Authors note: Sorry! I updated the wrong file and instead of chapter 56 it was a creepy ass demon draco one shot. I'm sure those of you that were looking forward to a spy romance were NOT expecting to read a chapter of erotic horror with more tags and warnings than this story has - including cannibalism. I'm so sorry if it upset anyone!
Chapter 56
Hermione opened her eyes to see the pale, early morning light creeping through the window. She would never get tired of waking up, spooned by Draco. Reveling in the feel of the skin of his chest against her back and his heat surrounding her, she loved to sleep with their legs intertwined and his strong arms holding her securely against him. Although they had fallen asleep with her cradling his head to her chest, their bodies shifted during the night and now she was completely enveloped by his larger frame.
The cadence of his breathing indicated that he was probably awake. Hermione turned around to face him, somewhat wary of the aftermath of his break down. The warm skin of his arms slid against her body and she swiveled in his embrace. Draco's clear grey eyes were wide open. She wondered how long he had been awake, watching, and unwilling to disturb her.
He seemed to have recovered from the agony of last night. But she couldn't tell what he was thinking. She was about to speak and his nostrils flared in anger.
"Don't go." Draco must have realized that he sounded vaguely threatening and changed to a more contrite tone. "Please."
He was still mad about her attending the summer party at Malfoy Manor. But his eyes were bright grey with the morning sun. They weren't dark and dangerous like last night. They were loving and concerned, not controlling and menacing.
"Draco," Hermione asked cautiously. "Last night…" She paused. She didn't want to say anything that would set him off again, and searched his eyes for any hint of that menacing gleam. There was none. "I was frightened. I didn't understand what you were doing or why it was happening."
He cradled her face gently. "I would never hurt you. If you didn't want to be spanked, I would have stopped."
"Are you sure about that?"
"Yes." His eyes widened in horror when he saw the doubtful expression on her face. "Yes!" His voice rose, insistent. "Why would I…" He shook his head. "I was angry because I was scared you'd get hurt. Or worse. Hermione, my aunt will be there. They all will. She'll see right through you and those two tossers of yours."
She narrowed her eyes at him.
Draco began to breathe heavily as he became more agitated. He slid his fingers into her hair. "You don't understand. I've been tortured. My parents, too. My friends. I see what they do to prisoners – what I do to prisoners. Hermione, you'll beg for them to kill you and I won't be able to do a fucking thing." He sounded more desperate. "Thoughts of you getting caught and killed are constantly in the back of my mind and now you're just… walking right into it." His fingers curled tight, pulling slightly on her scalp.
She studied his eyes, and the grim line of his mouth, and felt the muscles of his arms twitch as he warred with himself. He wanted to protect her, just like she wanted to protect him. But because of using the Imperius Curse, he was struggling with a dark and deep seeded possessiveness. A need to control.
"It's the Imperius Curse, isn't it?"
Draco's brows slowly came together at her statement, but he didn't look surprised.
How could he not have told her?
"You knew about this?" Unable to stop her anger from coming out, her voice rose in volume.
"I suspected," he answered warily.
"Then why didn't you say anything?"
His hand went slack against her head, slipping to fall on the sheet between them. "I wasn't sure – I'm still not. And I tried to tell you I'm changing I just…" He was almost pleading with her. "Maybe it's because I have to Occlude all the time?"
Draco didn't want it to be true, and was fighting the evidence. Her anger gave way to sympathy as she recalled him explaining that pieces of him were being taken away and replaced with something else.
He was scared. Not only was he terrified living as a spy, but he was fearful of what was happening to him.
Hermione felt awful. He was being subjected to Dark Magic to help the Order and had no way out. The Order wouldn't get him out and she had no way of knowing whether or not Kingsley would give him a pardon when the war was over. Kingsley was so damn cagey and wouldn't commit to anything.
She needed to work harder on researching the laws of pardons. There must be something to force Kingsley's hand when this was over.
Hermione's voice softened and she reached down to take his hand. "Sustained Occlumency doesn't help, obviously. But it doesn't explain everything. Did you know that your eyes darken sometimes? I can see the change."
His eyes widened in surprise. "They darken?"
She nodded wordlessly and he rolled over onto his back with a sigh of resignation. Draco spoke tonelessly to the ceiling.
"Unforgivable Curses affect casters differently but that's one of the common symptoms. My aunt's eyes have always been black." He turned his head to face her. "I've been holding several people under the Imperius for months. It's…" he searched for something in her expression while tried to explain himself. "I have these moments where all I can feel is a need to…" he swallowed nervously pressed his palms into his eyes. She waited while he took a few steadying breaths. "A need to control. Not just you, I feel it in other situations, too. But here, I can let myself go. It scared me before, but you enjoyed it so I didn't worry as much. It seemed relatively harmless. I don't know if I'm explaining it properly. It's just…" He rubbed his eyes and dragged his hand over his face. "When it happens it's overwhelming. Everything else seems trivial."
There was a slight tremor in his voice when he spoke. He must be anxious of scaring her. Truth be told, she had been scared of him last night.
"Do you feel like you can't control yourself?"
Draco shook his head. "No, I know what I'm doing. It's still me. That's why I said I would never hurt you. It just becomes harder to…" He paused as he considered his words. "I lose perspective. All I can focus on is what I want."
"A focus on what?" she pressed on with morbid curiosity. "What's going through your head?"
"Sometimes…" He shifted his gaze to her chin, seemingly ashamed to meet her eyes. "The thoughts I have scare me."
"Scare you?" Hermione repeated worriedly. Was he dangerous to be around or not? She wasn't sure.
"No! Not like–" he stammered when he saw her expression. "I don't… I wouldn't…" He was getting more upset as he tried to help her understand. "They're just thoughts," he implored her. "Don't you ever fantasize about doing things you'd never actually do?"
She raised her eyebrows. "Sexually?" Hermione couldn't help but be intrigued, even if she was still apprehensive from what happened last night.
His cheeks flushed. "That's only with you. With others, my thoughts are… violent." He swallowed and watched her reaction as he explained. "Much more than they used to be."
"Because you're using the Cruciatus Curse."
Until last night, she never would have considered Draco to be a violent person. But as a Death Eater, he had to be. And the dark magic was making it worse.
"Probably," he answered. After a pregnant pause he added, "Yes."
She gnawed on her lip. It was worse than she feared. She had to get him help, and wondered if he had ever used the Killing Curse.
"Have you–"
"No." His voice trembled when he cut her question off, already knowing what she was going to ask. "No. Not that. Not... not yet."
It was only a matter of time; Draco knew that too. Her stomach churned with dread at what would happen when he started using all three regularly.
But Draco was like a ticking bomb of sorts, wasn't he? Forced to do things against his will and holding everything inside. Everyone has their breaking point and he had his. It was only a matter of time. She hoped it wouldn't get any worse.
Using Unforgivable Curses explained part of the evening, and some of his behavior before: during the storm, after his nightmare, and when he spanked her. Hermione couldn't figure out what had caused him to spiral out of control afterwards though. Why he had screamed at her like that.
"I still don't understand why you wanted me to hurt you."
Draco's eyes flashed, and he slowly sucked his bottom lip into his mouth.
"I don't know either," he rasped. "I just do."
"Do you think it's related to using the Cruciatus Curse?"
Draco peered at her in thought. "I don't think so; from what I understand, increased violence towards others is typical behavior. But my father…"
He stopped speaking, and appeared unsure if he should continue. Lucius Malfoy would have killed her and her friends, fourteen and fifteen-year-old children, in the Department of Mysteries. The man was a terrible person. But he was still Draco's father. They had never spoken of him since she taught Draco the Patronus charm.
"What about your father?" she asked gently, and squeezed his hand in encouragement.
His eyes met her gaze. "He was never violent towards me or my mother. The opposite."
"He loves you."
"Yes," Draco clenched his jaw, she could tell he was conflicted about something, and remembered that he failed to make his Patronus from a childhood memory with Lucius. "Yes, he does."
"Can you ask him?" The thought that Lucius Malfoy of all people could help Draco cope with the effects of Unforgivable Curses was ironic.
He shook his head. "No. He's not an Occlumens. I'll get him in trouble. And myself."
Her heart sank. Hermione wondered how Tonks dealt with dark curse usage. Based on what Hermione witnessed of her relationship with Remus, it was something that could be treated, and the Aurors knew how to do it. She'd ask Tonks, and get him help.
Draco watched her while she thought through ways to help him. He seemed worried that he scared her – and she was frightened. Maybe he thought she would leave – which she wouldn't. None of this was his fault. She leaned forward to press her mouth against his, trying to reassure him, gently prodding his lips open with her tongue.
His shoulders sagged and he whimpered in relief. Hermione deepened the kiss, her tongue rubbing against his, and he slid his arm around her, pulling her in close. As their lips molded together, and she kissed his upper lip and his jaw, she tried to tell him that she would stand by him. She felt the tension leave his muscles bit by bit, and tried to comfort him with her caresses.
It wasn't his fault that the dark magic was affecting him. If the Order hadn't dangled the pardon in front of him, he might have found another way for himself and his parents to leave. She wanted him to know that she was here for him, that she wouldn't give up, and that she'd find a way to help him. She ran her hand through his hair and spoke against his mouth. "I love you. I'll see what I can find."
Draco touched her forehead with his and closed his eyes. "Thank you."
His exhalations ticked her mouth and they lay still, wrapped in each other's arms. All she heard were the crickets outside, and the sound of their breathing.
Despite her resolve to find a solution, she'd still have to be wary of setting him off.
"Draco," she said, considering her words carefully. He opened his eyes at her cautious tone. "This won't be the last time I do something for the Order you don't agree with."
He studied her for a few seconds and then slowly tightened his arms around her, drawing her close into his chest.
"I know," he muttered into her hair.
0000000000000000
Draco Apparated into his bedroom before his family met for breakfast. He was worn out from his break down last night, extremely worried about her coming to the Manor, and angry that she hadn't listened to him.
But most of all, he hated how she had looked at him.
Afraid.
As if she didn't know what he would do and had to tread carefully. Draco remembered how he felt, overcome with a need to punish her for defying him. The compulsion to possess her had been overwhelming. But after he calmed down, it became a kind of game. The moment had passed and he was relieved. He would never hurt her, of that he was certain. And he had continued in the role play, thinking she enjoyed it on some level.
But then Hermione hit him, and he completely lost control. Draco didn't understand what had happened then. He thought of Hermione sitting astride him while he was tied up, her eyes flashing in righteous anger. From the moment she smacked him, all he could think about was her unleashing her fury until he came. Nothing else mattered and it was almost dizzying with the blood pounding in his head. He'd never gotten off on pain before, and it was frightening now that he looked back on last night, and how much he needed it.
How much he still did.
Draco's body thrummed from Hermione's bites, kisses, smacks and touches. He peeled off his jumper and stared at his shirtless figure in the bathroom mirror. There were dark bags under his eyes, giving his pale face a haunted look. She hadn't bruised him; her smacks hadn't been that hard. But he wished she would have.
Reaching up, Draco traced the semi-circle of her teeth indentations with his finger. The bite marks were red, almost purple. Closing his eyes, he inhaled a shuddering breath at the memory of her marking his body. He didn't want to be so aroused, but he was.
Tentatively, he dropped his hand from his neck to his chest and over his member, already growing hard under his trousers. He imagined the ropes tightening around his limbs and he fingered the fabric over his prick, jerking his pelvis forward slightly.
He trailed his fingers downward, creeping around his balls to cup himself, and pictured Hermione punching him in the face. Flinching, despite nothing being there, he thought of Theo's many bruises. It was enough to make his cock flaccid again and he dropped his hand.
Draco leaned on the sink and studied his eyes, blowing his hair out of the way with a puff of breath. They weren't dark now, but he didn't know what Hermione saw when he was overwhelmed with that insatiable need to make her his. He gripped the countertop and dug his fingers into the marble.
Would he become abusive? Was that the path he was heading towards? It couldn't be. He wouldn't hurt her. Even when he was engulfed with the sudden need to possess her when she didn't listen to him, he didn't want to hurt her.
He would never hurt Hermione.
If anything, he wanted her to hurt him.
Draco didn't understand the differences between his father and Nott Senior. Both had used all three Unforgivable Curses throughout the First War. Maybe love was the difference. As Hermione pointed out, his father loved him. Draco hadn't ever thought about whether or not Nott Senior loved Theo. He was simply cruel to his son. Maybe there wasn't any love.
Exhausted, he walked back into his bedroom, waving his wand for the perfunctory check on his detection spells.
His stomach lurched.
Fuck.
A house elf had been in his room last night.
0000000000000
The past few days, Draco tread lightly around his mother and father, waiting for the axe to fall, not knowing if one of them sent the house elf, or if it was just by chance. As a precaution, he stopped his nocturnal visits with Hermione, but things appeared normal between the Malfoys.
Draco followed his father into the Floo, having finished their business at the Ministry that week. Blackmail, bribery, threats, extortion. The Malfoys were slowly cementing the Dark Lord's death grip on wizarding society. Draco wanted nothing more than to head out to their Quidditch pitch to clear his head, but his father rested his hand on his shoulder.
Something was up.
His father's icy eyes bored into him. "That was elegant work with the head of the DMLE. A fine conclusion to months of preparation. You're holding how many under the Imperius Curse now?"
"Six."
"Six." His father gave him an appreciative glance. "Quite the achievement." He studied Draco for a few moments before speaking again. "Let's have a drink before dinner."
Draco sensed a trap and goosebumps spread up and down his neck. Much as he craved the positive attention, his father barely complimented him, certainly never invited him to have a drink. Full of dread, Draco followed his father into the library. He didn't know if the house elf had reported to his mother or his father, and he hadn't seen a change in either of their behaviors. After more time had passed, he had the ridiculous hope that the elf had been merely performing duties in service of the Manor such as checking the temperature of the room.
But he doubted it.
Draco followed his father into the library and his father, back turned, poured and handed him a glass of brandy. After the party at the Greengrass's he was paranoid about being served drinks and wondered if his father would dose his own son with Tongue Loosening Serum.
Draco wouldn't put it past him.
He tilted the glass to his lips and pretended to swallow. His father eyed him over the rim of his tumbler, and took a full swig. He let the drink sit in his mouth for a few seconds, and then swallowed.
"Draco," his father began. "Crushing the Order and any semblance of resistance to the Dark Lord's reign has become our family's priority. Due to that singular focus, we've neglected other duties." His gaze shifted to something behind Draco. "Ah, Cissy. Excellent timing."
Draco turned around to see his mother enter the library with a glimmer of excitement on her face. His mother's presence and demeanor were comforting, but something was up, and both his parents were in on it. He watched his mother traverse the thick green rug of the library. She leaned over to place a light kiss on his cheek before sitting next to his father on the couch.
"Lucius told me you're making a name for yourself at the Ministry."
Draco wondered how much his mother approved of what they did, considering it was her that insisted he stay here instead of going to Hogwarts. It was her version of choosing the lesser of two evils for her son. Much as he despised the political machinations, he was grateful to his parents, and his mother in particular, for saving him from the horror of attending Hogwarts with the Carrows.
"I'm doing my best," Draco replied, shifting his gaze between the two of them.
His mother's smile was real, but his father's small grin didn't quite reach his eyes. Lucius found out. He must have, but didn't tell his mother. Draco didn't understand how. He had been so careful. He twisted his glass in his hand nervously and then stilled the movement, hoping his father didn't notice.
Lucius rubbed the rim of his glass with his index finger back and forth, and Draco waited for him to explain the purpose of the surprise attack. His father seemed to have sensed Draco's worry, and allowed the silence hang in the air while Draco's mind raced, wondering what was in store for him.
"You're eighteen now," his father began. He took a slow sip from the brandy, enjoying his son's discomfort. "A man of your age should be married. At the very least engaged."
Draco released a slow, measured breath, and did his utmost not to show outward signs of relief. His father discovered Draco's disappearances at night, and must have assumed it was an affair and nothing more. Once again, he had to admire Hermione's foresight in how she communicated with him through the Galleon. If it was ever found, and he had no reason to believe it would be, an affair is exactly how their correspondences would appear.
Indeed, that was his father's assumption after having caught him stealing away. He wondered if his mother knew. Probably not. She was just excited to see Draco married. He thought back to Theo's comment about popping out pure-blood babies.
His mother was looking forward to the end of the war, and he knew she wanted grandchildren. A light at the end of the tunnel.
Gazed down into his glass, his father's voice rose slightly in feigned disinterest. "Is there anyone in particular that's caught your fancy? I do remember you were with the Parkinson girl for a time."
He wanted to know who Draco was sneaking out to see. If it was someone his father approved of, he would set up the marriage contract. If it wasn't, he'd get a lecture on Malfoy bastards and the witch's parents would be threatened. If not the witch herself.
Draco wondered if his affair with Elizabeth served a dual purpose. The first, obviously, to get files from the Financial Bureau. The second purpose, and one he hadn't considered at the time, was that his father may have hoped that some side action with someone inconsequential, not of his choosing, would prevent him from starting up a more serious relationship with someone he did choose.
Which had happened anyway.
Draco felt anger rising within him. He hated the way he was manipulated by his father.
"No one at the moment," Draco lied smoothly.
His father knew there was someone, and he knew it wasn't Pansy. If his father did dose him with Tongue Loosening Serum, he would now know Draco had suspected as much, and didn't drink the brandy. His father would conclude that he wouldn't approve of Draco's secret lover, and that Draco cared enough to protect her.
Drink and tell the truth. Don't drink and he'd figure it out anyway. A classic Lucius Malfoy trap. It didn't matter what course of action one took, his father would get what he wanted.
Draco clenched his jaw but his father revealed nothing with his close lipped smile.
"I think it's time we remedied that situation."
His mother rested her hand on his father's thigh. "Pansy is with Theodore now, Lucius," she replied. "But there are so many wonderful young ladies that have come of age. Did you have your eye on anyone in particular, Draco?"
Likely there was a short list of pre-approved eligible witches for Draco to choose from at the ready, courtesy of his mother. Even without this bloody war he wouldn't have had any choice in his future. Whoring himself out for the Dark Lord for fucking financial documents of all things, or selling himself and his future to ensure Malfoy assets and interests stayed within pure-blood circles.
It was all the same.
He did his best to appear happy for his mother. It wouldn't matter anyway. If the Order lost, he'd likely be dead. If they won, there was no way in hell he was marrying anyone from that short list, but he had a role to play right now. And he already knew who was on that sodding list.
"Astoria," he replied brightly.
His mother's smile widened and she nodded in approval. "Astoria Greengrass is a wonderful young woman. Such beauty and poise. She'll make you happy, Draco."
"I think so, too." Astoria was unattached, on the younger end of the group of eligible witches around his age, and relatively naïve in comparison to the other pure-blood women he knew. She wouldn't suspect anything untoward and was too nice for him by far. Briefly, he felt some regret at dragging her into his shit but it couldn't be helped.
"Excellent choice," his father replied.
He refused to look at Lucius' barely concealed smugness, now having trapped Draco into falling in line.
Again.
Fuck.
Draco wondered how Hermione would receive the news of his engagement. No, she'd understand. She understood his position with Elizabeth as well.
He was lucky to have her.
Hermione. He wouldn't be able to see her anymore. At least, not as often.
Draco didn't think his father would be able to tail him and figure out where he was going, but he had to err on the side of caution. His rage intensified at the loss of one of the only things in his life that he had chosen for himself.
His mother glanced back and forth between the two men and her smile faltered.
"Should we owl the Greengrasses now?" Draco suggested, hoping to preserve his mother's happiness for as long as it could last.
Her eyes crinkled again in mirth. "I'll take care of it. Perhaps a fall engagement party?" She glanced questioningly at Lucius. Draco stared down at his glass. That was only a few months away.
"Yes. The Order should be destroyed well before then."
Those were the rumors. Time was running out and Severus had said there would be another raid. But when? Where? How?
Draco needed to find that Hufflepuff cup. His mother's summer party was only a few days away. He hoped he would find answers.
"I'll be back in a moment." His mother left the library and Draco glared angrily at his father.
"So that's it for Elizabeth?" he retorted rebelliously. "No more whoring myself out to the Financial Bureau then? She'll be devastated."
His father's lip curled.
Next chapter: The Malfoy summer party
I love the reviews, thank you all so much for leaving them. 3
