A/N: Please take a look at the story 'Everything to Lose' by Heptagon - I promise you won't regret it!!
Alright, Happy reading!!
Final Days of Virtue - Chapter 8
After sneaking off after classes, directly before nightfall, Draco made his way to Malfoy Manor to have dinner with his parents. The diligent house-elves raced around the dining room, placing the large dishes and delicious fodder all over the chestnut table. Draco remained quiet, waiting for the questions to spark, most likely after the actual dinner.
Just as he expected, Lucius spoke up directly after the plates were cleared.
"How has school been, son?" he asked, almost sounding likely he actually cared. Almost.
Draco replied, "Challenging, as always. Seventh year has been difficult, but fortunately I am the top student, with only Blaise trailing me. I'm doing quite well, father."
Lucius shifted in his seat, obviously annoyed at the answer. Draco bloody well knew what he was asking yet purposefully avoided it, not really feeling up to par with discussing his relationship with Hermione, in their eyes–the mudblood, at the dinner table.
Clearing his throat, Lucius uttered, "Draco do you have any idea how much trouble this is causing me?"
"What exactly are you referring to?" he asked unnecessarily.
"That mudblood!" he barked, rising to his feet and shaking the table. "I have been dealing with Goyle and Zabini griping at me for my son's foolish behavior and I cannot exactly disagree with them. They've definitely proved their points with how you've been acting and you know what I'm talking about."
Draco stared up into his flushed face, his eyes blazing with a mixture of severe fury and acute disappointment. Draco would have laughed, beyond his father's physical punishments at this point, but he knew the situation needed to be discussed. Might as well get it over with now.
"If you're referring to Hermione—"
"I am referring to the mudblood. Tell me what the hell is going on between you two," he hissed, sitting back down in his lofty seat. "I am not interested in you beating around the bludger, but instead just want you to tell me."
"What is there to tell?" Draco asked, his body shaking with anger over his father's harsh name calling of his beloved. "Hermione and I are...well, we're together and I don't see the problem. She is on our side, after all."
Though Draco reasoned well with an almost obvious answer (at least in Draco's eyes), Lucius was far from satisfied. In the next instant, he was shaking the table as his mounting angered toppled over; "How dare you say that?! The mudblood is no more on our side than anyone else. Certain people may trust her, but I sure as hell don't."
"The Dark Lord does!" fired Draco.
"The hell he does!" yelled Lucius right back. "Are you kidding me? Do you honestly believe that he has any faith in that mudblood bitch?!"
Draco looked mad enough to kill and his frame of mind, he probably would have had it been anyone other than his father standing before him.
Narcissa's chest rose and fell rapidly, the intensity of the situation scaring her half to death. She stared with wide eyes at her husband and son, both wizards capable of incredible things, looking at each other with near hate. In her mind, she was completely torn at who to side with; both parties were correct on some level. Her husband definitely knew a thing or two about the Dark Lord, much more than either her or their son, and in so meant he probably was spot-on regarding what Voldemort thought about the ruddy Granger girl. The silly little thing already caused more problems than her value. For all they knew, Hermione's loyalty fell more toward the light side, the side she'd always known, rather then their own. On the other hand, the girl spent over a year with nobody for company other than her son. Hermione listened to him, learned from him, and damn near lived with him for over a year, a long time for her to realize the mortality of the light side and the future triumph of the dark. Obviously she felt something for Draco and who could blame her with Draco's God-given looks? Narcissa had always been thankful an incredible appearance seemed to befall in the Malfoy family. Like a lucky star, Draco had been blessed with angel-like coloring framed by chiseled features. Hermione easily could fall for him under the circumstances, especially if she honestly fell in alliance with their cause. If her son fell in love, and Narcissa fully believed and supported all things surrounding love, then she encouraged Draco in defending the honor of his beloved, even if it meant defending the Granger girl against her own husband.
However, the conversation ensuing revolved around father and son, withholding Narcissa from inserting her own opinion in. Draco and Lucius probably could have used Narcissa's input from the moment it started, but the men did not seem to care about what she thought.
"Hermione is fighting for our side and I'm done with hearing you bedevil her like some common house-elf. I'm sick of this father!" barked Draco, his normally pale skin flushed into a crimson hue.
Damn you, father! Bloody evil git has caused me nothing, but problems since birth. I'm so over this...
"Why do you insist on defending her over everything?" asked Lucius coldly, his voice dripping with distaste. "I hardly remember you saying similar things when it came to any of the Slytherin girls you dallied with."
"The Slytherin girls put together can't even equal one of Hermione. She is more intelligent, more beautiful, more courageous, and sure as hell more loyal to any of us—"
"She is loyal only to you!" barked Lucius, knocking his chair backwards.
"I swear to Merlin—"
"ENOUGH"
Four eyes, two grey metal and two icy blue, shot over toward the blonde woman who looked madder than a hatter. For the first time, Narcissa yelled at the two most important men in her life. Draco appeared startled while Lucius looked perturbed; she'd never raised her voice at him like that before.
"I have been listening to this argument for far too long. The Granger girl is on our side, whether you like it or not Lucius. She is in the midst of proving herself to be a strong supporter of our side and I wish you'd see and understand that."
Most men would cower down if their wife, a normally quiet woman, sparked off like a mother toward her tangent throwing three-year-old; but Lucius did not associate himself with most men nor did he tolerate being referred to as one. So he did not recoil sharply from his angry wife and instead opted for standing tall and remaining abnormally quiet.
"Now as for you," she began, turning her attention to Draco, "I understand that you feel something for this girl—"
"I love her," he interjected tersely.
"Alright, I understand that you love this girl, but you cannot keep doing this to us or yourself."
"What are you talking about?" asked Draco blankly.
Narcissa sighed, "You were born into a family of high importance and with the importance came a role. You are suppose to honor your family and our cause first. Now, unless this girl is a part of the family, you put what the Dark Lord wants first."
"What if I want her to be a part of the family?" Draco did not look up when he asked the question. If he had, he would have seen a look of complete incredulity on both of their faces.
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Hermione paced her room for several minutes. Minutes turned into hours and hours turned into a full day. Hermione literally spent one of her remaining three days of complete virtue pacing a hole into her bedroom floor. Pavarti and Lavender tried to coax her into leaving during various times of the day, insisting she needed something inside of her stomach, but she refused and turned them away. After they left she went back to pacing.
And pacing...
And pacing...
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Draco searched the halls of Hogwarts like a bogart searching for fear. He desperately needed to speak with Hermione and to hold her until the sun came up. The conversation between his parents took a toll on him making Hermione seem like the best remedy.
He knew she'd been pacing that morning (or so he heard through the gossip train of Hogwarts during morning breakfast), but he did not know what became of the poor girl. He could not exactly go to Gryffindor tower so he relied on someone who would be able to find her—
"Weasley," drawled Draco, standing behind the short redhead. "I need to talk to you."
"About?" she asked, turning around to face him. He noticed a chagrined smirk on his face yet found it almost appealing. At least it was expected.
Draco ran his left hand through his silvery hair before he said, "I'm looking for Granger. Do you know where she is?"
"May I ask why?" she inquired without any intention of giving him an answer.
"Blaise mentioned something to me regarding her workload and said she was falling behind in Potions. As the student with the premier marks in the subject and the head student in nearly every other field, he thought I'd do well in helping her. I'm a busy guy so why don't you just tell me where she is?" He finished with his familiar sneer vandalizing his pretty face.
"She's busy upstairs. I'll tell her you came by if she decides to leave her room."
Ginny turned to leave, but Draco's voice halted her; "I don't care what she is doing. Get her ass down her now considering I don't feel like––"
"You know I really don't give a fuck about what you feel right now," she spat hatefully, knocking Draco for six at her harsh use of language. It was one thing for him to drop the f-bomb, but for the short and normally friendly (well, friendly to everyone except me, he thought gratingly) girl it appeared unusual. "Hermione is recovering from a year long absence and I highly doubt if Potions is on the top of her priority list. Now, if I see her, I will let her know you were looking for her. Whether or not she decides to act upon that is up to her. Good day, Malfoy."
Ginny marched off down the hall, unaware of Hermione's presence around the corner. Draco turned and spotted her there with a small smile. With a short and terse inclination of the head, Draco followed her down the hall keeping a fair distance between him and her. Upon reaching the seventh floor, directly in front of the old tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, they entered the room of requirements, one at a time, to find precisely the room they were searching for; featuring a bed, a couch, a light source, and privacy from the rest of the school.
"Ugh," she moaned, wiping her hands across her face, sitting on the feathery pillows of the yellow couch. Draco could sense she felt as tired as she looked.
"You really could do well with some sleep before everything goes down," he suggested, taking a seat next to her.
Hermione snuggled into the crook of his arm, feeling, to Draco, like a place of complete serenity had finally been found. Everything seemed right when they were together; an absolute utopia. Nothing could go wrong as long as they had each other and remained that way.
Forty or so minutes later, Draco finally spoke.
"Love, there are a few things we need to discuss," he whispered, breaking the comfortable silence.
Hermione mumbled, "Like what?" Her voice sounded croaky and laced with the vestiges of sleep.
"First and foremost, we need to discuss how you're approaching the battlefield. I'd prefer you to stay off the field, safe with my mother, but I am not naive enough to believe you'd be willing to do that."
"Good," she snapped, "cause I'm not."
"Fine. Then how are you going to approach the field?" he asked dully, absentmindedly rubbing her left shoulder.
Hermione thought for a moment, finally uttering, "I'm going to fight next to you. I'm going to be there from the moment the first spell is launched."
"Do you think that's wise?"
Hermione's brow formed a 'V', furrowing in confusion. "I don't understand," she muttered lamely.
"It's an easy question, Hermione. Do you think it's wise to show yourself at the battlefield like that. Just to abruptly show up on our side, divided by an invisible line for maybe a mere five minutes before the killing curses are flying through the air? Do you think it's wise to alert everyone on Potter's side, including Potter himself, a man out for blood, that you're now fighting for the Dark side?"
"Then what do you propose I do? Show up on Potter's side and have everyone think I've lied or reverted back to his? I can't win in anything I do. If I fight here, I'm hated there. If I fight over there, I'm hated here. I can't win." Her last words were quiet; defeated.
Draco abruptly faced Hermione and pulled her into a fierce kiss, wrapping his arms around her petite body. He pressed her down into the couch, already inching up pieces of the clinging material on her body. Breaking away from her lips, trailing soft kisses down her collarbone and neck, he whispered, "I trust you. It's all that matters."
Those words changed Hermione's mood.
"What?" she asked, no longer aroused by Draco's lustful caresses.
He retorted with an unintelligible reply, too busy with feeling her up to speak clearly. Hermione, nonetheless, wanted an answer and pushed him back. He looked bewildered at this.
"Did you just say that it's okay if you trust me because that's all that matters?" Her question sounded like it was filled with acerbity, but she evidently wanted an answer.
"Hermione I don't want to think about this right now—" he began, but Hermione cut him off quickly.
"Well we have to," she hissed bleakly. "Damn it, you keep saying you trust me and that's all that should matter. Well, just in case you truly believe that, your opinion is not the only one that matters!"
She pushed his arm away, allowing herself to sit up off the couch where she resumed the pacing she'd been doing for most of the day in her bedroom. "You keep coming up with that as an excuse for me not having any allegiance with anyone on our side and yet I don't see that as something to comfort me right now. Truth be told, it did very little to comfort me the first time you said it."
"Correct me if I'm wrong," he hissed, sounding more pissed off than she'd heard him in a long while; "I seem to remember you saying all of this was about my love. The only reason you were going to fight was because of me and now suddenly my love doesn't seem to be enough. I don't know what the hell to do about you anymore!"
"I do love you Draco and I truly want to go the distance with you. I want to marry you and have lots and lots of little Malfoy brats with you, but Merlin...I'm scared! I'm really scared that I'm going to walk on that battlefield and die or worse...you'll die and leave me here in this chaotic abyss. I don't think I could take losing you..." She broke off, beginning to lose battle with the impending tears which wanted to fall. I won't cry! Crying is for the weak and I am NOT weak!
"Hermione you're not going to lose me. But...you knew what you were getting yourself into. You knew this war would mean risking everything and yet you still decided to participate. Come on...you always knew this would be a possibility," Draco said sensibly, almost bluntly harsh, in a soft voice.
"Oh yeah," she replied, with a false smile, "I forgot I said that. I forgot I was stupid enough to believe everything would work out. I forgot I was so asinine in how I thought everything would just be bloody peachy!"
"Okay...now you're just be condescending," he quipped. Had it been the right moment, his words would have been comedic. However...
"You think this is funny? You think this is some bloody joke?" she asked, so calmly it nearly scared him.
"Hermione I..."
"This is a disaster. All of this is some big disaster..." she breathed, sounding like she nearly was in pain.
"The only disaster seems to be us," Draco murmured, almost under his breath.
Almost.
"What?" Her near-inaudible voice sent tremors down his spine. Fuck, he knew he'd hurt her.
"Hermione..."
"Wow. I knew everything was messed up, but I damn well thought us...us being together...I thought we were the only thing that felt right," she whispered brokenly. "I guess I was wrong."
"You weren't...you aren't wrong. We are right and we...we'll get through this—"
"Just go." She whispered the words, but with extreme force and power behind them. Draco felt everything crumbling and he certainly did not want to end on this sort of note with her. Not like this; not when they needed each other more than ever.
"Hermione, I really think—"
"GO!"
And Draco did go, leaving Hermione in the room to sulk and gnaw on her worries for several hours, well into the night. Him leaving would cause much reflection in the years to come. What if he hadn't? What if he had stayed with her and just held her close, refusing to break apart until the morning came? What if he had done that?
Could certain deaths have been prevented? Unbeknownst to them now, there would be several unexpected casualties on the battlefield. There would be injuries rivaling Draco's near death experience when Potter had performed 'sectumsempra' a year prior. There would be deaths and there would be pain...there would be murder. And at a time when they should have been clinging to the other for emotional and physical support, they argued. They were fighting over something which could have been resolved if either of them would have let their pride down for just one ruddy moment.
So in the years to come, yes, there would be reflection. One might ask the question, 'If I knew it was going to end this bad, why didn't we just leave when we had the chance?'
That would be the question, but which one of them would be the one to ask?
A/N: I am SO sorry about the long wait!! I actually had finals last week so I completely shut my brain off from anything unrelated to my studies. I lived and breathed my text books and notes for a while and this story was far from my mind. Then I got on break and my friends basically kidnapped me everyday, all trying to squeeze in time with me before they head back to their own colleges. Plus! My birthday is in a few days so everyone wants me to do things with them. Blah!! I know, I know - poor excuses, but it's all I've got right now. I know this chapter is short, but I personally hated the timing of it all. I wanted to jump right into the battle, but I can't - I needed the scene between Draco and his family and, as pointed out by ChocolateVeela (Thank you darling!), I needed an argument between the couple to ensue. The next few chapters will be better. And hey! I totally gave away what will happen in the next chapters to keep you guys guessing. Does that make up for it?
Oh - And I'll try to update 'A Dream Worth Keeping' in the near future.
READ AND REVIEW!! If you can read it, then you can review it.
Evil's Mistress is the work of fanfiction. The characters belong to J.K. Rowling, but the featured story is mine.