Warning: Attempted assault & violence
He's out his head, I'm out my mind
We got that love; the crazy kind
I am his, and he is mine
In the end, it's him and I
-Him & I, G-Eazy ft Halsey
"Hermione, it wasn't me," he frantically replied, finally getting his mind right as he took note of the words she threw at him.
"Oh, please! You bragged about how much you wanted to kill him! You bragged about how long you had been waiting for the opportunity. Don't lie to me," she screamed.
"I'm not lying! Hermione, you have to believe me! I didn't do this," he yelled back.
She slapped him again, stumbling away from him, hand covering her mouth.
"Hermione," he pleaded, stepping towards her.
"You just stay away from me! I can't even look at you," she gasped out, pointing her finger at him.
"Hermione, please-."
"Stay away from me!"
She backed up, turning away from him before running out of the door.
Hermione stared in confusion as he slowed the car down to a stop, looking around with furrowed eyebrows.
"What…what are we doing here?" she hesitantly asked.
Draco did not reply as he turned the vehicle off, reaching down and straightening up to hand her a single white rose. Her confusion grew as she took it, and when he opened the door and got out, she had no choice but to follow. The slight breeze whipped her hair around her face, and Hermione shuddered, thankful that she'd brought her coat. As they met at the front of the car, an unfamiliar feeling began to settle over her. Memories of the last time she'd been at a cemetery plagued her thoughts.
It was only about three months ago when they'd buried Ronald. Hermione had never been able to put into words how watching someone she'd grown up with, someone she'd loved, being lowered into the ground had made her feel. If Hermione closed her eyes, she could hear the Weasley family's anguished cries, and she could see the distraught look on Harry's face as he fought to come to terms with losing his best friend. Dean, Seamus, Neville, all of their classmates were there.
Some they'd stayed in contact with over the past few years, and some were faces she hadn't seen since graduation. Every single one of them had been a mess, crying over the unexpected loss of someone they'd known, or perhaps crying over the sudden confrontation with their own mortality, seeing as Ron was the first of the bunch to go. Hermione wasn't sure how she'd been able to stay composed, the sorrow and crippling guilt almost too much for her to handle.
It was her fault.
At least, that was how it felt.
Arguably, she knew that Ron could be blamed for his own demise. After all, it was his own decisions that put him on Riddle's radar to begin with. Still, as much as he had hurt Hermione, Ron didn't deserve to die, and she could have done a lot of things differently. It would have cost her in the end, but maybe Ron would still be alive.
She tightened her grip on Draco's hand as he weaved through the headstones, careful not to step on, or over, any graves.
"Draco, what are we doing here?"
Again, he didn't answer, and Hermione was about to question him again when he stopped in front of a fairly new headstone. It was a shiny, black granite, and the elaborateness of it told Hermione that their family had money. Her eyes focused in on the name, and she stopped breathing, lips parting as she took a step forward.
Allison Reed.
Daughter.
Sister.
Friend.
Love of my life.
Hermione released a shuddering breath as she knelt before it, face warming up as she felt tears spring to her eyes. She read the words over and over again as if trying to make sense of them. Allison's violent and unnecessary death was something that would forever be stained onto Hermione's heart, reminding her that it was her own foolishness that led to the demise of an innocent girl. So she had a sibling…and someone who loved her, she thought, brushing her trembling fingers over the smooth granite. She caught a glimpse of her birth date, and Hermione hung her head. She inhaled, swallowing her cry before looking up at Draco.
"Twenty-four. Twenty-four years… That's all she got?" she asked with a frown.
Draco said nothing, and Hermione wiped her face. She herself was only twenty-one, and Hermione couldn't wrap her head around the thought of dying in just three years. It seemed preposterous…unfair. She looked at Allison's grave again before placing the rose in front of it, hair flying around her face.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
Hermione had never been brought up to be extremely religious, but she hoped that in some way, the green-eyed girl heard her. She stood, welcoming the familiar feeling of Draco's arms circling around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder.
"He'll get what's coming to him, Hermione. Men like him always do," he murmured, breath fanning against her cheek.
"He has a job for me, tomorrow… Teddy said that he'll be accompanying me."
Draco stiffened at the mention of her best friend. Well…she wasn't exactly sure what they were at the moment. She'd blown up at him the day she'd been informed of Ron's death, accusing Teddy of murdering him. He'd insisted that he didn't, and she didn't believe him, at least, not at first. It was with great persistence that he'd finally worn her down into speaking to him, and went on a huge tirade of how he didn't kill Ron. She had to admit that his arguments made sense. After all, she did have to agree that Teddy would have gladly owned up to it if he had. He had no reason to lie.
She had eventually come around, but they both knew that a part of her was still skeptical, and that put a strain on their friendship. She knew that it was stupid, but if Teddy didn't do it, she had a feeling that he at least knew who did.
"Thank you," she said as he walked back to the car.
"It wasn't your fault, Hermione," he said, taking her face into his hands.
She sighed.
"It wasn't. You did what you did all the while fully accepting the consequences that may befall you. You were more than willing to take the blow. How were you ever to anticipate that he would take it out on some innocent stranger? Some innocent girl who had nothing to do with any of this? That's on him. He made that choice…"
Hermione scoffed, throat becoming incredibly thick.
"It was all for nothing, anyway. She died, and for what? For Ron to end up right there with her in less than four months?"
She hung her head, the tears falling.
"Ginny and Harry are so…" she shook her head. "She's postponed the wedding, and with the way things are, I doubt she'll be walking down the aisle anytime soon. Both of them are still so distraught. Harry doesn't even want to think about finding a new best man. Mrs. Weasley hasn't talked to me in months… Ginny says that every time I'm brought up, she thinks about her son and starts crying all over again."
Draco rubbed her shoulders, pressing his lips to her forehead.
"You still have me, and you'll always have me," he whispered.
Hermione rested her hands on his wrists, closing her eyes, debating with herself if that was a good thing.
"I'm not so sure about this," she uneasily said.
Blaise chuckled, and Draco stepped up behind her, working his fingers into her shoulders.
"Relax. Blaise will go easy on you…right?"
Blaise held up his hands, a display of innocence as he grinned. Hermione suddenly licked her lips, exhaling.
"No. No, don't go easy on me…"
"Hermione," Draco admonished.
She looked over her shoulder at him, reaching up to smooth out the crease that had formed in between his eyebrows.
"Flint wouldn't go easy on me. Neither would Boot, and Tom Riddle definitely will not go easy on me. I don't like this, but having Blaise hold back would be doing me a disservice," she continued.
Draco reluctantly agreed, backing up to lean against the glass door, eyes trained on the two of them. It was getting pretty late, and the sun would be setting soon. She took a deep breath, taking a step forward.
"Ready?"
Hermione nodded, fists clenched just in time to block a punch thrown her way. Her small success took her by surprise, so much so that she left her stomach completely exposed. She keeled over, insides churning as she fought not to hurl.
"Bloody hell, Hermione, I was sure you'd block that," Blaise said.
She struck her hand out behind her, waving Draco away as she heard his approaching footsteps. It took about a minute for her gut to settle, and she slowly straightened up.
"I got too excited, and I wasn't paying attention. Again," she shakily said.
Despite the conviction in her voice, Blaise still glanced over her shoulder, looking to Draco for approval. Apparently, he got it, because they were back at it again. Hermione was glad to say that she at least lasted an hour. Everything that Draco had been teaching her for the past three months were being put to good use. Granted, she was nowhere near ready to take on someone like Blaise in a real fight, but she was proud that she held her own.
She landed on her side rather harshly, head knocking against the ground when Draco finally stepped in, calling it. She winced, hissing as he helped her up, face pinched in concern.
"I'm alright," she gasped.
His lips were pursed, and she could see his thoughts clear as day on his face.
"This is the only way I'll learn, Draco. You really want me to try and take on Riddle with nothing but a gun and dumb luck?"
"Not bad," Blaise commented. "A few more months of some rigorous training, and I'd say you'd be good to go."
She threw him a tentative smile, flinching as Draco began to lead her back into the house.
"Yeah, I'll keep that in mind," Draco dryly replied.
She soon found herself whisked up into his arms, Draco taking the stairs two at a time. He made his way into his spacious room and, Hermione wasn't sure if she'd ever get used to the size of his house.
"Mind if I join you for a bath?" he murmured into her hair.
It was only about fifteen minutes later when Hermione was submerged in the relaxing bathwater from the neck down. Draco was behind her, fingers rubbing soothing circles into her skin. The aroma that filled the bathroom reminded Hermione of a tropical paradise, and she closed her eyes, letting her head fall back.
"You know that there was no need to ask to join me… It is your house, after all," she said.
"It doesn't feel that way most nights. I spend more time at the loft than I do here…"
Hermione had to admit that she rather enjoyed the loft too. The studio apartment sized room that was located above where Draco held all of his parties was something that was more in her comfort zone. It was modern and even had a cozy feel to it. Besides, the huge window that covered the entire wall opposite of the bed always seemed to calm her. It didn't matter if it was day time, and she was staring at the bright sky, or if it was midnight, and she was gazing at the illuminating moon. She could lie in that bed and gaze out of the window for hours.
Draco's house made her nervous, too afraid that she was going to ruin something. It was too bright and far too pristine. She had a sneaking suspicion that the decorating was not his doing.
"…besides, you should know by now that what's mine is practically yours," he added, wrapping his arms around her.
"Slow down, Mr. Malfoy… I'm not trying to change my last name anytime soon," she joked.
Draco didn't laugh, and she glanced up at him with a frown. His eyebrows were furrowed, lips turned down as he glared into the water.
"Marrying you into this life is just about the worst thing that I could ever do," he murmured.
Hermione's frown deepened, and she pulled away in order to fully face him, fingers reaching out to brush along his neck.
"…why?"
He was staring past her, something unfamiliar in his eyes.
"Being a Malfoy comes with great power and prestige, but…" his eyes rested on her. "It is one of the most dangerous names that you could ever have."
Hermione nervously chuckled.
"Well, it's a good thing that I was joking…"
Again, Draco didn't laugh, gazing at her with an unreadable expression. She suddenly sat up further, water grazing the top of her chest now, hands resting on his neck.
"Tell me something…about it, I mean," she quietly said.
Draco made a quiet scoffing sound.
"…like what?"
"Tell me about your first kill," she responded, rather hesitantly.
Draco raised his eyebrows, releasing a breath and leaning back. She wasn't sure why she asked for that of all things. She supposed that she wanted to know the worst things about him, wanted to truly know just who she was with.
"My first kill…," he mused.
His hand came up to play with her damp curls, eyes suddenly far away.
"I was fifteen-."
Hermione gasped, eyes wide as she regarded him in shock.
"That's so young," she whispered, heart clenching.
Draco threw her a rueful smile, hands coming up to rest on her cheeks, his thumbs smearing water along her skin.
"It was exactly one hour until my sixteenth birthday. It was…an initiation of sorts. Yes, I was born into this life, this legacy, but despite the fact that I was clearly next in line to take over after my father, I still had to prove myself. I was very eager to prove myself. I'd grown up in this life, yes, but until that day…I had never quite truly known what that meant. His name was Stefan. Stefan Harrington…
He worked for my father, and it had not been long discovered that not only was he stealing from us, but he was also slipping information to a smaller, lesser known family from Bulgaria, the Krums. It was a rather serious offense, so of course, they wanted to make an example out of him. It being my first task only added to the elaborateness of it all."
Despite the dread that was building in the pit of her gut, Hermione was transfixed, hooked on his every word.
"What did you do?"
"I burned his fingerprints off, and then I ripped out his teeth," Hermione sharply inhaled. "When that was done, we tied him up, and I was ordered to set him on fire."
Hermione pulled away, staring at him with wide eyes. Well, she was the one who'd asked…and he'd answered.
"Do you think differently of me now?" he asked, a small smirk lingering on his lips, something unfamiliar dancing in his eyes.
"I…I don't know."
And that was the truth. She didn't know. She was horrified, yes, but she suspected that her brain was still processing what he'd told her. Besides, she knew what kind of business he ran, and had long guessed at some of the things he'd probably done. Still, she couldn't imagine ever doing anything like that, at any age, let alone fifteen.
"I'm sorry that you had to do that," she finally said.
Draco shrugged, visibly unbothered by the whole ordeal.
"It was five years ago. I can assure you, every other murder I've committed wasn't nearly as gruesome," he joked.
Hermione did not laugh, and that only made him laugh more.
"Anything else you want to ask me?" he finally questioned after settling down.
Hermione pursed her lips, fingers tapping along where they rested on his shoulders.
"What would you do if I ever…slept with someone else?"
She wasn't sure why she'd asked that question. Maybe it had something to do with her own thoughts, her own insecurities. While Draco had made it abundantly clear that he was attached to her and completely enamored with her, it was still something she couldn't quite wrap her head around. With…Ron, she had done everything right, and that still wasn't enough. It had been years, and Ron was gone, but the doubts that his betrayal had erected were still there, always lingering below the surface.
Draco grinned, completely oblivious to her inner monologue as his hands danced along her naked flesh before resting on her hips.
"I would kill them," he jested.
Hermione scoffed, taken aback by the immediate response. A light, disbelieving laugh escaped her lips.
"Really…"
He hummed in confirmation, fingers digging into her skin. She chuckled when he leaned in, teeth nipping at the tender expanse of her neck.
"That's a bit extreme, don't you think?"
"On the contrary. What better way to take out the competition than by simply…burying them?"
Hermione gasped when he sank his teeth into her skin, tongue immediately darting out to soothe the slight flare of pain.
"Besides…," he huskily continued "…that isn't something I'm worried about. I think we both know that I'm the only one that could make you feel like this."
Her fingers clutched at his hair, her other hand gripping his shoulder as he lifted his hips, rubbing his hardened member against her sensitive flesh.
"D-don't be so sure of yourself," she breathed.
A low inhumane sound escaped from the depths of his chest, traveling up his throat. It almost sounded like a growl. His hand tangled in her hair, yanking her head back and forcing her back to arch up towards him.
"Shall I remind you why I'm so sure? I do recall fucking you to sleep once," he hissed, lips latching onto one of her breasts.
Hermione gasped, chest heaving, when he lowered her trembling frame onto him, giving her no time at all to think about it. His lips left marks along her neck before trailing up to her jaw, nipping and sucking before finally capturing her lips. Hermione dug her nails into his shoulder and back as he moved within her, pulling soft moans from her mouth.
"I wonder how many times I can make you cum tonight," he murmured into her lips.
The only response he got from her was a shuddering breath as he backed her against the other side of the huge bath. He brought her bottom lip in between his teeth, coaxing a groan out of her. One of his hands left her waist, reaching up to grip her wrist, pinning it to the side of the tub.
"I'm already three for three. I think I can beat that," he whispered into her ear.
Hermione wholeheartedly agreed, already feeling her legs beginning to shake.
She watched as Teddy huffed, a few feet away with his phone pressed to his ear. He closed his eyes, slight annoyance dancing across his features before nodding, hand rested on his hip. He cursed as soon as he hung up the phone, making his way back over to them.
"There's something else that I need to take care of," he began, handing the money to Flint.
"Am I-?"
"No. I'll be going alone. Marcus will take you back," he said with a sigh.
Hermione briefly glanced at the other dark haired man before gripping Teddy's arm, walking a few feet away.
"Can't I just go with you? I don't…," Hermione trailed off recalling the incident with Flint and Malfoy months ago.
.
.
.
Flint spread his arms out as he leaned back, a sleazy grin on his lips.
"Aw, come on, Malfoy. Afraid you'll lose for once?"
"She's not up for grabs. This is nonnegotiable," Draco spat.
Flint raised his eyebrows in surprise, looking around at the other occupants with a chuckle.
"Well I'll be… You've bet many a ladies before, and you've never lost, might I add. What's so special about this one?"
Draco suddenly stood, clearly having enough of this conversation as he grabbed her hand and pulled her up with him.
"She must be great in bed, a real keeper. Don't worry, I'll find out for myself soon enough…"
Draco's nostrils flared, spinning around as he reached into the inside of his suit jacket, eyes flashing. Hermione grabbed his arm, pressing herself into him.
"Draco, no!"
.
.
.
"What? What is it?"
"Please, just let me go with you," she pleaded.
Teddy sighed again, and her heart sank.
"I can't. Believe me, if I could bring you along, I would in a heartbeat, but… What's the matter?"
Hermione hesitated, wondering if she should voice her concerns. Teddy bent down so that they were eye to eye, eyebrows furrowed in concern.
"Hermione, what is it?"
She pursed her lips, discreetly glancing at Flint whose patience seemed to be growing thinner by the minute. Teddy didn't miss this, and he turned them so that her back was facing Flint.
"Did he do something to you?" he demanded.
She furiously shook her head.
"No, it's just… A few months back, he and Draco… He said some things, and I don't- I don't really want to be alone with him," she quietly confessed.
Teddy glanced over her shoulder with a scowl.
"You won't be. Nick and Damien will be there…"
Hermione scoffed, not comforted in the least at the thought of the guards.
"…and I know that Malfoy gave you…a personalized gift a while back. Do you have it with you?"
Hermione nodded, the small gun resting snugly in her right boot. Teddy glared over her shoulder again, eyes narrowing.
"If he tries anything, shoot him."
Hermione released a shaky breath, nodding before reluctantly walking towards the dark SUV.
"About time. Get in the bloody car, already," Flint complained.
She frowned at him, but slid inside, nonetheless.
The ride back was quiet, Nick and Damien not saying a word in the front, and Flint staring out of the window beside her. Draco said that he would probably stop by after a "meeting", if nothing else came up, that is. She stared out of the window, wondering how her mum and dad were doing. The last time she'd seen them had been at Ron's funeral, and that was awkward, to say the least. They'd talked and exchanged pleasantries, but the tension between her mum and her was thick. It was obvious that she hadn't told her father the truth, and she was thankful for that. The tension only grew when Draco had arrived to pick her up. The look on her mum's face when she had gotten inside of his car still troubled her.
She sighed, wondering if her mum would ever come around, and forgive her.
She frowned as she realized that they were pulling into a familiar, grand driveway. She opened her mouth to voice her confusion when Flint spoke over her, his gruff voice startling her.
"We're dropping the money off to Riddle first, and then we'll take you home…"
Hermione scowled. That didn't really make much sense in her mind. It had always been easier to swing by her place first… She fiddled with her fingers as Flint exited the vehicle, leaving the three of them in there while he reported to Riddle. Nick and Damien never spoke, none of the guards hardly ever did, so she doubt they'd have answers for the change of routine. Remembering Teddy's words, she leaned down in the darkness and slid her gun out of her boot, slipping the small weapon inside of her deep coat pocket just as Flint's door opened.
He hopped in, and Hermione kept her hands in her pocket as they rode to her house. The car ride was silent once again, and the air buzzed with tension. Or was that just her? Was she being paranoid? Since the card game and the night she'd discovered Teddy's secret, she hadn't really had much interaction with Flint. Looking back, he'd stayed away from her. Of course, anytime they were even near each other Teddy was there too.
The SUV pulled to a stop on the curb outside of her house, the rumble ceasing as Damien turned the car off. Before she could move, Flint was opening his door and hopping out. Her confusion and nervousness grew, and she looked up front, but both of them were facing forward.
"What-?"
Her question was cut short when her door was yanked open, and she stared down the barrel of a gun as Flint ordered her to get out. Her eyes widened, hands still shoved into her pockets, one clutching the gun as she began to slide out.
"You take me for a fool? Hands where I can see them… Try anything, and I'll put a bullet in your mouth," he hissed.
Hermione shakily removed her hands, inwardly cursing as her feet touched the ground. He motioned for her to walk, and she did.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Her question went unanswered, and her fear spiked once they got to her door.
"Well? Open the door," he ordered.
Hermione hesitated, knowing that letting him inside of her house would not end well for her. She gasped as his fingers came up to dig into her neck, shoving her forward as he pressed the gun rather harshly into her back.
"Open. The. Door."
"I have to get my keys out of my left pocket," she said, voice trembling.
She jumped when his hand dug into her pocket, shoving them into her hand. With shaky hands, she unlocked the door, and no sooner did she find herself shoved inside, hands bracing her fall as she fell to her knees. Just as the door slammed shut, she rolled over, kicking him in the knee. She had been aiming a bit higher, but he keeled over either way.
She hurried to her feet, slipping her gun out just as he tackled her to the ground, the small weapon sliding to a stop beside her couch. His own gun was beside them, but when she went to reach for it, he gripped her wrist, pinning it to the floor.
"My only regret is that Malfoy isn't here to see me mount his bitch," he laughed, fighting to pin her legs down beneath his own.
She spat in his face, catching him off guard long enough to get her knees under his stomach. She shoved him off of her, hands just barely brushing his gun when his hands wound into her hair, yanking her up. He kicked the gun away, twisting her left arm behind her back, and Hermione hissed in pain. A shudder passed through her when he brushed his lips against her ear, grinding himself against her.
"I want to see what all the fuss is about. It's so unfair that Malfoy gets you all to himself, don't you think?"
She reached back with her free arm, aiming for his face when he let go of her hair and grabbed that one too. She found her face pressed into her wall and her arms pinned behind her back.
"He's never had any qualms about sharing girls before. All too eager, even, to pass them along once he's had his fill," he purred, teeth nipping at her neck.
She struggled against his hold, fear growing by the minute.
"However, he seems quite smitten with you. Maybe I want to be smitten too," he murmured, sliding his knee in between her legs.
Hermione reared her head back, satisfied when he howled in pain, and she broke free. She ran for the gun, but he was right there in front of her, a feral grin on his face. She darted past the couch, and he followed, imposing frame on the other side as he waited for her to make her next move. She ran past her table, shoving it into his legs before sprinting to her kitchen.
She didn't look back to see if he'd fallen, but she could hear his angry curses as she quickly slid a knife out of the block. She ran to the entrance, plastering herself against the wall, waiting for him to come in.
"I'm in no mood for games, Granger. I told your boyfriend that I'd find out for myself in due time…and I meant that."
He was closer now, and Hermione clutched the knife tighter. Just as his face came into view, she swiped, drawing blood along his cheek before aiming for his chest. He caught her hand, the blade only an inch away from his chest before wrestling it out of her hand, cutting both of them in the process. She lifted her knee, and this time, it reached her intended destination.
Her feet carried her to the living room, frantic eyes searching for a gun, either one. The outside light caught on something shiny, and she dived for it. She aimed it at him just as he faced her, hands pressed against the doorjamb. He grinned.
"Toss that over here, Granger before you hurt yourself," he chuckled, tilting his head to the side.
Hermione swallowed, glancing at the gun, realizing that it was his gun she was holding instead of the one that Draco had gifted her. It was larger than hers with a much longer barrel too. She figured that a gun is a gun, and they still worked the same, so she tightened her hold. He spread his arms out.
"Do it, Granger," he sneered.
She scowled at him, pulling the trigger, only to falter when it clicked. She pressed it again, and again the same thing happened. He walked towards her with a laugh, and she stumbled back, eventually opting for hitting him with it. He slammed her back into a mirror that was located on her wall, a cry escaping her lips as the glass dug into her back. His fingers came up to dig into her throat, and Hermine brought her elbow up to bring it down onto his arm, just like Draco had taught her, but she hadn't been expecting the blow.
Her head whipped to the side, cheek burning as she fought to get him off of her. He struck her again, and her world was spinning before she felt her shoulder colliding with her floor, rolling along the wood. She felt the tip of his shoe dig into her gut, and she coughed, rolling again. She glanced up through her hair, eyes falling on her gun, right there in front of her. Her fingers clasped around it, the sound of him undoing his belt ringing in her ears like a bell.
She rolled over on her side, facing him, and pulling the trigger. Her eyes widened as he stumbled back, clutching his stomach before collapsing, horrifying noises escaping his mouth. Her heart was racing in her ears like a wave, adrenaline pumping through her veins as she pushed herself up onto shaky legs. Her door flew open, and she shrieked, shooting at whoever it was. Luckily for both of them, she missed, the bullet going through the wall next to his head.
She sighed in relief as her eyes caught familiar blond hair. He ran towards her, eyes raking over her disheveled form, hand reaching out towards her, a gun in his other hand. She was panting, hair sticking to her face with sweat.
"Damien and-."
"I took care of them," he said, eyes resting on her bruising face.
Flint's labored breathing could be heard, and Draco took one look at him before putting a bullet through his head with a sneer. Hermione's chest was heaving as she collapsed onto her couch, looking around her damaged house. The back of her shirt was soaked, with blood no doubt, and her face and hands were on fire.
Draco heaved a sigh, running his hand through his hair, a humorless chuckle escaping his lips.
"Fuck."
Fuck indeed.
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