A/N: So, originally, I had all this cute, fluffy stuff planned for V-Day, but my brain decided it would rather write something darker instead. So...that's what this little ficlet is. There will be three parts in total. I will update again on Saturday.
As always, alpha love to honeysweetcutie :) This one is for you!
Completely unbeta'd: all mistakes are mine.
Tom Hughes as Tom Riddle (as if there's any other choice)
TRIGGER WARNINGS ABOUND. Read at your own risk. If you are triggered by ANYTHING, I suggest you turn back now.
The Ritual
Hermione always knew when he arrived. She always felt the shift in the wards, heard the crack of Apparition outside the windows. Those were true of anyone that came to headquarters, but when it was him, she felt it in her bones. This time, her heart skipped a beat as her breath hitched. He was two weeks ahead of schedule. Whatever it was that brought him here tonight, it wasn't good.
She hooked her finger over the page and closed the book around it, peering through the darkness as she heard the Order members walk into the kitchen. There weren't any doors to close them off like there were at Grimmauld, but no one was expecting her to be there. So no one put up wards to silence them off as he joined them in the kitchen to deliver his report.
Hermione shrank back into her chair, holding her breath as she wandlessly enhanced her hearing so she wouldn't miss a word.
"Draco, your visit is unexpected," Kingsley said.
"This news couldn't wait."
"What is it?" Arthur asked, his voice more tired than she had ever heard it.
"The Dark Lord has ordered large raids on Muggles. He has given permission to bring as many of them to him. Men, women, children; anyone."
"What for?" McGonagall asked, voice laden with worry.
There was a moment of pause before Draco gave his answer. "The ultimate Revel."
Hermione shuddered hard enough she thought the chair might rattle and give her away. Her mouth went dry and her empty hand gripped the arm of the chair until her knuckles turned white. Since Voldemort's victory at the Battle of Hogwarts, Revels had become a staple. Something everyone had agreed was a fate worse than death.
"What do you mean?" Arthur asked.
"Lupercalia," Draco said. Hermione's brain went into overdrive trying to place the word. "An ancient fertility ritual from the Romans. He plans to bring it back and put his own twist. It will take place on February fifteenth as it did then. Complete with a sacrifice. He's searching for the perfect person in the hopes of awakening ancient magic."
Kingsley muttered a stream of curses under his breath, Arthur sighed and sank into a chair at the table, and McGonagall gasped in horror and clamped a hand over her mouth.
"We have time to stop this madness," McGonagall said at last.
Two months to the day.
"If they're going after Muggles, we'll never be able to save them all," Kingsley said, his voice grim. "What do you know of the day the ritual will take place? We can infiltrate."
"He plans on taking the sacrifice as his personal consort for the evening. Typically he only makes an appearance to commence them. He never participates publicly."
The moment he finished speaking, Hermione was on her feet, plan formulating in her mind. Draco's gaze met hers in the darkness and his grey eyes hardened as she stepped forward, knowing and disapproving of what he knew she was going to suggest.
"What if we infiltrate by giving him the ultimate sacrifice?" she asked.
The three elders of the Order jumped at the sound of her voice and stared at her in awe. She kept her gaze locked with Draco's, watching as his jaw tensed and he shifted his stance, no longer looking indifferent. "No."
"He would never be able to-"
"No," he repeated, narrowing his eyes at her. "You're not going anywhere near the Revel."
"You've told me plenty of times that he refers to me as Potter's Mudblood and constantly imagines scenarios of what he would do if he had me." She took a deep breath and gave the smallest of shrugs. "I would be his perfect sacrifice. And you said so yourself; he entertains his consorts privately. That means we would be alone. The perfect opportunity to take him out."
"He still has Horcruxes," McGonagall said, her voice clipped.
Hermione nodded and finally broke her gaze with Draco to look at her idol. "Yes, but if we can destroy his physical body, it would diminish his reign like it did last time. Now that we know about the Horcruxes, we can go after them and take them out. We can prevent him from coming back."
Silence settled the room, an awkward tension filled the space between.
"This is too good an opportunity to pass up," she insisted. "And name one other witch who would be able to pull this off?"
"He'd be happy to kill you, no doubt about that, Granger, but you're a Mudblood. He would never touch you."
The venom in Draco's voice made her tremble with anger. He hadn't said that word or meant it in a long time. She knew he was trying to deter her. That when the meeting was over, she should expect quite the row. "This is the Dark Lord we're talking about," she said, unwilling to waver. "He's the most depraved of them all, Draco. When I'm presented to him, the idea of killing me will get him so worked up, he won't care how filthy my blood is."
"Hermione, this…" McGonagall started, her hand reaching out tentatively for hers. "This is dangerous. Draco's right; your status-"
"Will be exactly what makes me the ideal choice." She looked around at the room at the four of them, her eyes landing on Draco last. "I can do this."
"It won't just be the two of you," Draco said after a moment. "He usually has others in the room with him, watching, ready to fetch whatever he requires."
"Who is it?" she asked.
"One of his most trusted," he replied. "He rotates us, tells us it's an honor." He reached up to rub at his chin. "Sometimes he demands…participation."
Hermione's throat tightened as she forced herself to swallow down her fear. "Has he announced who will be his witness this time?"
Something flickered in his eyes that made Hermione's stomach flutter with nerves, but he clamped down on his emotions and carded a hand through his hair. "It doesn't matter," he said, his voice cold. "Because you aren't going."
"Draco-"
"No!" he snapped, stepped closer to her, disregarding the three elders in the room. After a moment, he hissed in pain and clutched at his arm. "That's final, Granger," he warned, looking at the other three. "I'll be back in a day or two. We can discuss other options then," he said, pulling at the lapels on his suit jacket before turning towards the door and moving towards it.
Hermione watched it slam behind him and waited half a second before taking off after him. "Draco!" she yelled, stopping him in his tracks.
"Get back inside, Granger. This isn't up for discussion."
"This is the best plan."
He whirled around on her, grabbing her by the throat. "If I have to Obliviate or Imperio you, so help me, I fucking will." He hissed again and she felt his tremors of pain as he tightened his hold on her. "I have to go," he said, his hand sliding back into her hair.
She nodded and let out a sigh as she closed the distance between them, her lips seeking his. "Be careful."
"Same to you," he murmured against her lips.
With a heavy sigh, he pulled away from her and continued to the edge of the wards. With a troubled glance over his shoulder, he inclined his head and disapparated with a loud crack.
Hermione pressed her fingers to her lips and waited a few seconds before turning back and slipping back into the safehouse. The three elders stopped talking immediately and stared at her. "Do any of you have a better plan?"
"Hermione, what you're proposing-"
"I know what I'm proposing," she interrupted McGonagall. "I've been sitting on the sidelines for too long. This is our chance to do something. I can end this. I know I can."
The three of them exchanged a glance.
"Draco will never go for it," Arthur said, unable to meet her gaze.
"Let me worry about him," she said, her voice wavering slightly.
"And if he never agrees?" Kingsley asked.
"He will," Hermione breathed. "He has to."
It was four days before Draco was able to return to the safehouse. Hermione was washing the dishes she had used for dinner when she heard the familiar crack and felt the wards give way to his presence. She lifted her gaze to the window over the sink and watched as he approached. He opened the door as she was putting the last dish on the drying rack, her hands still on the plate when he wrapped his arms around her from behind. He buried his nose in the crook of her neck and pressed her against the counter.
"Anyone else here?" he asked.
"No," she replied, leaning back into him, tilting her head to the side so his lips could drag across her skin. "But they'll be here soon." His presence always altered those that knew he was on their side. Whatever safehouse they were currently at, they had ten minutes or less before they were no longer alone.
"Guess we'll have to be quick then."
A smile tugged at her lips as he spun her so that she was facing him. She brought her hands up to cup his face and brought it down to hers. Their lips met, crashing into one another in a hungered frenzy. They treated all of their trysts as if it were the last one. Simply because they never knew when it might actually be it. And after she dropped her news on him, it might very well be the last time.
Her lips parted with a groan as he tightened his hold on her hips and spun her around, pushing her into the table. The wood scraped against the floor from the impact. As much as she wished they could move this upstairs and give each other the time and attention their bodies deserved, they didn't have the time. Making do with their stolen moment as per the norm, her hands dropped to his waist and clawed at his belt and trousers while his hands tugged up the skirt of her dress. Once the material was bunched up around her waist, he lifted her onto the table and stepped between her legs.
She pushed at the waistband of his trousers and boxers, moving them down just enough before wrapping her hand around his length and pulling him out. He moaned into her mouth as she stroked him in a way that had him hard and weeping in mere seconds. As one of his hands pushed back into her hair so he could deepen their kiss, the other crept down to run through her folds. She hissed with pleasure into his mouth as he teased her clit.
She whined and nipped at his bottom lip as he withdrew his hand in favor of coating his cock in her arousal. She bit down hard, tasting blood as he slammed into her, burying himself all the way to the hilt. Hermione wound her arms around his neck, one hand resting on his shoulder while the other cupped the back of his head. He hooked his arms behind her knees, bringing them as close as possible, and began rocking his hips against hers.
She broke the kiss, abruptly throwing her head back as heat spread over her, stemming from where their bodies joined. She tipped her head to the side as his lips found her neck. He suckled, nipped, and licked at her skin, eliciting moan after moan from her. Her hips bucked as they tried to find his rhythm. When one of her moans turned into a frustrated whine, he unhooked one of her legs to tease at her clit again. Her hips jerked in response; he always knew what she needed.
"Draco!"
"Come for me, Hermione," he demanded, his voice husky with lust. He groaned against her throat. "Fuck, I'm close."
She nodded in earnest. She could already feel herself beginning to crest. Her walls were clutching at him, trying to draw him in deeper. If anyone had slipped through the wards, she was sure they were getting quite the earful. Her moans increased in frequency and volume as his fingers flew across her clit.
"Oh gods," she moaned. "I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm- Draco!"
He came right along with her, slowing his movements to long, leisurely strokes as he emptied himself inside of her and extended her high. When they both came crashing down to reality, she dropped her forehead to his shoulder and panted for air as he peppered kisses to the crown of her head. They lingered there, neither one ready to leave the solace their arms brought one another.
They only pulled away when they felt a tug at the wards, signaling they were no longer alone. Draco stepped back as he whispered a spell to clean them both. He tucked himself back into his trousers and redid his clothes at the same time she got to her feet and smoothed out her skirt.
No sooner had she sat in a chair at the table did the door open and Arthur walk in first. He hesitated at the doorway before slowly peaking around the corner, smiling at the sight of them not wrapped up in one another. Hermione smiled back at him, ducking her face to hide the blush on her face. Once he had walked in on them and that was the only reason everyone had agreed to not arrive at the precise moment he activated the wards to her safehouse.
Draco waved his wand and five glasses came parading out of the cabinet, landing on the counter beside the fridge. He opened the door and took out the pitcher of tea she kept in there. He poured it into the glasses, put back what was left, and then sent the glasses to the table. He took a seat beside Hermione, placing his hand on her thigh beneath the table as they waited.
By the time Arthur had slid into his seat, the wards thrummed twice followed by two cracks, one after the other. Soon, McGonagall and Kingsley were walking into the kitchen. After an exchange of acknowledgements, they took their seats and looked between Draco and Hermione expectantly.
"Any plans?" he asked them, squeezing her thigh when her lips parted. "Ones that aren't completely asinine."
Hermione closed her mouth, lips pressing into a thin line as she watched the three elder members exchange a glance. Slowly, they looked at her and then at Draco. She felt him tense beside her and then removed his hand from her as if she burned him.
"Draco, we feel-"
"I said no."
Hermione kept her eyes on the glass before her as he glared daggers into the side of her head.
"Draco, we have been trying to come up with something better than what Hermione proposed, but we all agree," McGonagall said, her voice tentative, knowing he would lash out. "It is the best plan."
Hermione jumped despite the fact she knew it was coming. His fist slammed into the table hard enough that she heard the wood splinter. He shoved his chair back roughly and got to his feet, shaking out his hand. She could see red around his knuckles where blood welled through the tiny cuts.
"We don't need you in order to carry this out."
Hermione knew the moment the words left her mouth that Draco was going to completely unhinge. She felt his him snap like a rubber band when he stilled his pacing behind her. Slowly, he turned towards her and she got to her feet to face him, her back to the Order members.
"Excuse me?"
"I don't need your permission to continue. I can get caught by anyone and they would take me to the Dark Lord and I can carry on as planned once I'm behind closed doors." She held his gaze even when his eyes darkened with rage and his scowl turned murderous. "It would be easier if we had your help, but it's not a requirement. For this."
"Fine. You want to offer yourself up like a whore for the Dark Lord, tell me your brilliant plan."
She flinched at his choice of words and took a deep breath. "For starters, fuck you, I am not a whore."
"Trust me, you'll be treated like one if you do this."
She crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her chin in defiance at him. "Oh? And you would know what the Dark Lord does? Are you one of his most trusted that is honored with watching his most depraved acts of violence?"
"Yes."
Her bravery faltered slightly. She hadn't really prepared for that answer. She was taken aback by the jealousy coursing its way up her spine. "Just how many times have you participated?"
He stepped closer to her and she felt the table biting into her back. "As many times as was necessary. I do what I have to, same as everyone else."
"Then let me do something!" she snapped, pushing her face closer to his. "This is my chance to help."
"What the hell do you want me to say, Granger?" he barked, slamming his palms on the table beside her, leaning in so she had to arch backwards while he seethed in her face. "This isn't a simple 'take one for the team!' This is-"
McGonagall cleared her throat and the two of them turned their heads towards the others to see that they had all stood and were holding onto their wands hesitantly. Draco pushed himself back from her and resumed pacing, muttering under his breath. "Maybe the three of you could-"
"And let the two of you hex each other to death?" McGonagall interrupted. "I think not."
"I'll go," Draco said, taking a step towards the door. "We're done here."
"Draco, stop!" Hermione shouted, reaching out to grab his wrist.
His eyes landed on her fingers and then slowly traveled up until his gaze met hers. "Let go, Granger. Or I will carry out the threats I spoke of last we met."
Her response was to tighten her hold and look at the other three. "Please leave. I'll contact you later."
For a moment, there was a silent tension around the kitchen. Arthur was the first to incline his head, stash his wand, and make way for the door. Once they exited the house and made for the Apparition point, Draco yanked out of her grasp and rounded on her like he had the last time. This time though, he did apply pressure on her throat as his fingers wound around it.
"Maybe the isolation is getting to that mind of yours, Granger, because it seems that you've gone completely off your rocker."
She pushed back against him, clawing at his hand until he loosened his hold. His hand remained, but it slid a little further down, the heel of his palm resting above the swell of her breasts. "Draco, this is an opportunity we can't pass up. This is something we've been waiting for. You know it. I know you do. If there were something better, don't you think I would have come up with it already?"
He shook his head, disbelief twisting his mouth into a scowl. "There has to be another way. You have no idea what he's capable of. The things he'll do to you…" He shook his head and leaned in, wrapping her tightly in an embrace. "And if you fail, that's it. You'll be dead. All those plans we have for the future die with you."
She held onto him just as tight and sighed into him. "I know the risks, Draco." She took a deep breath and pulled back, cupping his face and brushing the hair out of his eyes. "But if I succeed, the Dark Lord is gone. He'll be the one dead and our future won't be a bunch of what-ifs. We won't have to sneak around pretending we have a future. We won't have to be scared to talk about us. We'll be able to have a life together instead of just a few stolen moments here and there, wondering if it's the last time or not."
His hand rose to cup her face, brushing tears from her cheeks that she hadn't even realized had fallen. "He's already chosen me as his honored guest," he whispered. "That means I'll have to watch. I'll have to do whatever he asks me to." He swallowed hard and his eyes turned glassy. "He will make me hurt you."
She nodded. "It will be no different than anything else you've had to do this far."
"Granger-"
"No, listen," she urged, sliding her hand back into his hair. "I mean it. Do whatever it is that you would normally do when he asks these things of you. I'll know you don't mean it and I'll forgive you, Draco. I promise, no matter what, I'll forgive you." She brushed over his bottom lip with her thumb, catching a tear drop. "Will you be able to forgive me when this is all over? No matter the outcome?"
He nodded and surged forward, capturing her lips for a sweltering kiss. His mouth was relentless against her, tasting every bit of her as if committing it to memory. "Things were far easier when I hated you," he murmured when he pulled away for air.
She let out a puff of air and nodded against him. "I love you too."
"Will you love me after, too?"
She smiled up at him as she continued to wipe his falling tears just as he did the same to her. "I will love you until the end of time and as far beyond as the gods allow me."
He smiled and kissed her again, just his mouth against hers, lingering as long as he could. "I love you too, Hermione." He pulled away and turned to look at the clock. "I have to go."
"When can I expect you back?"
"I'll come by tomorrow, same time. Just you and I so warn everyone else ahead of time. We can finalize this madness you call a plan then."
She nodded and reached for his hand. Silently, they made their way to the end of the wards before he drew her in for another spellbinding kiss. Without another word, he pulled away from her, slipped beyond the wards, and disapparated with a loud crack.
The moment Draco had left, Hermione put out the call for the three others to come back. She let them in on what Draco had agreed to and then watched the Apparate back to their own safehouses. When she was alone, she withdrew to the sole bathroom and took a bath, mentally preparing herself for what she had signed up for. After that, she had gone straight to bed, dreaming of Draco; the freedom so close she could taste it as she nodded off.
The following day she spent thinking of all the ways she could take out Voldemort once she was there. As the day progressed, she found herself going mad as the more scenarios she proposed for herself, the more generated on their own along with an endless list of questions. She knew the only thing that would quiet her mind was Draco's appearance and his ability to give her answers.
She was pacing the space just inside the wards where he always appeared. When he slipped through, her jaw dropped at the sight of his blackened eye and split lip. "What happened?" she asked, hands immediately yanking his face down to her level so she could inspect him.
He winced, but didn't try to pull away. "Muggles fighting like Muggles."
Hermione went still, but kept his face in her hands. "You-"
"You know my role in the Dark Lord's regime, Hermione. I did what I had to," he said, pulling away from her. "And this will heal. I'm fine."
She took a few deep breaths, pushing the mental images of war away. They never talked about his job. She knew what it entailed. She knew it was hard enough on him and that he didn't want to taint her vision of him by dumping his duties on her. "Have you eaten?" He shook his head and she gestured for him to follow her into the house. He sat while she rummaged up a plate of leftovers for him. "How much time do we have?" she asked.
"Longer than usual," he replied, tucking into his meal. "We have a lot of ground to cover." She nodded and watched as he ate in a way that reminded her of Ron. It felt as though she had barely blinked before his plate went from full to nothing but crumbs. He pushed it away and set his fork down across the center. "Thank you."
She took his dish to the sink and moved to the living room, grabbing his hand as she passed and pulling him down next to her on the sofa. "Where should we start?"
"I need you to fully understand what you're getting into, Hermione."
She nodded, her nerves knotting up her stomach fiercely when he refused to meet her gaze. "Tell me."
He shook his head slowly and reached over for her hand. "It would be better if you... If I showed you."
She frowned as she thread her fingers through his, squeezing tightly. "Okay."
He finally looked at her then. There was true terror in his eyes as well as guilt and sorrow. "What you're about to see," he warned, pausing to clear his throat. "He'll do worse to you. He'll make me do worse to you."
"Does he always make you participate?"
"Not always," he replied, his voice quiet. "But he will with you. He doesn't know about us, but we have history. He'll take how I used to feel and-"
"I get it," she said, reaching up to card her fingers through his hair. "Just like I told you yesterday. I forgive you for everything you'll have to do; every action, every word. All of it."
He nodded again and then shifted so that he was facing her. She saw his face relax and knew that he was preparing to let her into his mind. When he was ready, he squeezed her hand. She did the same and took a deep breath before she whispered the spell and felt her mind leave her body to join with his.
As was usual with Legilimency, it felt like gliding. When she entered his mind, there was nothing to keep her anchored to the front of his mind. Instead, she continued on down the stream of his thoughts until his Occlumency brought her to a stop. When his own presence wrapped around hers, he led her down the path he had carved just for this purpose and she let the images in.
He was a natural Occlumens which, on any other occasion, she was grateful for. His memories were always clear and concise, giving her a perfect window to the moment he recalled as if she were right there beside him when it happened. It was unfortunate that this also proved to be the case when witnessing Voldemort in the height of his depravity.
Time and time again, Hermione was met with the image of blood and broken bodies. Of a man she didn't recognize physically, but everything about his attitude screamed that this was Voldemort. She briefly wondered if it was Tom Riddle. If he hadn't found a way to reverse the effects of Dark magic and turn back to his human appearance when the occasion warranted. That that was the man took what he wanted from whoever the victim happened to be in that moment.
Screams resonated in the depths of Draco's mind and left her trembling. Men and women begged for their lives to be over rather than have their bodies ravaged over and over again. He would flay them alive, bit by bit, taking pleasure in their pain. He would cut them, whip them, fuck them until they were nothing but a boneless heap. When he finally did bring mercy to them, it was far too late to be considered humane.
What broke her indefinitely was watching Draco play his part. She could feel his emotions as he watched from the sidelines, commanded not to look away. Forced to keep a mask of indifference about his face while internally he was screaming and wishing he could do something. It was even worse when he had to shift that mask into one of a bloodlust she knew he didn't possess. Watching him be the one to inflict the pain as Voldemort had done had her magic skipping and she retreated quickly.
They were both breathing hard and leaning into one another; tears cascading down their cheeks. "I can't do this, Hermione. You can't do this." He held her face between trembling hands. "Don't make me do this."
She didn't want to. Deep down in her gut, she knew that, but she wouldn't meet the same fate as the others. She would put an end to this and then no one would ever have to suffer at the hands of that monster ever again. When she told him as much, he squared his shoulders, clenched his jaw, nodded once, and sat back. After she steadied herself as well, they began to plan.
"When do you take me in?"
"The night before. I'll say I'm following a lead a day or two ahead of that. We'll have to make it look like a struggle when I bring you in."
She nodded and smirked a bit. "Fourteen-year-old me is dying for a redo."
He scowled at her for a moment, but it quickly turned into a smirk, wincing as he reopened the split on his lip. She accioed Cream of Dittany as well as some Bruise Remover Paste from George. "You won't have your wand," he said as she uncapped the Dittany.
She paused before dipping her finger into the cream. It had crossed her mind that that would be the case, but to have it confirmed was a little more terrifying. She only nodded as she massaged a small amount onto his lower lip. After she capped the jar, she repeated the motion with the paste over his eye, her touch even more gentle than before.
"I can practice wandless magic then."
He shook his head. "Not good enough," he said. "You could practice for years and your magic will never match his. If you're going to kill him, we'll need something more effective."
"What about a dagger?"
His brow quirked up as his lips curved down. "And where do you plan on hiding a weapon of any sort, Granger? You'll be stripped during your search and that will be the last time you wear clothes until I get you out."
She eyed him wearily, her fingers pausing on his skin. "You're sure you'll be the one in the room with us?"
"Positive."
"Will you be searched?"
"Not unless the Dark Lord himself has cause for concern," he said, his voice heavy with realization. "He always takes a break or two. I imagine I'll have a moment alone with you at some point while he does so."
"Then you'll be the one to have the weapon and as soon as we can, you'll give it to me. When he returns, I'll take him out."
"Did you see the state he leaves people in, Granger? You won't be in the right frame of mind for that. And even if you were lucky, you have zero combat skills."
"So teach me."
"We have two months. There's no way I-"
"I can brew a potion to help with muscle memory. That way, I'll learn fast and when the time comes, it'll be second nature. Coupled with the flight or fight response, I'll be fine."
His lips quirked into a smile as she drew her hands away from his face. "Let me guess, you found this potion in a book?"
She wiped her hands on her pants and then tucked her curls behind her ears. "Don't I always?"
He smirked and leaned back against the couch, drawing her into his side. "I'll find the dagger."
"Goblin made," she said. "And if you can use connections to get some Basilisk venom, do it. If you end up getting some, dip the dagger into it."
"Isn't that what Potter did to the Sword of Gryffindor?"
She nodded. "It might be overkill, but I'd rather cover all my bases."
They went about finalizing their plans and when they had everything as nailed down as they could, they moved onto sating their needs. More than once they found the comfort only they could provide one another. This was the longest he had ever been able to stay and it was only when the first tendrils of dawn began to peak through the windows did he part ways. He promised to be back as often as he could to be the one to train her, but encouraged her to enlist one or two other Order members that could help.
By the end of the second week, thanks to the potion, Hermione's knew how to fight as if she had been doing so her entire life. What they focused on more than anything was the power and strength behind her offensive strikes. Draco taught her all sorts of moves that were geared more towards defense than offense. By the end, she could slip out of nearly any hold and had more than once bested him.
He trained her in other useful ways as well. He used Legilimency on her every night as well. Sometimes before they sparred, sometimes during, but always after. He would alternate between going in undetected; seeing how long it took her to notice and forcing his way into her mind, ignoring the way she would scream with pain until she learned how to put up her defenses faster. And instead of blocking him completely, she had learned the art of redirecting her thoughts. That way, she would be able to show the Dark Lord something relevant, but not detrimental to the Order should it all go wrong.
The last thing he trained her on was pain and pleasure. Just like with Legilimency, any chance he had to make her cry out in one of two ways, he took. From what she had witnessed in his memories, she knew the Dark Lord liked to addle the brain by forcing them to reach their peak over and over again, never stopping no matter how much they begged. The more Draco did the same to her, the more she could tolerate and still keep her sanity about her when it was all over. The pain aspect of it was so that she didn't succumb to the draw of a blade against her skin right off the bat.
He didn't put half as much effort into the pain as he did the pleasure, but she was grateful for the help all the same.
The night before the Revel, Hermione paced the property as well as the house, unable to sit still. Whereas most of the world would be gearing up to receive chocolates or something romantic from their partners, she was ready to be taken prisoner. The fact that the next twenty-four hours could be her last was not something she could stop thinking about.
As per part of their plan, she had brewed an assortment of healing potions and Draco would keep on his person. If everything went well, she would be able to take them right after it was over and, depending on her injuries, he could bring her to a proper healer after their departure. Even then, realistically, what she had the ingredients to brew would be no better than a Muggle Band-Aid.
When Draco charged through the wards, she had been on the porch. She was already on her feet and running to him as he did the same to her. They met in the middle, clashing together in a frenzy of need. They sank to the ground, not caring that they were out in the open; that if anyone chose that moment to visit, they would be catching quite a show. She was glad that she had said her goodbyes without saying them the other day and hoped it was enough to deter people from stopping by now.
As it was, when Hermione found herself flat on her back in the grass, Draco was already deep inside of her. Her legs cradled his body to hers as she hooked one around his waist. He grabbed one of her hands and held it above her head, the other propping himself up enough so he could lean in and kiss her.
This was the last time. Whether it was actually the last time or it was the time before everything changed drastically; they didn't stop until neither one of their bodies could handle anymore. When the time came to go, they redressed and got back on their feet. She handed him the vials of potions. He charmed the little bundle to shrink and be unbreakable so he could store them in his bag. The same one she had cast an undetectable extension charm on to mirror her beaded bag. She knew the dagger lay inside it as well.
He stepped back from her and spread one arm out while the other pointed at his face. "Alright, Granger, let your fourteen-year-old-"
Her fist connected with his face right between the eyes before he had even finished speaking.
"Fuck!" he hissed, his hands covering his face. "Merlin, that fucking hurts."
She smiled briefly. "You'll survive."
"We both will," he said, leaning in to capture her lips again, hissing into her mouth at the pain when her nose smacked into his. "I love you, Hermione."
"I love you too, Draco."
He raised his wand, pointed it at her, and with a shaky breath, said, "Petrificus Totalus."