-1Warnings: This story actually has a plot, so if you just wanna read some quick smut, be warned that this isn't all this story is. Sure, there is some action in this story, but it's not for you if action is all you want. Just remember that.
Chapter Two.
Awkwardness settled itself into her gut once again, and she was reminded of the earlier events with Ron. Why had the power she felt over the boy who had caused her so much grief actually arouse her? She should have slapped his face or kicked his groin, not rub herself against him!
Hermione suddenly felt a wave of nausea and nervousness pass over her. He was under Veriteserum, what if Harry were to inadvertently ask him something that had to do with her? He'd be forced to tell him! She stole a glance at his defeated form, surprised to see him staring intently back, with a look of utter confusion and resignation in his calculating eyes. Fear struck her heart and she looked away, unsure of what she would say if he were to inquire about her actions.
"Why?" He asked quietly, his hands fidgeting with the chains binding his wrists.
Oh God. She thought, she did not have an answer. Why, why, why? "Why what?" Her voice was harsh.
Draco Malfoy stared at his captor with a look of utter disbelief. His stomach was weak, and he regretted not having had anything to eat the entire day. He had been saving his appetite for his mum's dinner. Which unfortunately he was obviously not going to be able to eat. "Why am I being held prisoner?" He reworded the question, and spoke much slower so that she might understand. His voice was too raspy for his taste. He was such a wimp! He had only been there for an hour!
"Well…Why do you hate me?" She shot back, not wanting to give anything away. There was also curiosity, because, well if he was forced to answer why not get the answers she had always wanted from him?
"Because you're beautiful, muggle born, and friends with HIM." He answered quickly. Realizing what he said, his eyes widened. I didn't have to answer that! I really didn't! He thought to himself. Draco you are soooo stupid…He sighed. "What do you want from me?" His eyes betrayed him for a moment, showing his fear as well as his anger and hurt.
Hermione looked at him as though it were the first time she had ever gazed upon his lonely form. Something awful touched at her heart and for one split second she wanted to unchain him and take him back home, then tuck him into his bed and watch over him until he fell asleep. But that thought was quickly repressed to the back of her mind as she stared openly at him, not answering his question. He sighed again, about to say something else when Harry appeared from no where.
"Hermione…are you ok?" He asked, coming up to her and looking into her eyes. She began to shake slightly and tears filled her eyes. She was not a horrible person, but she felt like one for what she was doing. No one deserved to be held prisoner for no reason except that of selfish captors. Not even Malfoy. No matter how bitter, arrogant, or evil he was, he still was not a Death Eater, which meant something.
At her lack of answering Harry became very concerned. He turned to face Malfoy, a look of pure disgust on his dark features. "Malfoy?!" He screamed, getting the attention of the other boy. "What happened here?"
"She gave me the Veriteserum." He answered offhandedly. Harry looked to Hermione to see if that was true. She nodded.
"Something else happened." Harry stated, narrowing his eyes at Malfoy. "What else happened?" He demanded, anger and hatred evident in his green eyes.
"Nothing." Draco lied, staring at Hermione, who's eyes were wide with disbelief. He smirked at her. I win. He thought to himself. She just blinked a few times, looking from him to Harry, who at this point had his back to her and his full attention to Malfoy's odd behavior.
"Good." He said loudly, and with his back still facing her he commanded, "Hermione, you should go get some rest. Tomorrow be here at ten in the morning to watch over him, Ron and I are going to attend the meeting with Dumbledore and inform him of what will by then be the keys to defeating Voldemort…So you'll have to watch him the entire day. Rest up." She only nodded, too afraid to give herself away, and too tired to resist his request. She resolved to find things out in the morning, and then inform Harry of the truth.
She apparated quickly before she changed her mind.
Thus Harry was left alone with Malfoy, who at the moment was quite fatigued, only staring helplessly (but not showing this weakness, mind you) up at the boy who held his fate in his hands.
Harry had always been very disgusted by the sight of the boy, but had taken it upon himself to do the questioning, because he knew very well that neither Ron nor Hermione could do it. He left the feeding to Hermione, knowing that, as compassionate as she is, she would be able to handle forcing food down the insufferable git's throat. And the nights to Ron, knowing the boy would make Malfoy utterly miserable. He had thought about just leaving Malfoy locked up alone, but that idea had been dismissed every time with the conclusion that he just had no idea what the blonde was capable of, so it was established that the three would take shifts watching over the boy, although he knew Hermione was getting screwed over, having to spend the entire day with the blonde.
But, Harry just figured if he could get the questioning done, then Ron would come for the night, and Hermione would then watch over Malfoy until Harry and Ron informed Dumbledore of their little "operation," and they would figure out what to do with their prisoner together. He became nervous, wondering how Dumbledore would react to the information he and Ron would divulge to him the next day.
Nevertheless, he turned to face his forlorn enemy, noticing the blood on the blonde's lips and wondering about the struggle Hermione must have gone through. Malfoy has been staring at him unashamedly, waiting for him to speak, to say anything.
The blonde had actually been injected with strong dark magic of some sort as a small child, and, upon growing older was informed that his blood stream had been injected with a sort of anti-Veriteserum, which would cause him to become immune after a mere ten minutes. Ten minutes because that was usually around the time where the giver of the potion would ask the test questions, to make sure it actually works. And, upon learning this information his father had begun to train him to think quickly when being faced with questions he would have to lie about. Thereby allowing no suspicion, as not only was he trained to answer quickly and smoothly, but logically in his lies. It would seem to anyone that the boy was, in fact, telling the truth.
And it was his father's amazing thinking that saved Draco Malfoy from betraying him, allowing the blonde boy to trick the unsuspecting Harry Potter, who immediately sat onto the grey couch and shot questions at him one after the other, which Draco Malfoy answered grudgingly, as though he were struggling to fight the non-existent power held over him by the potion.
The pieces were slowly putting themselves together before Harry's eyes as he wrote the answers Malfoy was giving him. It was all so very…perfect, the way one missing piece fit itself into the next. Malfoy on the other hand seemed utterly tortured (although on the inside he was a little too ecstatic for his body's state), which, Harry noticed, was causing him a little bit of pleasure. He was slightly surprised, as he had never gotten pleasure from the torture of anyone, not even his enemies.
Still the questioning was intense and went on for about three hours, lasting till about midnight. Although it was hard, Draco unwaveringly answered every question quickly, making sure it made sense with everything else he was being asked. It was utterly draining and stressful, but the blonde managed to get through it.
Ron arrived shortly after Harry finished recording his last answer. "Did you get the answers?" He asked curiously, glancing angrily at the blonde and then warmly toward his friend.
"Yes, and it's amazing how much sense it all makes." Harry replied. The two best friends hugged briefly and Harry apparated quietly.
"Good." Ron muttered to himself, turning to the only other occupant left in the small room. He had brought with him a hot dinner, salt and pepper in rather large bottles, and a pitcher with ice water that refilled itself instantly. "Now I can eat."
Draco stared openly at the red head as he sat down to enjoy his dinner, drinking straight from the pitcher and pouring huge amounts of both the salt and the pepper into the otherwise bland hot meal. Draco would not allow himself to show the helplessness and fatigue he was feeling, therefore the stare was of defiance.
Unfortunately, Ron was not in the best of moods at this particular moment, having been turned down by the girl of his dreams for absolutely no reason, and more importantly having to spend the night with the boy who had made his life miserable since he had been eleven. And even more unfortunate for Draco was the fact that his defiant stare was what finally tipped the red head off (who had been forced to promise by Hermione to not bloody up the blonde, but oh well the blonde looked at him the wrong way, and that was all it took. No wonder she didn't like him back.), and he quickly swallowed up the rest of his food, sucking on his fingers rather loudly and then stood up, cutting across the small difference of space between the two.
"Oh I'm sorry," he began sarcastically, "were you hungry, Malfoy?" And with that he delivered a swift blow to the blonde's stomach, causing him to visibly lurch forward, knees giving out. The blonde boy made no indication beside that that he was hurt, not even a sound was peeped from his frowning mouth. This made Ron even angrier, who began to punch at his face, bloodying up his lips once again as well as his nose. He pulled at the blonde's hair, letting out all of his pent up frustrations once and for all. He felt a terrible weight being lifted up from his shoulders as he punched openly, feeling no remorse nor regret.
"I HATE YOU!" He repeated angrily and forcefully with every blow, although the blonde just hung limply, not making a sound nor indicating hurt, it almost seemed as though he was casually taking a nap.
It went on like this for quite a while, although the actual amount of time was indiscernible to Draco.
When Ron's arms finally grew tired, and angry tears were leaking out of his eyes, he collapsed onto the couch, weeping into his knees. At this point blood was seeping through parts of Malfoy's clothes, and the blonde's breathing was labored and pained. "I hate you." The red head repeated through his sobs, feeling embarrassed and awful in front of his hated enemy. It seemed to him at the moment, that he was the weaker one, despite the way the blonde hung limply and bloodily from his bonds.
"I know." The words forced themselves from the blonde's lips, and it was very painful. It was all he uttered for that entire night, although Ron had repeated his hatred for the blonde several times before through his open weeping. Still, his words angered the blond to no end, and he stood up again, forcing his tired hands (a bit bloodied from all the punching) to pick up the salt that rested next to his empty plate on the small table in the room.
He smiled at his new idea, noting Malfoy's slightly widened grey orbs. He came closer, ripping the top from the salt, and he poured the salt onto the blondes face, despite Malfoy's efforts to turn his face out of the way. This time the blonde did scream. Ron's blood boiled at the sound of his enemy's pain and he lifted the blonde's shirt, pouring more salt and enjoying more sounds of distress that Malfoy couldn't help but make. He poured it over every wound, causing liquid to gush freely from Malfoy's miserable face. Whether it was blood or tears or a mixture of both it could not be told at that moment in Ron's frenzy of anger and hatred.
Fortunately for Draco, the salt, unlike the pitcher, would not refill itself, and eventually it ran out. Ron dropped it to the ground in a panic, noting that daylight had begun to filter into the tiny window that was high up at the opposite wall. How long had it been? He searched around for anything that would indicate the time, and then looked back at the pitiful sight of his prisoner. He couldn't let Hermione see what he had done, then he would never stand a chance.
Desperately, he grabbed the pitcher of ice water and splashed it all over the blonde, waited for it to refill, and then poured it again. He did this for more then ten minutes, until the salt and blood had completely washed away, leaving Malfoy with infected cuts and shivering awfully, teeth chattering painfully. His wounds felt better though, and he thanked Merlin for the night being finally over.
Ron, having gotten a little wet in the process, shivered a bit as well, ignoring the annoying shivering and teeth chattering that Malfoy was uttering, and sat pitifully down on the couch. Having gotten no sleep and looking like something awful, he figured that Hermione would be there soon, and wanting to avoid and confrontation with her, he apparated from the room, without even a backward glance at Malfoy.
Hermione apparated into the room soon after, looking like she really hadn't gotten that much sleep either. "Ron?" She asked, noting that he wasn't there. She had a hot plate of food in her hands, and she set it down quickly, at notice of Malfoy's state. "What did he do t you?" She gasped aloud, removing her own coat and stripping Malfoy of his shirt quickly, ripping it away.
She noticed all of his bruises and infected wounds, having rid him of his blood soaked clothes. His torso was covered in goose bumps as well, and she noticed (with a slight burn to her cheeks) that he was beautifully sculpted. He shivered, not uttering a sound as she tied her coat by it's sleeves around his chest and stomach, and then hugged him, rubbing his bare muscular arms with her hands. His hair was dripping with salt, which fell onto her lips when she came hugged him close.
"Why is there salt on you?" She asked, her voice sounding harsher then she had intended. He still did not speak, and she could have wept right there. Why did I let myself get into this, I'm not evil! She thought to herself, knowing that she was part of the reason why the young man was the way he was. When he finally stopped shivering, she removed the coat from his chest and began to rummage through her purse.
She pulled out an ointment and began to tend to his wounds, watching as they magically healed themselves before both their eyes. "Thank you." He uttered miserably, hissing through his teeth at the sting of the ointment to his salty wounds.
She did not answer, but when she was done with that, she grabbed the still steaming plate of food from the table, trying not to think about the electricity that had flowed up through her fingers at touching his bare chest. "Eat." She commanded, bringing up a morsel to his mouth with her hands. He opened up gratefully, and she pushed her fingers into his mouth. It tasted so sweet and delicious, that he greedily sucked on her fingers, slightly aware of the effect it was having on her. She grabbed another piece, keeping up with his speedy pace as he ate, feeling some of his strength coming back. Her knees were weakening and she found herself pushing her fingers into his mouth of her own accord, allowing him to get every last taste off of them. He moaned slightly, having been without food for over twenty four hours. She stopped suddenly, the sound of his pleasure arousing her more then the sound of his pain had the night before. What is happening to me? She thought miserably, feeding him the rest without allowing his lips to touch her fingers. She had questions that needed to be answered.
So, when Malfoy had finished the entire plate of food, she set it down and sat on the couch herself. He straightened up slightly, feeling much stronger, and ready for another day of hell. He could tell by her face that she was about to ask about the Veriteserum. He braced himself for it, unsure of whether or not he would answer her.
"Malfoy?" She began lightly, averting her eyes from his beautiful ones, from his toned chest and from him altogether. He stared intently at her averted eyes, feeling his new found strength waning slightly.
"Yes?" He spoke, feeling as though his voice was much too loud for the tiny room. His knees were buckling again, and he feared he would give in to any force from her if she were to try to force an answer out of him.
"Why were you able to lie under the Veriteserum?" She asked, gaining some courage and looking him back in the eye. She saw him close up and knew he was not going to speak. He didn't. She was desperate for an answer however, knowing Harry would look like a complete fool when he presents his information and it is proved false. He was her best friend, and despite the guilt she had and pity for the miserable prisoner hanging before her, she cared about Harry a lot, and felt as though it was her fault for not telling him that the Veriteserum did not work.
And it was with this reasoning that she decided to try to force the nearly broken blonde to give her an answer. She would figure it out from there. So she crossed back over to him, and although his head hung low, leaning on his chest, he found himself looking straight into the shorter girl's warm chocolate eyes. "You should probably answer me." Her tone was dangerous and he vainly tried to look away from her, realizing that he was not ready for anymore abuse nor fighting. He just wanted to go home. She began to trace his freshly healing cuts with her fingers, noticing how much the ointment had helped relieve his infections. He breathed sharply, feeling miserable. She found a really deep gash and paused over it. "Still no answer?"
With that said, she began to push her thumb into the wound, opening it back up. He gritted his teeth, staring down at her again. She flinched. Still he did not answer. "Please.." She begged, pushing her thumb even deeper, her other hand finding another cut. He cried out, feeling his cut tearing apart again. She was just about to stop, unable to take it anymore, when he finally gave in.
"Ok, ok…just, stop." He stated quietly. She stopped, quickly going for more ointment and rubbing it over his cut again. He looked at her with slight disbelief and began to speak again. "When I was little my father had me injected with very powerful anti-Veriteserum magic that still runs through my veins right now. It allows it to work for the first ten minutes, but then the effects ware away." His voice was strained, his eyes staring deeply into hers as she absorbed the information he was telling her.
"So you lied to Harry?" She asked quietly, already knowing the answer. He nodded. "But why, you're not even a Death Eater."
"My father loves me more then anyone else he's ever loved, which is not many people. I had always wanted to be a Death Eater, but it was he who told me not to, to remain neutral because he feared it was too dangerous for me. He did not want me kissing Voldemort's feet. I hated him at first, but then I realized that it was just that he loved me and didn't want me to get hurt. He's always prepared me for the worst and protected me from the dark side. He's even been training me for when the war starts. I can't betray him, I just can't. He's the only person who I love, the only person who actually loves me besides my mother. I can't…"
"Oh god." She muttered, coming closer to him. This show of complete loyalty and utter passion from her enemy sent a wave of arousal through her stomach, as well as compassion over her. She suddenly felt like the most horrible person in the world, and before she could think about what she was doing, she was lightly cupping his cheek, tears flowing freely down her own, and crushed her lips to his, careful to avoid the right corner of his mouth where Ron had punched him the night before.
He whimpered against her lips, certain that this was another way for her to try to get him to betray his father. "I won't betray him." He whimpered miserably against her lips.
"I know." She breathed back, "and you don't have to." He opened his mouth in surprise, feeling her tongue slip in between his lips. With new confidence, he began to kiss her back, his hands struggling against their chains. He wanted to touch her. She pushed her body into his, slightly aware of the pain it caused him due to his wounds, although neither of them cared. She ran her fingers through his soft blonde hair, her other hand roaming his bare chest as their mouths melded against each other's, and their tongues gently massaged each others.
He moaned quietly as she moved down his neck with her lips, sucking lightly. She wanted to hear that sound again, so she began to move toward the other side of his neck, eliciting more sounds from him. His hands were now going red from his struggle to run his fingers through her hair, to touch her somehow. She realized, as she kissed him, feeling the fire rise through her body from their heat and passion, that she had to get him out of there before Harry and the others found out he had lied. He was leaning his head back against the wall as she looked up at him, tilting his chin with her hand and meeting his lips again with fervor.
The question was, how would she save him?
((OOOOH….a cliffy!! Please review!!))