Disclaimer: Don't believe their lies! They're just trying to get rid of the little people…like me! There is no JK Rowling…she doesn't exist, she's a figment of their imagination used to control us! This figment has made us slaves! Slaves to the man! They are controlling us through Harry Potter! Subliminal messages! Every time you read it another part of your brain gets ::sluuurped:: PS: The purpose of this rant was to inform you that Annie does not own Harry Potter, she is a drooling, brainless slave just like everyone else, and is insanely jealous of JK Rowling. However if Annie had created Harry Potter, she would have used it to take over the world, not to become richer then the queen.
Flash backs-
Chapter Two: Where Love is Lacking
Where love rules, there is no will to power;
And where power predominates,
There love is lacking.
The one is the shadow of the other.
--Carl Jung
The night stole quietly across the land, blanketing the emerald hills in silence, wrapping around the homes below like lover's arms, holding the sleepers close as the dreamed away the darkest hours. But sleep was not kindly to one young girl. She tossed and turned beneath her blanket, frantic murmurs escaping through her parted lips as her head tossed side to side on the pillow, she cried out for reassurance, her blankets rustled disturbing the silence like a stone dropped into a still pond. But the night was the only witness to the girl's pain, the only companion in her misery, and it wept along with her.
The sound of rain woke Hermione from her restless slumber, breaking through the nightmarish images that had entrapped her subconscious. She gave a final whimper as the last image flashed through her mind and then disappeared, as elusive as a wisp of smoke. Sitting up in the giant blue bed she brought her knees to her chest and pillowed her clammy forehead in her hands, trying to remember the dream she had been having, the nightmare she couldn't escape. There had been snippets of conversation, she recalled, with Harry, with Dumbledore, with Draco and Lucius. Eyes, eyes a glowing crimson, like fresh spilt blood.
Like the blood of a sacrifice spilling across an altar. Sacrifice. Hermione felt a chill run through her at the thought. Undoubtedly there would be sacrifices in the war, sacrifices made by her, by her friends, sacrifices that cut to the bone, sacrifices that would scar them for the remainder of their lives, if they lived though the war…but it had always seemed so far away, so distant, but now with the war looming over all of their heads, it had become something more tangible, something that was always hovering in her subconscious.
Hermione's palms brushed across her damp cheeks and it was then Hermione realized she had been crying. Hurriedly wiping the tears away with the backs of her hands she let out a small moan. Why couldn't she remember the nightmare? What had she dreamed that had made her feel so afraid, so terrified she was in tears?
Giving a small shudder Hermione lay back down, pulling the covers tightly about her despite the fact that she was sweating and the rumpled blankets provided no comfort. She turned over agitatedly, the hot linen rasping across the skin left bare by the blue silk nightgown that had been in the dresser, the touch of the blankets aggravated Hermione to no end, giving up she kicked the blankets off and lay on her back, the cool night air caressing her skin and soothing her frayed nerves. Closing her eyes she willed sleep to come, but it was deaf to her call and Hermione found herself wide awake and her mind awhirl.
Acknowledging the fact that sleep would not be visiting her again Hermione rose and walked to the window, pressing her hot forehead against the cool glass she stared out across the fields and watched as the torrential rain fell from the grey sky to the dark earth be low.
There was something soothing about the sound of rain, Hermione decided. It left one feeling warm and complete no matter where they were or what situation they found themselves in, the sound was always the same. Giving a small sigh Hermione stepped away from the window and sank into the blue arm chair, folding her legs under her she continued to watch as the rain fell, and let the gentle tapping of the rain on glass soothe her troubled thoughts.
Hermione found that when she was at a loss of what to do, it was better to sit back, look at all of your options, and let the answers come to you…and making a list didn't hurt. What she needed, Hermione decided was a nice cup of tea and her cat. That brought her up short.
Where was Crookshanks, her darling orange familiar? Now that she thought of it, where were any of her belongings? Hermione gave a disgusted sigh and added it to her growing list of "things to ask Draco in the morning" which she had been compiling in her head due to the deplorable lack of parchment in the room...she should have nicked some from Lucius's office while she had had the chance.
She frowned, so scratch Crookshanks. Now that cup of tea. Recalling the seemingly endless trek up to her room from the ground floor and an article she had read on the notoriously dodgy floo systems in older homes, she decided to forgo the tea as well.
Sighing she continued her mental list making, lacking both tea and a cat. Hermione closed her eyes began to sort through her options. No more then a minuet later Hermione's eyes snapped open in frustration and she stood up from her chair and began to pace back in forth from door to window.
How could she form a plan when she didn't know anything? Lucius's speech this afternoon hadn't cleared up any of her questions, in fact his little tirade had divulged nothing at all, she knew he had all the answers, and that was what she needed, answers.
She needed answers to the questions that had been nagging her since she had woken up in the hospital bed in Saint Mungo's, answers to questions that had just formed in the time it took her to finish her first ringer around the room. Yes, she needed answers and the only way to get them would be to go through Lucius…but how? She couldn't just go up to him and demand answers…she didn't even have her wand so she could hardly force them out of him.
He probably had all those answers locked up in his study…
Hermione's head snapped up and her golden eyes went immediately to the fireplace in front of her bed. She had just flooed to his office several hours before, and she could do it again. Narcissa was in France, visiting a friend that much she had learned from Lucius and judging by the light (or lack thereof) Draco and Lucius would both be fast asleep. Standing in front of the fireplace she decided that getting some closure was worth the risk of becoming lost in the floo network, in fact the chances of that happening were very small, no matter what "Dangers of the Wizarding World" said.
Before she had any second thoughts Hermione squared her shoulders and showing a large amount of Gryffindor courage, or Gryffindor stupidity as Draco would call it, threw a pinch of floo powder from the jar on the mantelpiece into the flames, and without so much as a whimper stepped into the green flames and said quite clearly
"Third Floor Study"
XOXOXOXOXOXO
The fireplace in Lucius's study gave an enormous belch and for the second time that day Hermione was sent sprawling arse over elbow onto the green carpeted floor. With a small whimper Hermione rose to her feet slowly. Giving a small, wincing, stretch she surveyed the room with interest. She hadn't really gotten a very good look at it earlier in the day, she had been a wee bit preoccupied with the man who sat at the desk.
The dying fire cast a dim glow which faintly illuminated the room. Grimacing slightly Hermione took in the room. Hermione grudgingly admitted it was tastefully decorated, just like the rest of the house…but it was just so…so…so green! Green and silver were the predominate colors in this household being that all three of the Malfoy's were Slytherin.
Hermione just thanked her lucky stars that her room was done in blues and not greens. She probably would have gone insane if that had been the case. On the side closest to where she stood with her back to the fireplace were two deep leather arm chairs that faced each other and a coffee table of wood so dark it's sheen was blue in the silver light, on the far side of the room two large floor to ceiling windows broke the interminable expanse of creamy white walls, and in between the tall windows sat the intimidating desk of smooth dark wood where Lucius had sat earlier that day.
On both walls to the right and left of her were enormous book cases of the same dark wood that stretched the height of the wall. They were both filled to bursting with books and interesting looking magical contraptions, in fact the book cases were both so full they sides strained, give the shelves a rotund appearance. Behind her to the right of the fireplace was a door which must have led to the hallway, and another door on the wall across from the painting which must lead to a bathroom or a library.
Completing her study of the room she set to work. Skirting around the desk she stood in front of the book case and gently ran her fingertips over the spines of the books as she skimmed through the titles. Modern Medicine for the Modern Mediwitch, Lucius didn't exactly strike her as the kind of man who was overly concerned with the welfare of others, inflicting the wounds that called for a mediwitch seemed more like his cup of tea. Hogwarts a History, Moste Potent Potions, Fact or Fiction; The Founding Four, The Harrowing History of the Wizarding World, Lockhart; The Complete Set Hermione paused as she came along that particular row of books and stifled a snicker, she supposed Narcissa must share the bookshelf with Lucius, or Lucius had some interesting tastes. Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy, Hermione sneered, the Malfoys probably had a nice long chapter all about them in there, having skimmed all the bookshelves and found nothing of interest (not that she had expected to) she moved to the desk.
Taking a seat in the green leather arm chair she leaned forward to open the lowest drawer, lifting the stack of papers she found there to the desk, she pushed aside several financial reports, which assured her the Malfoys were very well off, she came across an official looking piece of parchment, there was nothing terribly special about the paper, nothing that should have caught her eye. But following her base instincts she brought the parchment right up to her nose so that she could make out the elegant writing in the dim lighting afforded by the full moon which was, at the moment, obscured by clouds pregnant with rain. Under the official seal of the ministry was a lengthy paragraph that she simply would have skimmed if something hadn't caught her eye.
Her name.
Starting over, she read from the beginning. Sifting through all the legal jargon she found the purpose of the letter. It was to inform Mr. Lucius Malfoy that Hermione Bennett had been added to the Prestigious House of Malfoy family tree in the Ministry records. Stifling a snort she flipped past the letter to the paper underneath. A copy of the said family tree. Returning the rest of the papers to the drawer, she began to study the family tree. At the top in large emerald green letters it said
The Most Noble and Ancient House of Malfoy
"Le Pur"
"Not so pure now are you?" Hermione sneered, for all of Lucius' lies she didn't really believe she was a pureblood.
She gave a small smile at the sight of the unfamiliar name that was now hers. She had been Hermione Ann Granger for the last fifteen years and now finally she was rid of that last name (and she didn't even have to get married to do it!). Finally near the bottom she came across her mother's name, Adrianna, which was linked to David Bennett by a double line of green ink, and from there a single vertical green line led to her name, Hermione Ann Bennett.
Intent on studying the family tree she almost didn't hear the creaking of floorboards outside of the office until it was too late. Hurriedly she returned the family tree and the letter and slammed the drawer shut, giving a panicked look around the office she dove into the doorway to the left of the fireplace.
Closing the door softly behind her, she waited, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure the entire house could hear it, and her breath came in short, raspy, gasps as she listened for the sound of the office door to open. She didn't have long to wait at all before it came, the moan of well oiled hinges, followed by light footsteps. Leaning back against the door, she slid down until she was seated on the cold marble floor of the room she was hidden in.
XOXOXOXOXO
The figure moved down the hall, as silent and swift as a shadow. The man was clothed all in black, the only reprieve being the cold glint of silver that obscured the shadow's features from sight. Reaching the door of the third floor study, the silhouette paused, a pale hand rose and long, graceful fingers found the edges of the silver mask, slowly pulling it off the figure revealed smooth, pale skin, and a satisfied smirk.
Giving a small sigh of contentment Lucius opened the door to his study, and stepped inside his sanctuary. He walked towards his desk, shedding the heavy dark robes that were saturated with the scent of smoke, blood, and fear, as he went. He placed the silver mask on his desk, and flung his robes over the back of his chair for the house elves to remove, and soon enough his lean frame followed the robes.
Lucius sank into the chair, enjoying the moan the leather gave as he leaned back and closed his eyes, satisfied. Momentarily, his pale eyes opened cold and calculating, eyes that were at odds with his relaxed posture, and at ease expression. Straightening in his chair, he snapped his fingers, an arrogant expression adorning his aristocratic features. With a loud crack and a puff of greenish smoke a house-elf appeared. The small creature was wearing a sheet wrapped around its self toga-style, three layers of socks on it's feet, all of different colors and patters, and an oven mitt on its head.
The house-elf's head was dipped so low its long skinny nose brushed the ground and its shining bulbous green eyes were mere inches from the floor, its small frame was shaking in fear and apprehension.
"Yes master? You be calling for Gradie?" the small house-elf whipped off the kitchen mitt it wore as a hat, and dipped a low curtsy, revealing it's knobby, green knees.
Not bothering to hide the disgust he felt for the pitiful creature before him he said "Fetch me Draco." And, just as quickly as the tiny creature had appeared, it was gone.
XOXOXOXXO
Hermione had abandoned her seat on the marble floor for a position had by small boys and girls (and numerous teenagers) to eavesdrop on their elders for centuries. She had risen up onto her knees, her flimsy, pale blue night gown wrapped around her legs, her face was pressed against the door, one eye peering out through the key hole and her hands braced on either side of her head. Hermione frowned as she listened to the manner in which Lucius spoke to Gradie the house-elf. Possessing what some would call a one track mind, her thoughts went immediately to house elf liberation, she wondered if Gradie would be interested in joining S.P.E.W, after all Dobby, the first happily liberated house-elf, had once belonged to Lucius. Now that she thought of it, this house was a venerable crop of house-elves waiting to be liberated.
She pushed thoughts of S.P.E.W to the side for the moment and peered determinedly through the key hole, but nothing could be seen except for Lucius's reclining figure, and strained her ears but no sound could be heard besides her quiet breathing. Leaning away from the door she sat back down. Her eyes having adjusted to the dim interior of the room, she was now able to see where she was. It was a small room, a closet really. On either side of her were hung cloaks, green cloaks, black cloaks, grey cloaks, even a strangely out of place blue cloak which she supposed was probably hers (she really must talk to them about giving her another color to wear besides blue). Hermione Granger had been reduced to hiding in incongruous cloak closets and eavesdropping on one of the most dangerous men in the Wizarding World…yup…things were really looking up.
XOXOXOXOXO
Draco slept lightly, and all though shallow, it did not exempt him from the tortuous nightmare's that seemed to prey on the sleepers in the Malfoy Mansion. Sweat beaded his upper lip and his breath was ragged, but he did not move. He slept in the same position every night, out of both habit and necessity, and did not stray from it. He was on his stomach, his hand underneath his pillow resting on his wand, and his head turned towards the door. His was the sleep of a predator, or of prey that knew it was being stalked. He did not allow his nightmares to disrupt his vigilance and he woke immediately at the sound of tapping on his doors.
His eyes snapped open, alert and already fixed on the door as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, his wand trained on the creature that had just walked through the locked door. It gave a terrified squeak at the sight of his wand, falling to the floor and covering its head with its twig-like arms. Draco could just make out Gradie's pleas for mercy, muffled by the carpet and its arms.
"Gradie!" he growled, lowering his wand in disgust "How many times have I told you to knock!" he exclaimed running a hand through his platinum hair, sending the unruly locks into even further disarray.
Gradie picked its self up from the floor, dropping a quick curtsey, it said in a proud voice "Gradie did knock sir!" looking unduly pleased with its self.
Draco sighed, Gradie had entirely missed the point, once again. "Yes you did Gradie…brilliant. What was it that you needed?" he asked closing his eyes tiredly.
Gradie gave a horrified squeal "Oh no! Gradie has almost forgot, master will be most displeased! Master is wanting to see you in his study right away sir!" dropping another curtsy Gradie disappeared in a puff of smoke.
Giving a small groan Draco stood up, scratching his chest idly as he moved towards the fireplace. Picking up his discarded jeans from earlier that day, he pulled them on over his black knickers, and buttoned them over his lean hips, more for comfort than for modesty's sake. Forgoing a shirt, he grabbed a pinch of floo and threw it into the dieing embers of his fireplace and said clearly "Third Floor Study".
XOXOXOXOX
Lucius had just stoked the fire to warm the room when the flames turned a sudden emerald green, and his son emerged, looking rumpled but alert.
"Ah Draco, thank you for joining me, please, have a seat." Lucius purred, his voice silky and oh so sweet. Draco was instantly on guard. His father wanted something.
XOXOXOX
Hermione watched from her hiding place in the cloak closet as Draco sank into the nearest chair; his long legs stretched out in front of him, and crossed at the ankles his fingers steepled. While Lucius' fingers were also steepled, his legs were crossed, his left calf resting lightly on his right thigh. A small smirk graced both their lips, and to Hermione who was watching intently through the key hole, it appeared eerily as if she were observing a man looking into a full length mirror and in the back of her mind Hermione was reminded that the reflection seen in a mirror is an exact opposite of the beholder. Lucius' voice broke through her reverie.
"Being that you are my heir it falls to you to carry on and maintain the reputation of the name Malfoy in a manner befitting that of a pureblood male. As my heir you are charged with certain duties and obligations. You are now fifteen, and I feel you are ready to begin shouldering some of these responsibilities," here he paused as if waiting for a reaction, from what Hermione could see Draco's stoic mask had not cracked, "I feel you are ready to stand by my side in ensuring the purity of the Wizarding world, you are ready to be inducted into the ranks of the Death Eaters." And here Hermione saw Draco blanch, and her lip quirked in sympathy, no one deserved to have that throne in their face, not even Draco…although he must have been expecting this.
XOXOXOXO
And he had.
Draco had been expecting this since he was seven years old and Theodore Nott had angrily shattered any illusions Draco had about his father and the men he met with late at night.
Draco stood in the gardens behind the Malfoy manor, his platinum hair glinting in the white hot sun, his bare feet were dirty from playing outside and planted firmly on the cobblestone paths that were almost unbearably hot, warmed by the unforgiving summer sun. The stone path wove through the patchwork of colors, red and green and pink and brown, rose bushes and trees, all of the colors and textures sharpened by the blinding light of summer time. This was where he and Nott played, where they told silly stories and laughed. But their laughter had been silenced by his last words. And now his grubby hands were balled into fists at his side as he tried to ignore the taunting of his friend, as the faced off in their childhood haven.
"Is that what you think they do Draco?" Theodore sneered, his already unpleasant face twisting up into a repulsive mockery of a smile "Sit around and chat over a nice glass of port?" he threw his head back and laughed, the sound ringing through the still, hot air of summer. And then his laughter cut off abruptly as he brought his eyes level with Draco's cold grey ones.
"Do you know what our fathers are Draco?" he queried hotly, his face flushed with anger. Draco shook his head, no. "They're Death Eaters, Draco. The men our teachers talk about when they think we aren't listening, the men the ministry is trying to catch-"
"No!" Draco cut off the older boy, his grey eyes filled with tears "You're lying! My father isn't a Death Eater!" he shouted, his heart racing in his small chest
"Bad men Draco," Nott continued mercilessly, "they've killed people, probably kids just like us, and one day, we'll be just like them." Nott finished quietly, his eyes downcast as he fought back tears. He was angry, so angry. And afraid, and he didn't want to be alone in it. If he had to face this, then so did Draco. That was only fair.
It was only fair.
Draco wasn't going to be like Lucius. He wasn't going to be like Nott. He was not going to follow in his fathers footsteps. He wasn't doing this out of some false sense of duty to the people he knew at Hogwarts, to Dumbledore or his teachers, nor was it out of some urgent need to be valiant. He wasn't a martyr, or a hero. He would never be any of those things, he had not discovered his inner altruist, and he never would. No, his motives were purely selfish. He didn't want to serve. Not Voldemort, not anyone. He was not the sycophant his father was, and he was to willful to bend his neck. He was too proud. And he would not take orders from a genocidal mad man. He would not. He would not allow his life to be destroyed by a mockery of a human being. He would not be submissive. Draco Malfoy served no man. He would not fight in this war. On any side, first and foremost in Draco's thoughts was Draco. Self interest drove Draco's decision. Nothing more. Draco didn't want to die for a cause he didn't believe in.
"No." Draco sneered, his pale eyes flashing defiantly.
Before this he had never given Lucius any reason to doubt his loyalty, he had done as he was told for the last fifteen years of his life. Everything. But not in this. He would not sacrifice his freedom for his father's approval. Now, well, now he was making his intentions known, and he would not back down.
XOXOXOXOXO
Hermione drew in a sharp breath at Draco's answer. No? No he wasn't going to become a death eater? Did that mean that he was on their side? That he was fighting for the light? It never occurred to her that there wasn't just two sides, there wasn't just black and white, good and evil, but grey areas, and that that was where Draco inextricably lay, he was a grey patch whose loyalties lay only with himself.
XOXOXOXO
"No?" Lucius queried in a silky voice, his pale lips quirked in a half smile "Do you care to explain." It was a statement, not a question. Draco met his eyes, their faces mirror images, identical pale eyes flashing, lips tilted, and fingers steepled.
"No, I will not serve Voldemort." He said in a recalcitrant tone of voice.
"That's Lord Voldemort." Lucius said his soft voice and sweet tone belying his growing anger. Or perhaps illustrating it, for Draco knew his father very well, after all, he saw his father in his reflection every time he looked in the mirror, and heard him in his own voice every time he spoke. He was his father. But not this time.
"He is not my lord, and he never will be." Draco imitated his father's voice, silky soft and sugary sweet, like poisoned honey.
"You do not have a choice in this matter, your initiation is imminent and it would be best if you acclimated yourself to the situation beforehand, it will make things run much more smoothly." Lucius snapped, his temper short
"Father, I have said it already, but I will say it again." He paused for effect, looking his father squarely in the eye as he struggled to maintain his composure. "I am not joining Voldemort."
"You are not in a position to refuse boy!" Lucius said angrily, standing up, Draco rose with him
"I believe I am, and I do refuse." Draco said, angry spots of color high on his cheekbones.
Lucius' lips twisted into a snarl, his grey eyes alight with fury and with deliberate movements he raised his arm and brought the back of his hand smashing across Draco's face, snapping his head to the side, but other wise he gave no sign of pain. Breathing heavily Lucius brought his hand back to his side, watching as Draco turned his head back to stare at him, his lips set in a straight line and his eyes furious.
"Go back to your room Draco," Lucius snapped "and in the morning I expect you to be more obedient. Now go!"
XOXOXOXOXO
Hermione watched as Draco turned and stepped into the fireplace, a quiet "Draco's bedroom" and he was gone, tired beyond belief Hermione turned and slid down the door to the floor, leaning her head back she stared at the ceiling, trying to repress the memories which seemed bent on playing mind games, and the tears which seemed determined to fall She wanted to go to bed, but she had to wait until Lucius left.
XOXOXOXO
Lucius sat down heavily in the chair behind his desk, sighing he rubbed his temples, what had he done wrong? He had been grooming Draco for this part since he was a child. He had never expected Draco to deny him this. It wasn't heard of for a son to openly defy a father. He would not have it. He would speak to Draco in the morning. Sitting up, Lucius leaned down and opened the bottom drawer of his desk, his hand paused over the family tree. A small frown adorned his face as he lifted it out, he had not left it on the top. He glanced around the room, his eyes lingering on the door that lead to the coat room, his lips curved up into a small predatory smile, his eyes flashing dangerously.
"Curiosity killed the cat, you know." He said to the seemingly empty room.
Smiling he rose and crossed the room to the closet door. Placing a hand on the doorknob he grinned, Hermione's fear was almost tangible in the silent room, and he even fancied he could hear her heart pounding on the other side. Leaning his head against the door he whispered, just loud enough so that Hermione could hear "Pleasant dreams my dear." Then he turned and left, smirking as he closed the office door behind him and strode purposely towards his bedroom down the hall.
XOXOXOXO
Hermione didn't dare breathe until she heard the door close as Lucius left. She placed a shaking hand to her heart, taking deep breathes. Lucius had known she was there. Had talked to her. Turning around she peered out the key hole, making sure he was really gone. Standing up she gave a groan as she unfolded her stiff legs. Opening the closet door she crossed swiftly to the fireplace, taking a pinch of floo powder she said "Hermione's room" and disappeared into the flames.
Groaning Hermione collapsed onto her bed. Flinging a hand over her eyes she let the flood of emotions she had felt while watching the arguments wash over her. Sorrow, pain, anger, defiance, denial, horror, helplessness all things she felt when she was in the middle of a row. She remembered the first one when sorrow and helplessness, confusion, and pain had taken predominance over the more familiar companion of anger. The one last year. With Harry. The one when things began to change.
"What the hell was that Hermione?" the voice came from the shadows
Hermione whirled around, her periwinkle robes billowing around her slim frame. She had been looking out over the gardens, and contemplating simply leaving the dance and going up to her room and curling up with a good book when the voice had cut through the darkness like a keen edged blade.
"Harry!" she exclaimed "You startled me!" she gave a weak smile at the form that coalesced from the shadows.
"What was that?" he repeated, his green eyes flashing, his posture rigid
"What was what?" Hermione asked, confused
Harry took a step towards her "Why are you here with Krum?" he asked in a dangerously soft tone
"He…he asked me Harry." Hermione took a step back towards the door, nervous for the first time in Harry's presence that she could remember. "Are you okay?" she queried anxiously
"Why didn't you go with one of us? Ron or me? We asked." He said angrily
"You asked me as a bloody last resort!" Hermione snapped "Besides, Victor asked me first!" she continued on, her ire rising with each passing second "And I don't see why it's any of your business who I go to dances with!"
Harry took another angry step forward "I don't want you seeing him!" he scowled
"You can't stop me! If I want to see Victor I will!" Hermione exclaimed indignantly
Harry closed the distance between them with confident strides. His hand rose, and then connected with Hermione's cheek, bringing tears to her eyes. She brought her hand up to her stinging cheek, a shocked, reflexive movement. But his hand wrapped around her upper arm, jerking her hand from her face and squeezing her arm painfully "You will not see him anymore, do you understand?" he demanded furiously
"Stop Harry! Let me go! You're hurting me!" Hermione whimpered, her cheek smarting
"Promise me you won't see him anymore! Promise me!" he gave Hermione a rough shake, his startling green eyes intent on her face.
"Okay! I promise!" Hermione yelped as his hand gave another squeeze, sending pain radiating up her arm.
Harry released her suddenly and took a step back, his face white his eyes fixated on her face and her red cheek, his eyes eloquent with disbelief
"Oh my god! Hermione! I'm so sorry! I…I don't know what came over me! I saw you with him and I just got so jealous, and the next thing I know, I hit you! Oh I'm so sorry!" His expressive green eyes welled up with tears and he took another step away from her
Hermione stared at him, her pink lips parted as she struggled to make sense of his actions. He had hit her, and now he was saying it was out of…jealousy? Over her and Victor, the vain part of her gave a please purr at the though.
"Jealous?" Hermione asked finally her golden eyes on Harry's face
Harry flushed, his eyes downcast "I…I had wanted to ask you to the dance" he said eventually "but I just couldn't get up the nerve." He looked up again and met her eyes "I really like you Hermione…but I'll understand if you don't want to…I mean…after what I did…how could I expect you to…" his voice trailed off and he bowed his head again
Hermione took a step toward him and placed a tentative hand on his arm. Yes he had struck her, but he was her friend, and he was upset. Besides, the pain in her cheek was already fading. Harry looked at her hand where it rested on his arms, and then met her eyes his face hopeful.
"It's okay Harry." She said softly, and gave a small smile
Harry returned her smile, his face coming alive. He enveloped her in a warm hug, his cheek resting on top of her head "Thank you Hermione." He whispered into her hair "I'll never do it again." His lips curved and his eyes flashed triumphantly
Hermione patted his back awkwardly and tried to relax into the embrace, but somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that this was wrong. That jealousy, no matter how over powering was not an excuse. But she was weak, and part of her basked in the fact that Harry fancied her, that he had wanted to go to the ball with her, so she let him get away with it.
Hermione shook herself out of her reverie. Sitting up she wrapped her arms around herself and began to rock. Watching the argument had dredged up all these old feelings. She could sympathize with Draco, she knew exactly how he felt. Except he hadn't backed down, he hadn't given in to his father's demands where she had given into Harry's. She shook her head. Now wasn't the time to self analyze. She should sleep. She slid under the covers and waited for sleep to come.
XOXOXOXOXO
It seemed only moments had passed before a loud banging wrenched her from the uneasy sleep she had finally fallen into. Groaning, she sat up and padded sleepily across the room to the door. Wrenching it open she peered blurrily at her tormentor.
"You look like shit Granger." Draco said evenly and stepped into her room without waiting for an invitation.
"Well come right on in!" Hermione mumbled crossly and slammed the door closed after him.
Draco strode across her room and plunked himself down on the foot of her recently vacated bed. Blinking sleepily Hermione asked grumpily "Is there something I can help you with?"
"No. But you need to get ready. We have to have breakfast, and your things have arrived and need to be moved up to your room."
Without another word Hermione shuffled across the room to the dresser next to her bed which contained an array of lent clothes, pulling things out at random she closed the drawer a savage bang and moved to the bathroom. Slamming the door she turned on the sink faucet and got a good look at herself. She silently agreed with Draco, she really did look like shit. Her normally fuzzy hair surrounded her head like a golden brown halo, sticking up at odd angles and mussed from sleep. Her face was pale and she had purple shadows under her unfocused eyes spoke of her sleepless night.
Groaning she cupped water in her hands and splashed it over her face, the sparkling rivulets running down her face and beads of water caught on her long lashes and weighted them down before they were blinked away. Hermione chose a brush from the neat array on the counter and ran it savagely through her hair, the only way to deal with the knots. Ripping and swearing she fought her hair into submission, and when she was finished it crackled out around her head from the friction of the brush as if it were alive. Wetting the brush she ran it through her hair to tame the unruly mass and then she plaited it into a thick braid that hung heavily down her back where it would, hopefully, stay out of her way.
Pulling the airy nightgown off she threw it into the corner, she didn't look in the mirror for she knew what she would see; prominent rib bones and pelvic bones that stood out against her nearly translucent skin. Sighing she surveyed the clothes she had brought into the bathroom with her; soft rose-cream blouse with delicate lace edging along the square cut neck line and cuffs, with large buttons running down the front, and a pair of faded blue jeans, a camisole and knickers. Pulling on the undergarments she paused for a moment to put on the blouse, shrugging it on she fastened the buttons with deft movements, and then pulled on the soft jeans and buttoned them low on her slim hips.
She studied herself in the mirror; the blouse was very becoming she decided, the rosy cream color accenting, and not offsetting her milky skin, and the soft lines of the fabric detracting from her sharp collar bones and making the most of what little bust she had. It was also very comfortable; the smooth material was cool against her sleep flushed skin and the silky texture had a mellowing effect on her frazzled nerves. The outfit would have been better all in all if she had filled out the jeans a bit more. Sighing she gave one final study and then left the bathroom, not bothering with cosmetics.
"Well come on then, lets go." She snapped at Draco who was lounging indolently on her bed, staring up at the canopy. He sat up quickly and was off the bed and at her side in moments.
"Come on then Granger, we haven't got all bloody day!" he grabbed her arm and steered her out the door and down the hall.
Smothering a sound of indignation she turned her head and studied him, he wasn't acting any different from yesterday, and in fact she would have thought she had dreamed last night except for the shadow of a bruise on his cheek
"How'd you do that?" Hermione questioned nodding at it
Draco looked at her sharply, his face considering "Lucius." He said finally. Why not be honest with her? She knew what kind of person Lucius was.
"I'm sorry." She said quietly, and she was
Draco smirked at her, not showing that he was caught off guard by her sincerity "It's nothing." He stated
"I'm still sorry." She smiled, her eyes sad, and her words speaking volumes. She understood; she knew what if felt like to be forced to do something you didn't want to, she knew what it meant to be helpless and have no control over your own destiny.
Draco's smirk faded, he knew what she was telling him. She had been through this before, and she knew exactly what he was feeling. He acknowledged this with a slight incline of his head and then his mask was back, patented Malfoy sneer and all.
"Come on then Granger, move your arse." He growled and propelled her down the hall.
Hermione and Draco both fought back smiles; they both knew they had found a like soul. The two enemies had reached an agreement, and the wheels of fate were set into motion.
AN:: A curse on me and my house for not updating sooner! ::dodges tomato:: I'll understand if you never give me candy again! (Although I did give you a nice long chapter! 31 pages in word!) It's been a pretty hectic month and as you can probably tell from the Disclaimer…my brain is a tad bit frazzled. Thanks to DarkAngelB my darling beta for looking for those damn commas I always miss. And never fear, you shall never have to wait a ::looks at calendar:: …month ::gulps:: to get an update again ::runs from angry mob::
Draco: ::throws tomato and hits author in the back of her head, sending her sprawling.:: HA! Got her!
Hermione: How matuuuuuure ::rolls eyes::
Draco: Want one? ::holds out tomato::
Hermione: Oh yes please! ::takes tomato and throws it, hitting the author who had just stood up:: You know these are pretty heavy tomatoes!
Draco: Oh, they're not tomatoes, they're spray painted rocks ::hefts another red rock and throws it, nailing the author in the kidneys::
Hermione:: Clever ::hits author in the shoulder::
OA: ::slightly concussed:: hey! Please stop! This hurts! ::is it with another rock:: …a lot!
Hermione: Okay fine we'll stop
Draco: We will?
Hermione: Yes ::picks up pitch fork::
Draco: oooh good idea! An angry mob! ::picks up torch::
OA: ::runs screaming::
Reviewers: I was OVERWHELMED by the amount of reviews I got! A grand whopping total of…FOUR! ::the band starts playing and the crowd waves little flags:: To my reviewers…you get ALLL the candy and cookies you can eat. You other people…shame…shame on you, my four reviewers are going to get fat and it's all your fault.
BrandyBuckBeak: No, centaurs aren't always right, and I hope they're wrong this time to! (Just to let you in on a little secret between us authors ::looks around for eavesdroppers, in a whisper:: the main character never dies! Some supporting characters do, but our hero and heroine…never!)
Haystack8190: oh my most faithful reviewer! I heart you!
DarkAngelB: Sally, you should not be failing your native tongue! Shame, get good grades and get out of that house! Thanks for reviewing dahling! I love you!
girl88: I updated! I'll be better about it to! At least twice a month I promise!
Please don't be greedy! Spread the love around, REVIEW!