FIFTY-TWO
Sunday, 14 December 1994
Hermione had been walking along the streets of the neighborhood she had grown up in. The air was cold and she had forgotten her coat. She wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed at her biceps, hoping the friction would be enough until she got to the bus. It seemed as though with every step she took, the air grew colder and colder. Soon, she could see her breath in a puff of smoke upon exhales.
Just as she considered turning back to wait out the cold, she turned the corner and found herself in a field. It expanded as far as the eye could see and was complete with rolling hills and flowers of all colors. She turned to look back at her house one last time, but it was gone; as though she had Apparated on the spot without even knowing. And it was warmer here.
Her arms slowly dropped down to her sides and she turned her face up towards the sun. She took a deep inhale, enjoying the earthy, floral scent, and upon exhale, couldn't remember what she had been walking towards. Instead, she sat upon the grass and laid back to stare at the clouds in the sky. The breeze was gentle as it washed over her and the warmth began to penetrate her skin, calming her to the core.
She closed her eyes and just listened the wind rustling the blades of grass around her. She couldn't recall a time where she had felt so at peace and she just wanted to sit and enjoy it for however long it lasted. She turned to lie on her left side, her arm stretched out as she gave into the serenity that lulled her to sleep. Soon, the gentle tickles of her hair caressing her face felt more like a lover's touch. Like fingertips dancing along her skin.
"Hermione."
The voice was soft on the breeze. Familiar. She couldn't place it at first. More warmth from the hand on her face seared her skin and she leaned into it, enjoying the calm it seemed to add to the moment. She felt something slide over her wrist and she winced, but didn't open her eyes.
"Hermione."
The voice was harsher this time; more urgent. The sensation on her wrist moved down the inside of her forearm. Her mouth morphed into a silent scream as pain lanced up her arm.
"Hermione."
Her eyes opened, but it took a moment of staring around the room to realize where she was. She wasn't in a field surrounded by sprawling hills being lulled to sleep by a gentle wind. She was in the Room of Requirement, lying in the iteration of her old Gryffindor dorm. She was lying on her side with her left arm stretched out, her wrist hanging off the side. Riddle knelt at the side of the bed before her. He had one arm tucked under his chin while the other hand was raised to her face, stroking her cheek with his thumb.
There were no tears that came. Had she not been so numb with pain and grief, she would have felt fear, but she was too empty to react. Instead, she just remained frozen in place, staring back at him.
"I will not apologize for my actions," he said, his voice softer than she had ever heard it before. "It should serve as a reminder that you should never lie to me again."
She gave a curt nod of her head to show that she understood. She didn't trust her voice to work so she didn't bother with trying to speak.
"I have never lied to you. I expect the same in return. Omitting the truth is something I consider a lie as well. Do you understand?"
She gave another nod.
His lips twitched into a smile for a moment before neutralizing again. She didn't even have it in her to flinch as he leaned back a little to pull out his wand and aim it at her arm again. Her eyes simply followed down the object and landed on his rendition of the carving. It was still weeping, the crimson tears having soaked and dried upon the coverlet since she had laid down. She blinked as she watched a soft white hue cast over her skin and when she saw her flesh next, the bleeding had stopped.
"You shall remain branded. I cannot afford for you to forget you place with me again." He moved his hand back to her face, brushing a few stray hairs from her eyes.
She nodded again, trying her best to swallow despite the dryness in her mouth. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth and she nearly choked on it. Her eyes moved back to his, searching his gaze for any clue as to what game he was playing at. But no matter how hard she looked, she came up clueless.
He got to his feet then, looming over her in the poorly lit room. She closed her eyes as he reached down for her. She felt his hands on her; felt her body moving, but she kept her eyes closed and swallowed down the nausea that threatened to rise. When she stopped moving, she opened her eyes, blinking slowly. He had sat on the bed, his back resting against the headboard among the pillows. She was sitting between his legs, turned slightly so that hers were draped over his left thigh towards the knee.
She saw his right hand come up and she noticed the vials in his grasp. A glimmer of fear stirred in her gut, but it never manifested beyond a flutter. Are you going to kill me?
He hummed and it vibrated the length of her spine. His left hand rose to tip her chin backwards and his thumb swiped across her bottom lip, tugging slightly to coax her to part them. "I should. I want to," he said, tipping the first vial to her lips. "But I may still have use for you."
The liquid was sweet and flooded her mouth with much needed moisture. She swallowed it down greedily, desperate to appease the ache brought on being so parched. She drank the next two in the same manner, some of it dribbling past her lips. He wiped the remnants from her mouth and vanished the vials. She licked at her lips and sucked at the potions in her mouth until every last drop had been consumed.
She recognized two of them. One was to replenish her blood loss and the other was to return her strength and stamina. She wasn't quite certain what the last one was, but it watery and tasted distantly of flowers. Whatever it was, she felt herself relaxing against him whether she wanted to or not.
What will you do to me?
"There will still be a place for you in my kingdom," he said, one arm wrapping around her abdomen while the other pressed against hers in her lap, his fingers stroking idly at her skin. "I had hoped to make you my queen. To have you wield Grey magic at my side. You are brilliant and you stand up for what you believe in. You understand the nature of politics; dreamy and unrealistic as they might be, you still made good points."
She blinked a few times, her lids seemingly made of stone and determined to stay closed.
"But I cannot have a Mudblood on the throne. Especially one who has proved she cannot be trusted. Your place will still be at my side, but you will be a reminder to those that oppose me. To anyone that does not surrender and continues to fight. To anyone that has helped your kind in gaining a leg up in society."
A single tear rolled down her cheek then.
"This," he said, his fingers ghosting along her cut, making her wince slightly. "Was the first of your punishments. The second will be the death of Harry Potter. I have heard in your mind that neither of us can live while the other survives. He is my main enemy in your time and your friend. His death will be the start.
"Then there is the blood traitor. Ronald Weasley." Hermione took a deep breath as another tear fell. "He will die, that much is certain. The only thing I have not determined is whether or not I will make you be the one to end his life."
She shuddered at the thought of either of her friends dying. More tears fell at the thought of him using her to put them in an early grave. As if wading through sludge, her right hand came up to her throat and grasped the sapphire tear drop that hung there. "Dr-Draco?" she croaked.
He tensed behind her. "So long as you remember who you truly belong to, I will keep my word. Anything I want, you will give me without hesitation. The first sign of rebellion from you and I will strip his skin from his body and bleed him dry before your eyes."
Hermione bit back the whimper of anguish at the picture he painted for her.
"Everyone will be offered a place in my society, Hermione. Even Mudbloods. As you said, there cannot be a way to keep them from being born as we do not know what in their genetic history brings their magic alight. There are ways to suppress magic; bind one's magical core. When one is found and registered, they will be treated as the scum that they are."
"Even me?" she asked, her voice harsh.
His fingers tapped at her arm as he inhaled deeply, his breath tickling the top of her head upon exhale. "That… I have yet to decide." His fingers skimmed up her arm leaving a trail of gooseflesh in its wake. He gently tipped her head to the side and moved to brush her hair off to the side. His lips brushed against her ear, his breath warming her skin and causing her to shudder. "I should have never let you in, Hermione," he whispered, his voice a dark caress. "It would be far easier to kill you; to rid myself of temptation." He sighed and traced the shell of her ear with his nose. "Yet the thought of a world without you is not something I find myself able to imagine."
Hermione shuddered as she a slew of emotions swept through her. As he pressed his lips to her throat, she tried to process what his words meant. What effect they would have on her for the immediate future as well as the one she had to get back to. But her mind was beginning to fog; her thoughts disappearing.
"You need your rest."
Hermione's breath hitched as she realized he meant for her to rest here; on the bed where her blood still soaked the sheets. With his arms around her like there was more to them than predator and prey. She wanted to tell him that she was fine. That she could get up and go back to her own dorm, but all she did was nod. Her body continued to relax against him, her lids fluttering at the way his hand smoothed her hair and ran up and down her arm over and over again.
But the potions hadn't kicked in yet. Until they did, there wasn't an ounce of fight left in her. So she gave in, letting her mind shut off completely, hoping that when she woke next, this was nothing but a nightmare.
Monday, 15 December 1944
Draco had only taken a few bites of his breakfast on Monday morning before a bell signaled that class was starting. He hadn't seen Hermione since he had found her in the Room of Requirement Saturday morning. He had barely slept for more than a combined five hours since then. The image of her looking so haunted as well as that fresh carving on her arm left him wracked with guilt. The feeling had only intensified by her noticeable absence for the rest of the weekend.
As he stepped out of the Great Hall, he told himself if she weren't in Transfiguration, he was going back to find her.
His heart skipped a beat at the sight of her at their usual desk together. He swallowed hard and slipped into the seat beside her. He noticed the way she tensed beside him, but other than that, she ignored him through class. He didn't blame her one bit. He considered going to the library with her after like they normally did, but she disappeared from the class so fast he thought she Apparated.
He approached Charms with caution, but was glad to see that Riddle was sitting in his usual spot across the room so he took his own place beside Hermione again. Just before the end of class, he placed his hand gently over hers under the desk. He cringed at how she flinched away from him, knocking her knee on the underside of the surface to get away from him.
"Can I talk to you?"
"Malfoy-"
"Please?"
There was a moment where she sat, still as a statue before she gave the quickest of nods and began to gather her things. He walked ahead of her, trusting that she wouldn't change her mind and have disappeared when he turned around. It was he made motion to ascend the stairs that he turned. He did a double take at the sight of her still on the landing and hopped off.
"I can't… Somewhere else. Anywhere else," she whispered, her eyes darting up the ever-moving stairs in fright.
His heart sank at the panic in her voice and the way she cradled her left arm to her chest. As he watched her fingers clutch at the necklace he had given her, he nodded and turned away, looking around to think of a place where they could talk. He raked a hand through his hair and gestured with his head for her to follow him into one of the abandoned classrooms nearby.
Once inside, they both set their things down at their feet and he watched as she cast a few charms around them. When she was done, she stood facing him, her arms down at her side, shoulder's slumped, eyes cast down to the floor. "You wanted to talk?"
"Where were you all weekend?" he asked.
"Recovering."
The flat tone of her voice left a sour taste in his mouth. "Did you go to the infirmary?"
"No."
"But you had potions," he guessed. After witnessing the state Riddle had left her in, there was no way she would have been on her feet so soon.
"Yes."
His jaw clenched and he rubbed at it. "Who gave them to you?" he asked, watching for a reaction. Her lack of one had him snorting. "You must have it bad for him if you let him nurse you back to health after what he did."
Her gaze snapped up to his and her face was pinched with the faintest traces of anger. "At least he came back for me. You just walked away and didn't even care enough to make sure I didn't bleed out over the weekend."
It was his turn to flinch as her voice cracked and she hastily wiped tears from her eyes. "You told me to get out."
"You called me a whore."
Another wince, this time from both of them as she closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip to keep it from trembling further. He shook his head and let his guilt propel him forward, taking her into his arms and crushing her to him. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I shouldn't have left you there. I shouldn't have told him you were Muggleborn. I'm so sorry, Hermione."
She brought her arms up, her nails digging into his shoulders as she clung to him. Her face was buried against his chest and he could feel her tears soaking his shirt. "I'm sorry, Draco. I'm sor-"
He cut her off by pulling back enough to grasp her face in his hands and plant his lips onto hers. Their combined tears dripped into their kiss, turning it salty and bittersweet. He pushed forward, trapping her between himself and a desk, the piece of furniture skidding back from the force of which they hit it. He reached down and lifted her up, setting her down on the surface and shoving his way in between her legs.
He could feel her hands at his neck, tugging on his tie. Once it was loosened, she moved down to his buttons. She was trembling too much to make quick work of them, but he barely noticed. It was when she had undone the third one that he registered she had been whispering, "I love you," and "I'm sorry," over and over again through her tears as she continued to kiss him.
He pulled his lips from her and moved his hands to grip the desk on the outside of her thighs; thighs that were clamped around his hips like a vice. His forehead pressed against hers and her fingers flexed at his shirt. "Did you sleep with him?"
"Draco-"
He lifted his head, his vision clouding with tears. When they spilled over his waterline, they left hot tracks down his cheeks. He blinked to try and get rid of them, but they continued to rise and fall. "Hermione…" His voice was tight and he gripped the desk harder. "I need to know the truth."
Even if he hadn't already seen it with his own eyes, the sob that escaped her was an answer on its own, but he wanted to hear the words; needed her admission. Without it, he might not ever forgive her. Slowly, he saw her nod her head and it took his breath away. She lifted her gaze to him and he saw her gaze was just as glassy as his own. "You don't understand-"
He cut her off again by pressing his lips to hers. He shut his eyes tight and let himself linger as long as he dared. When she started to realize that this was a farewell, she clutched at his shirt, desperate to keep him in place. His hands fought for hers and extracted them from his clothes before holding them firmly in her lap and pulling himself from her.
"I can't love someone who betrays me, Hermione. I want to…" he said, leaning his forehead against hers briefly. "But I can't. I can't do this anymore."
"Draco, please!"
Unable to resist, he pressed his lips to hers one last time. "You're not the person I thought you were."
"I am!" she sobbed, reaching for him as he turned his back to her. "I am! Draco, don't-"
"Goodbye, Hermione," he said, taking his leave of the classroom, forcing himself to not look back. Once he shut the door on her sobs, he took off towards the grounds, not stopping until he was plunged into the freezing air. He felt his tears freeze on his face as he bashed his knuckles into the stone exterior of the castle again and again, stopping only when his knees gave out and he fell to the ground. He focused on the blood-stained snow, wondering where it had all gone wrong.