gently.
"What's wrong Sarah?" Hermione asked, concerned as to what Sarah was so worried about.
"Daisy…Voldemort…so long…alone…scared-"Sarah babbled.
"Whoa, Sarah, calm down." Hermione interrupted. Sarah was immediately quiet. "Take a deep breath." Sarah sucked in so much breath that it made a noise as it was sucked inside her lungs. "Start from the beginning and say it slowly."
Sarah nodded and started again. "We went to Voldemort's chambers, but then he asked for me to leave, and for Daisy to say, so I left, and that was hours ago! Hermione, Daisy was so scared! I'm so worried." Sarah broke into tears, but Hermione did not comfort her. Hermione's gaze was fixed at the door way, her eyes watering and her mouth agape.
"Slaves." A voice hissed, getting the attention of the room. The slaves turned to the source of the voice and bowed, the room was silent. But the Hermione did not bow; she only glared at the Death Eaters in the room. "Why do you not bow, slave?" Crabbe growled. The slaves turned to look at Hermione, and she could feel Sarah pulling down on her hand, but she did not bow.
"What have you done?" She asked, sounding as sinister as Crabbe had.
The Death Eater's smirked to themselves and Goyle untied a black bag he had been carrying. He held it over the floor, and a petite body fell out.
"No!" Hermione screamed, running past the slaves and sliding on the floor in front of Daisy's limp body. She turned the body over so Daisy's face was facing hers and felt for a pulse at her neck. Finding none, she screamed with anguish and hugged Daisy's body, her eyes shut and her mouth blue. "Why? Why?" Hermione sobbed, tears falling down her cheek, splashing on Daisy's porcelain face. The slaves behind her were in shock, not only was she disobeying the Death-Eaters, she was crying. Hermione never cried, she was the strong one who soothed and comforted people who cried, she never cried. The Death Eater's smile grew at every sob and tear, and silently, after shooting an evil leer at Sarah, they left the Gryffindor tower, which was now cold and depressing because the usual silence was rocked by Hermione's cries.
"Hermione?" Asked a young slave called Franny. The young slave knelt down next to Hermione, her long black hair covering her back. "Don't cry." She said, rubbing Hermione's back.
Hermione only sobbed hardly and Franny looked helplessly back to the other slaves, all of them equally helpless as Franny was. Hermione was supposed to be strong, their rock, their mom, and it was a completely new ordeal for Hermione to be crying.
Hermione face was buried into Daisy's soft blonde hair, which fell down to the floor. Why? Why Daisy, of all people why Daisy? Hermione felt empty, everything had changed now. All those other girls who had been killed before were never close to her, she had been sad for them of course, but she had just figured that this was the way things were. It could not be any different. But when the Death Eater's had walked into the Gryffindor tower, she had known something was wrong. And when Daisy's limp and petite body had fallen to the floor with a thump, Hermione's vision had been clouded, blurred, she only saw Daisy and heard a maniacal laugh that she knew belonged to Voldemort. She barely registered the Death Eater's leaving, Franny trying to soothe her by rubbing her back, Parvati and Sarah huddling around Hermione, trying to get her to stop crying. She knew it was scaring them. For someone as strong as her to be crying, to be giving in to Voldemort was terrifying the girls, but she didn't care.
Why can't I be weak for once? Why not me? Why do I have to take care of everyone else when no one will take care of me?
Why? Why this, why that? Because she had taken this upon her self the moment Voldemort had forced them to be slaves. It's your fault that no one takes care of you, and it's your fault that Daisy is dead. Remember Flint? Remember? It's your fault that Daisy is dead.
Hermione felt suffocated, she felt trapped and she dropped Daisy on the ground and ran, ran out of the Gryffindor tower, ignoring all of the calls behind her. She took the back corridors that were used by slaves, she ran and she cried. She cried for everything, for Daisy, for Ron, for Neville, for her parents and for all the people who were yet to die. She cried and ran until she couldn't think, it was just a routine now, crying and running. She didn't even know where she was going, her feet carried her to her unknown destination, blindly turning corners and skidding past rooms. She didn't notice her surroundings, she didn't notice when she automatically said "Dragon" and she didn't notice when she flung herself in Draco's arms, burying her head in his robes, whispering "She's dead" over and over until she exhausted herself into a slumber.
***
When Hermione woke up, she did notice things. For one, she was warm, which was the first time in several years that she had woken up warm. She was also comfortable, which was also strange because she never comfortable when she was asleep. Hermione raised her head and looked at her surroundings, recognizing the décor of the room. She blushed and looked behind her. Sure enough, there was the silky blond hair, the pale face, gorgeous features and muscular body that belonged to Draco Malfoy, son of the late Lucius Malfoy, the right-hand man of Lord Voldemort and her master.
She smiled; Draco looked so peaceful when he was asleep. The sunlight streamed through the window and landed on his face, making him look absolutely adorable.
She carefully removed the silver blanket which was lying on top of her and placed it instead on Malfoy's body, which was coverless. She swung her legs onto the floor and stood up, stretching as she did so. She had been sleeping on an armchair, the same one that Malfoy had seated her on when he gave her tea.
She slowly crept towards the door, and was about to leave when:
"Are you alright?"
Hermione whipped around and saw Malfoy, an arms length away from her. She was surprised that she hadn't heard him move, but she pushed that thought away.
"Soon, I will be." Hermione answered. Malfoy nodded and took her by the hand, leading her to the armchair were they had both previously occupied. Hermione did not protest, she was too weak for that, the running and crying she had done last night had exhausted her out completely. Malfoy sat next to her, the armchair just big enough for two, and wrapped his strong arms around them. Hermione leaned her head on his shoulder, enjoying the touch of his hand stroking her arm. She knew this was wrong, that she was a slave and he was her master, but there was no harm in this. He was only comforting her…right?
"You seemed pretty distressed last night. Want to talk about it?" He asked gently, his fingers trailing circles on her arm, causing shivers down her spine.
"They killed Daisy." She whispered, but Malfoy heard her and stiffened.
"Who?"
Hermione clenched her teeth and curled her fists. "Voldemort." She hissed. Malfoy looked at her, taken back by how angry she was. He took one of her hands and uncurled it, trying to make Hermione calm down. But all it did was make her eyes tear, her anger disappearing and sadness and despair replacing it.
"Hey, don't cry." Draco said, being extremely uncomfortable. He had no experience of soothing a crying girl before, so he had no idea what to do.
"It's my entire fault." She hissed, her fists clenched, tears falling down her cheeks furiously. "If I hadn't been friends with her, than they wouldn't have picked her. If only-"
"If only what?" Draco asked quietly. "If only you hadn't been nice to her? If only you hadn't looked after her?" Hermione nodded quietly. "It was a good thing that you looked after her."
"But it got her killed."
"No. In that bastard's eyes, everyone is the same, if it wasn't Daisy, it could have been someone else."
Hermione sniffed. "But it was Daisy."
"It wasn't your fault. You can't let this get you down." Draco sighed, looking into her eyes, a genuine hurt look on his face. "I'm just glad it wasn't you."
Hermione gasped, and he stared intently into her eyes.
"What are you saying?" She breathed, trying desperately to look away, but she found she was held in his gaze.
"I'm glad it wasn't you." He repeated, and the small distance between their faces was closed as Draco kissed her.
Finally! YAY!! In with the romance!!
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