Full Summary:
"I hate and I love. Why I do this, perhaps you ask.
I know not, but I feel it happening and I am tortured" - Catullus
In the wizarding world of the 15th century, Lord Draco Malfoy, pureblood and powerful, falls in love with a muggleborn servant girl named Hermione. He is married. She is promised to another. He is a Lord and she a lowly mudblood. But he wants her more than anything and he has never taken "No" for an answer. As his love turns to jealousy and his jealousy to possessiveness, he commits an unspeakable act against her. An act that can never be undone.
Author's Note:
Hello!
Welcome to Odi et Amo (= I hate and I love). I have to warn you from the start that this story will not be a happy one. Draco is dark and he does something very terrible to Hermione. Unfortunately, it won't have a happy ending and I feel like you must know that.
I hate writing angst and I detest non-happy endings so I have no idea why I wrote this. It was just that my muse was kicking me and I had to get it out of my system. You should know though that I'm a very loyal Dramione shipper and I love these two together with my whole heart. I'm so sorry for causing them pain with this story. The next one will be pure fluff.
A few things before you start. The story takes place in the 15th century BUT I'm in no way connoisseur of what was the situation in England during that time. I was kind of inspired by the witch hunting practices but that is that. The fact that the story takes place in the wizarding world, gave me a few liberties and created a dark wizarding world that considers Muggle borns as third-class citizens. Please ignore all canon knowledge and bear with me in this dark tale.
Trigger warnings: There is Non-Graphic Rape/ Non-Con, mentions of violence, references to torture and destriptions of blood and wounds. Nothing is explicitly described though.
Wilshire, South West England, 1498
There was a woman in his dreams that night.
She was sleeping peacefully beside him, her naked body pressing against his as she snuggled closer to him in her sleep. The riotous curls upon her head, silky and auburn and so very lovely, created a halo as they spread upon the pillow and he couldn't help that run his fingers in the locks and bring a couple of ringlets closer to his nose so that their essence filled his nostrils.
She was lovely. So very lovely and she was his.
His arms wrapped around her middle tightly and he brought his face to the hollow of her delicate neck. His hands touched her still flat stomach with adoration and care and he took immense pleasure to the fact that soon, she would be big with their child within her. Merlin! Their child.
The first rays of sunshine penetrated the closed heavy drapes of their chamber and he felt her body stir. With slow lazy movements, the woman accommodated her naked form to better fit against his and he hummed in approval. Soft addictive sighs left her lips as she felt his lingering touch in places that were private and reserved only for him.
Oh, Merlin, how he loved her. How he adored her.
She turned her body his direction and after a few slow tingling caresses on his chest and a sleepy satisfied smile, she opened her eyes. Two pools of liquid amber, misty from sleepiness yet full of life and love, stared back at him.
He was lost. Enamored. Besotted.
A delicate hand rose to cup his cheek and with the corner of his eye, he saw her wedding ring, a ring, a silver ring which carried an emerald green stone. He had designed it himself, just for her. His beloved, his everything.
"I love you; you know that?"
"No, my love. I don't." Her voice, teasing and hoarse from sleep, rang like sweet music from heaven in his ears. He couldn't resist it, resist her, any longer. With practiced ease, he leaned on her and connected her rosebud lips to his. They were soft like petals and sweet like nectar. A nectar reserved only for him.
He kissed her with passion, pouring all his love for her in one single touch of lips and tongues. Her hands found their way to his hair and she brought him closer to her by tugging at his white blond tresses. They melted against each other.
When their kiss broke, she was underneath him and so painfully close to him. Her curls where a messy halo but framed her beautiful face so elegantly. Her eyes were clouded with desire and love. He smiled down at her.
"You doubt me still, my sweetling?"
"I have no reason to trust you my love, for you have only ever caused me pain."
"What say you, my wife? Whenever did I cause you harm." His fingers played with the mahogany curls and his smile didn't falter one bit. She was only pestering him, he knew.
"I am not your wife, my love and you are not my husband." Fingers stilled and smile wavered. Her curls were no longer vibrant and silky but dry and tangled.
"What nonsense are you speaking my dear? We love each other. We are together. I love you." For some reason it was difficult to breathe.
"Then why did you destroy my life? Why did you kill me? Why did you torture me?" The honeyed figure became grey and pale beneath him. "Why did you hurt me? Why did you kill me?" The eyes became void and empty, their amber color gone and, in its place, dark orbs in bloodshot white.
"I never did that my love. Never. I never hurt you." He tried to caress her face and her small frame but she was cold under his touch, unresponsive. "I could never hurt you. I love you. I love you. I love you." Every declaration of love was followed by a kiss on lips purple and lifeless.
"I hate you for what you did to me. What you put me through. I hate you in live, I will hate you in my final moments and I will hate you in death."
"No! No!" He frantically stood up and tried to carry her small frame with him. To bring the woman he loved back.
But as he tried to untangle them from their dark green sheets, the smell of fire filled his nostrils. And a blade found itself in his heart.
He woke up. He was alone. There was no fire anywhere. There was no warm body in his arms. There was no blade in his heart. Or was there?
He decided to go for an early ride, to clear his head and to think. Think about what or whom he knew not. Thinking was painful. Contemplating the past was impossible and challenging his inner thoughts was dangerous. He was on a tightrope, on a prison of his own making.
Those dreams were the bane of his pitiful existence for the past months. They were a torture, worse than death. First, they were happy and light and perfect but then they became ominous and dark. The only way to calm his racing mind was to take his horse for a ride.
So, he stood up from his cold bed, got dressed and soon, he was galloping atop the low hills of his land.
The proud horse rose on its two back feet, following the orders of its master as he put it to an abrupt stop. It received the rewarding an affectionate caress on its rich brown mane and with a quiet snigger it came to a stop so as to allow the man to climb down.
The horse had followed this specific path numerous times in the past few months so it followed its usual routine and stooped its head so as to spy out the long grass that had grown very bushing at this spot of the mountain. The horse indulged itself in eating the grass around it happily.
The man freed it from its reins and made a few steps towards the edge of the hill to admire the view, or to think. The landscape in front of him softened for a while his thudding heart but it was not enough to calm the storm brewing in his heart.
The vast landscapes of Wiltshire spread before his eyes, while the Towers of Malfoy Manor, the place he had grown up, looked like tiny grey stones in the distance of the endless green fields that surrounded it. Other places in England were similarly beautiful, his heart though, belonged to this land- his homeland.
His eyes narrowed. Seeing the exact same view every day, at the same hour for the past months, he knew in details how the first morning hours found the tenants of the small villages surrounding his land. Men would soon start working at the fields and women would take care of their children and go to the market.
A vivid image of normalcy and peace; that was what it felt like living in Wiltshire.
His gaze traveled to the north, where the magnificent towers of his manor stood. Build only a few years ago as the land had been gifted to his family, the imposing Manor hadn't lost one speck of its glamor. It served its purpose of being imposing and intimidating just fine.
It was a symbol of power; the centre of authority.
His skin shivered underneath his clothes. His fists clenched so tightly that he felt his blood boiling. The silver pin in the shape of a snake that was holding his cloak together, suddenly felt so heavy and, irritated, he unbuttoned it to get rid of the offending garment.
The cold summer breeze that immediately breached his silk white shirt made him feel a bit better. The comfort was short lived though.
In a matter of seconds his train of thought allowed his gaze to travel to a place he had sworn never to think about and his piercing gaze focused on the small stony dwelling beside the main tower of the place she was held.
The sharp breath he took in order to recuperate, burnt his lungs. His knees started trembling in their poor effort to keep his body standing. Maybe he still had a chance, he thought, feeling the wetness in his eyes getting thicker and thicker. Maybe he could persuade her to admit her wrongs in front of her interrogators and save her from the worst of punishments: burning at the stake in less than two days in the central square.
"Hermione..." he mumbled in an almost pleading tone as if that mere word was enough for fate to take a different turn and delete recent history.
The horse beside him, feeling its master's inner quarrel, neighed annoyed.
"If only you had chosen me," he said "You could have had it all. I would have made you a queen. Five servants would prepare your bath every day and you would sleep in the softest mattress." He sighed, knowing even now that those were just lies he told himself.
He would have never been able to offer her that beautiful life he had so wanted. He would have never been able to make her the lady of his Manor and the queen of his heart. It had been impossible then and it was even less possible now. Those were just lies he fed himself to swallow his ego at her rejection and to avoid a confrontation with his terrible actions
"No!" he exclaimed firmly, putting in the back of his mind all thoughts of remorse. " You shouldn't have denied me, " he concluded, justifying as always, his final decision to have her arrested for practice of magic illegal for muggleborns and use of the Dark arts.
He didn't want to remember the night of her arrest in front of the eyes of her fiancé and his own eyes. He didn't want to think of her screams when they dragged her roughly from her small, poor home to lead her to the place of her torment. He didn't want to bring into his mind all the abominable consequences of his actions, but he did.
She was there, every moment and every minute for every single day since that cursed night. She was torturing his existence in a way that was far worse of the manner in which her sweet flesh was tortured daily.
He dismissed those thoughts with a violent shake of his shoulders and he jumped on his horse. He pulled the reins and the horse turned around to go down the small hill. He didn't lead the horse to his Manor but towards the Tower that had become her personal hell.
Maybe he could still save her from her fate.
Very soon he was standing right in front of the metal gates of the tower. The guards opened the gates immediately at his sight. They didn't speak a word to him, afraid of his status and respecting the protocol. They only stood tall, following orders. The man brought his horse to a stop when he saw one of the tower keepers approaching him.
"Good morning Your Grace! How can I be of service to you?"
"Tell to Theodore Nott that Lord Draco Malfoy wishes to see the muggleborn prisoner named Hermione immediately," he ordered, eyes cold as steel. And when he saw the small traits of sweat running down the interlocutor 's forehead, his expression became hard. "Now!" he demanded quickly, his voice firm and his tone imposing.
"The woman is in no position to see anyone..." trailer off the man, obviously shaken by the dangerous looks his Lord was sending his way.
"She will see me."
"As you wish my Lord."
The Lord tied his horse in a pole nervously and passed by the pale man, understanding that the official didn't want to follow his order but had to do so anyway.
The right thing to do would be to announce his arrival at the Tower but time was far more precious now. He had to speak with her as quickly as possible. He had to persuade Hermione to cooperate with the Auror Force and be saved from her horrid fate.
"My lord!" he heard a voice from behind him but he didn't stop.
The sound of his boots echoed in the stony cold floor as he went inside the tower and he casted a Lumos with his wand to see where he was going.
He heard more footsteps from the other side of the dark corridor and he hurried to greet their owner. Whoever he was, he had to listen to him. Time was running against her, against them. The smell of death already filled his nostrils. Maybe he could erase the accusing words he had first said. Maybe it wouldn't be too late and he would fix it. Fix her. Help her.
Hermione
Hermione
Hermione
"Draco!" The hoarse familiar voice brought him to a stop. Very few people were allowed to call him with his name and not his title, including...
"Theodore."
"If you are here to see the woman, I'm sorry my friend but you'll be disappointed. She cannot see you. She does not have the power to speak to anyone."
"I have to see her Theodore." He grasped the man by the collar, ignoring the proper etiquette his position required. "I need to speak with her!" He was sweating and panting heavily.
"I'm afraid you won't accomplice much. It's too late."
"What did you do to her?" he yelled. "What in Merlin's name did you do to her?" The other man lowered the Lord's trembling palms from his collar and straighten his head. A far too self-satisfied smirk appeared on his thin lips.
"Everything you knew was going to happen to her the moment you pointed her with your finger and accused her of casting the Imperious Curse on you. Everything you knew was going to befall her the moment you pointed her as a dark sorceress. You must have been right, my friend. Only those vile creatures show so much durability and valence in the martyrdom of the flesh. She was laughing!" he informed him while playing with the golden ring in his middle finger, decorated with valuable stones and his family emblem. "She was laughing even during the cruciatus curse."
"Oh Merlin!" the Lord exclaimed stunned. "You promised me that she..."
Maybe he would have completed his sentence if a woman's voice hadn't reached his ears. And then metal being hit with metal and the sound echoing for several seconds in the hollow bowels of the prison.
He knew perfectly well what was that sound. The woman was hitting the metallic bars of her cage with the also metallic manacles on her wrists. The frantic clinking was followed by yells of his name and curses.
And the horrid words that roughly left her mouth were always accompanied his name.
Draco
Draco
Draco
He shivered.
"Unbelievable valence!" commented Theodore, again with his trademark dark smirk. The man had become an inquisitor for the Auror Force just a few months ago and really enjoyed his job- that is, torturing.
"Let me see her," ordered Draco with as much confidence as he could master.
"No objection my lord, " mocked Theodore. "You came here looking sick and I'm sure you'll leave looking like a dead man," he taunted in a sickly pitch. "Amicus!" he called and straighten his body. A chubby guard with an unreadable expression came immediately, ready to follow Theodore 's orders.
"Accompany Lord Malfoy to the dungeons and inform me when he leaves."
"Yes sir!"
It took them five whole minutes to go down the second basement where the few prisoners were held. Draco placed his hand on his nose to fight the disgusting smell; human impurities, rotten flesh and blood made his stomach clench. He composed himself though and tried to focus his dark gaze at the door of the small cell in front of him and not on the dried blood underneath his feet.
"I'll be upstairs if you need me my lord," the guard informed him and Draco nodded. He took a sharp breath and kicked a small rat that had come near his boots.
With another deep sigh, he took off his hat and tried to compose himself. Then he took a few steps forward.
And there she was, the woman he had loved, hurt and broke. The woman whose name was a prayer upon his lips and who he had destroyed so irreparably that he deserved to burn in hell forever.
Broken and bruised and yet so undeniably beautiful, Hermione was standing behind the metal bars of her prison with eyes that held only defiance and hate.
Notes: The story has 4 chapters in total and I will update once a week. It is also cross posted on Ao3