Hermione didn't know what she expected of the evening. She'd heard promises of blood, promises of pain. And it made her tremble.
Fear? Of course. That was half of the exhilaration. Worry? No, not really. She knew Blaise wouldn't dare harm his family's reputation by doing something stupid -- like killing DracoMalfoy's personal toy. That's what they whispered about, she knew. That's what the women asked about.
She stood, awkward and out of place in the room that he'd taken her to. She knew she should do something, anything. "I like your house." Wow, that sounded much more pathetic when out in the open than it had in her head. She cringed, watching him turn back to her, a small smile playing at his lips.
"Thank you. When I moved out of my parents home, well, I got involved." That smile again, the brown tousled hair falling over his eyes. "Sit, Hermione. We must drink, and talk first."
She obeyed with no resistance, taking the seat closest to her at the small squat table that was in the room. It was just as plush as the other rooms had been. This one was on the other wing of the house though, the one she hadn't explored. When he served her steaming tea, she smiled lightly in an ironic fashion. Who would've thought this is what she'd be doing? She hadn't even expected to survive the war, and here she was… drinking tea… as though the sun would rise tomorrow and Harry and Ron would ask her where she'd been for so many years. Sipping at it, she stared off. No. The sun would rise, but Harry and Ron were dead. And she knew that, she did. "What's in this?" Her voice seemed almost unattached to her body, as though she was standing by the wall, hearing herself speak.
"Some things for calming, some things to help the body control it's blood flow. It should make you feel more awake, as well. Nothing like a stimulant in the bad sense. Just a refresher." He smirked at her, pushing his hair back. "Don't look so shocked. I wouldn't want you bleeding out on my carpets, now would I? Blood is terribly hard to remove. And in such quantities…" He shook his head, clicking his tongue.
Part of Hermione was disgusted. The other though… merlin how she wanted him. She drank the tea quietly. It was a pleasant tasting drink, one that made her think of open fields and salty breezes. She closed her eyes for a moment before looking up to Blaise from under her eyelashes.
She wanted to ask him about what he was planning. But the other part of her wanted that adrenaline rush of surprise.
Blaise talked idly of things that didn't really matter, nor pertain to her, as she finished the second cup of tea. She knew he was acting. He was watching her very closely, even if his gaze drifted around the room lazily now and then. She knew better. He was like Draco -- like all Slytherins. Natural hunters, watching their prey carefully.
Finally, Blaise rose, holding his hand out to her. His eyes had that gleam in them. As he led her out her out the door and down the hallway, he talked about things that were more interesting, in Hermione's view. "I stayed with Michez's Temple for a summer… you pick up some interesting habits around them." He laughed lowly. "I used to be so afraid of blood, isn't that crazy? Then a woman, a beautiful woman, she showed me a cut once, cut her arm right then and there. The blood… it was grotesquely exquisite. Does that make sense?" He laughed again, in a more self-demeaning way.
Hermione knew exactly what he meant. How blood signified so much, and most of it wasn't good things. But no, when she saw blood… she stared. She took it in. She stored it away. Everything about it intrigued her. The thickness, the taste, the smell… the feel. It was simply fascinating for her, she wouldn't deny that.
He pulled her into a dark room. When he started lighting candles about the area, she let out a small, sharp breath of air. The light swept over the red room, the blood red room. The carpet was so soft, she could feel her feet sinking at least an inch into it. There was a large canopy bed on one wall, the rest of the areas covered by amusements. She touched fingertips gently to her lips, her eyes wide as she observed. The things in this room… she could only imagine what some of them were for. A shudder passed through her as she watched him turn to her. He'd been setting things out on the dresser close to the door. She hadn't seen what. Now though, now he was stalking her. His eyes glinted in the candle light, his body lithe and tense. The carpet softened any noise he might've made, but somehow, Hermione knew he wouldn't make any no matter what.
When he came up from behind her, she gasped openly. His arms were around her before she could even register what was happening. Strong, gentle arms. Arms that claimed and yearned for all at once. She was his, he knew it, but he still showed all that desire. Hermione started to grasp what it was like to be an owner of Michez's path. She was a part of Michez's path… but Blaise stalked beside it. He watched those on it, attacked, teased and taunted and pushed them over the edge.
Her clothes were coming off, Blaise nimble and beautiful in his grace. His teeth on her neck, teasing, toying. She closed her eyes, leaning into it, pliable as he took clothing off piece by piece… so slowly. She wanted to yell at him, tell him to hurry up and take her before she exploded. Instead, she stood, fists clenching into Blaise's pant legs as he pulled back away from her.
She turned from him, her eyes wide, begging. He knew what she wanted, and he wasn't about to give it to her. Clothing tossed aside, she felt vulnerable. But she knew that was the point. "Undress me, Hermione." His words were quiet, but that didn't matter. Whatever made men think they had to be loud to be in control was just plain stupid.
She did it slowly, just as slowly as he had to her. Why should she give any when he wouldn't? No, he could wait. But how she wanted him! She worshipped his body as she took off the clothing, gentle and precise. When she was done, she was on her knees before him, staring up at him with wide, pleading eyes.
She was his.
He didn't sleep with her that night. If only he'd been so nice. Instead, the teasing had gone on and on. She'd begged, she knew that. He'd used small, barely noticeable blades on her, tracing the nails they were attached to around and around, the skin peeling back to let the blood flow gently from the wounds.
She was his, all his.
She remembered the bed, being so close, so close to her own release. And then he'd stopped. Pain, pleasure, there was no difference for her that night. Blindfolds, she couldn't see half the time. But that was of no concern. All that mattered was him.
All his, only his.
Blood, so much blood. Her vision was painted red, and she knew it was all hers. What would've happened if he hadn't had her drink that tea? She didn't want to know.
Only his, all his.
Her throat was raw the next morning, she was raw. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe. Draco came to pick her up as he'd promised, the anger boiling in his eyes at the sight of her.
Only his…
And those eyes, Merlin, those eyes! How he'd looked at her, with a smug smile, and lust in those eyes. More, more. She licked her lips, trying to go back to him, but how Draco fought her! Blaise, Blaise, Blaise… yes… Blaise… Merlin, release me…
Draco was pacing again. He was only pacing. Blaise had stopped by to plan with him, to talk with him… and to check up on Hermione, of course. It'd been a day since her night with him, and Draco was still furious. "She can't talk, did you know? She can't hardly move without hitting something that hurts. She's always talking of burning, something's burning." Draco paused, looking at Blaise. Blaise was intently cleaning a fingernail. Draco slammed his hands onto the desk, raising his voice. "You insensitive prick, you almost killed her!" His face was flushed, his blood pumping fast. Oh, Granger…
Blaise looked up, all his joking gone for the moment. This was a serious moment, one that Draco was in need of badly. "She didn't do much talking, that night. Maybe it's become a habit." She had been begging most of the night, or answering politely. And screaming. None of those counted. He gave a slightly cruel smile as he watched Draco's anger rise. He knew what the burning was. The blades that he'd used, they were infamous for that. The felt like ice and flame, all at once. The sensation faded as the wounds healed, but she'd had them all over. Blaise had been thorough. He'd enjoyed it… he'd do it again, if given the chance. "She'll be fine, Draco. Don't worry."
Draco looked at him, completely exasperated as he started pacing again. "Go, Blaise. Go. Now."
Blaise raised from the chair coolly, looking over Draco with distaste. "I'll be back next Thursday." He left, not even slamming the door on his way out.
For some reason, that irritated Draco all the more. Couldn't he at least pretend to be angry? No. Always so cool, so calm. That bastard. Draco ground his teeth together. He knew the cost for his help was high, but this was just getting to be insane. He hated how he felt when he looked at her. Her eyes were so blank, staring back like a broken doll. Why? Why her? Why now? He was crying, again.
He didn't hear the door open, he didn't know she was even there until she was holding him, holding him around the shoulders as his sobs wracked his body. "I'm so sorry, Granger. I'm so sorry."
Hermione pulled the hair from his eyes, pushing it behind his ears. "It was worth it, it was. I wanted it, really, I did. And we need him. I'd do it ten times over, for freedom… for freedom for every other person. It was worth it, Draco. It needed to be done." She had never imagined herself as a bartering tool -- not pretty enough. But she had been, and she meant it when she'd said she'd do it over.
When he was finally done crying, he felt better. But he wasn't going to tell her that. Instead, he left abruptly to find some food, leaving her in the study, staring at him, her eyes showing the beginnings of the hurt from being blown off.
"Oh Malfoy, you're such a twit."
"Blaise, we can't do that. We'll get caught." Draco looked up from the layout of the castle, the bags under his eyes clashing horribly with his pale skin. "I don't look forward to being killed, honestly.'
Blaise threw up his hands, storming out of the room. "Fine! You think of something better, then. I'm getting a drink."
And who was in the kitchen other than our lovely Hermione? "Malfoy, stay out of that batter," she warned absently, her nose in a cookbook.
Coming up from behind her, Blaise slipped his arms around her, twisting her to face him before leaning up against her, staring at her. "I'm not Malfoy." His smile was enticing, and he knew it, of course.
Hermione struggled only briefly before he kissed her. Then she stopped, whimpering instead. She may've tried to block it from her mind's eye, but her body remembered, and craved it. His hips moved against her provocatively, his hand playing at her side.
"Your cake batter is getting my floor dirty." Draco's cold voice cut through the moment. Blaise pulled away from Hermione slowly, looking at Draco. He smiled, a cool, guilty-but-so-what smile.
Hermione looked flustered as she moved to clean up the mess on the floor. She'd been holding the whisk, and hadn't realized that it'd been dripping. She bit her lip. She also hadn't realized what exactly she'd been doing until Draco had brought it into light again.
It'd been a while since her encounter with Blaise, but she still woke in a sweat from it some nights. With him and Draco often plotting late into the night, Blaise was around. A lot. Too much. Enough to make her want to beg. Beg and beg and plead. But she didn't. She knew what Draco's feelings were on it all, and honestly, she didn't want Blaise for anything other than that deep physical craving.
"Dinner will be done soon." She turned back to her cutting board, cutting the vegetables with more force than needed. At least it made her feel better. A little bit, anyhow.
Draco stared at the ceiling, listening to Hermione getting into bed. The lights were off, but he knew her routine by heart now. She was so methodical. He loved to tease her about that. She was on her side, facing away from him. Her back, that's all he got. "Are you in love with Blaise?" Draco had been doing a lot of thinking lately. If this plan worked, where would that leave him and her? He would not let this kind of thing continue once Voldemort was out of the way. But that was the only thing that kept Hermione with him now. Because she had no place to go.
"No." Hermione was sure of that. She may lust after him, but that was simply it, in the end. Lust. She heard Draco sigh, heard him roll over towards him. Felt him move closer to him.
"Granger… would you… would you cuddle with me, tonight?" He regretted it the instant he said it. She didn't answer for a while, and he moved away, his body tense. What a stupid question. Of course she was lying about Blaise. She just didn't want him to hurt her, that was all.
Then she was next to him, warm and soft, her head butting against his arm, trying to get into his embrace. He was getting soft, he thought, trying not to cry. Part of him was so scared, so scared that he'd die alone, and never have known anything about life at all. Her arm was across his chest, her legs twining with his. For this, for this moment, he would've sworn his life to her.
He just didn't accept that he already had.
A/N: Hope you all like it. It's not really so plot-tastic, but it's a fun chappie. Was interesting to write. The story is complete, my friends. It's only 8 chapters long. Hopefully I'll have them edited and up soon. Enjoy. And thanks for all the reviews!