Chapter 2 – With My Life
There was something tickling Ron Weasley's long, freckled nose. He twitched, trying to rid himself of the annoyance but to no avail. Whatever it was, was still there and no amount of nose twitching was going to move it.
He slowly opened his eyes and smiled sleepily when he realised what had been tickling his nose. He wasn't surprised; in fact, he should have known that it was his fiancée's unruly hair waking him up.
He pushed himself up onto his elbow and looked at the alarm clock on the bedside table. He smiled when he remembered it was Sunday and that it didn't matter what time it was. They had nothing planned; the day was their own.
He looked down at the mass of brown hair that belonged to Hermione Jean Granger, soon to be Hermione Jean Weasley.
Well, he thought, soon enough anyway.
A year wasn't too long and he had a feeling it would fly by.
She snuggled closer to him when she realised their closeness had been lost.
He smiled and pulled her to him. Her arms moved and her hand slid up his arm. He looked at the ring on her finger and smiled. He would never forget the look of happiness on her face when he had proposed. He had never felt so happy in his life.
'Wake up sleepy,' he said quietly with a smile.
He got no response from her. He chuckled.
'Hermione, wake up.'
She didn't reply but snuggled closer to him. He shifted his weight again and shuffled down so he was level with her. He leant forward and kissed her top lip lightly. He smiled when he saw her tilt her head towards him. He kissed her again, and after a few seconds, she started to kiss him back. He opened his eyes and watched as hers fluttered open. He pulled back.
'Good morning,' he mumbled before kissing her on the nose.
'Mmm, morning,' she replied sleepily. 'I think that's my favourite way of being woken up.'
'Mine too.'
'What time is it?' she asked through a yawn.
'Half eleven.'
'Really? Wow, we slept in late,' she said as she stretched her arms above her head.
He leant down and kissed her neck. She smiled and brought her arms down around him, trailing her hand through his hair. He sighed, content.
The silence was broken by Hermione's stomach rumbling. He laughed against her skin and she smiled.
'Hungry, Hermione?' he asked.
'Apparently!' she replied with a smile.
'Fancy breakfast in bed?'
'I fancy what's already in my bed!'
'Cheeky!'
She leant forward and captured his smiling mouth in another kiss, but was interrupted by another stomach rumble, this time Ron's.
They both fell back onto the bed, laughing.
'I have a feeling we're gonna be interrupted until something is done about our hunger,' Ron said, laughing.
'Yes, I think so, too.'
'So, breakfast in bed then?'
'Breakfast in bed it is.'
Hermione went to get out of bed but Ron caught the hand that was pulling the quilt off her.
'I'll do it, it was my idea after all.'
He kissed her on the nose and clambered over her, stumbling slightly when he got his foot caught in the quilt.
'Slick!' Hermione said, grinning.
'As ever!' he replied.
Hermione watched him walk out of the room and sighed contentedly. There was nothing more in the world she loved more than spending a Sunday morning in bed with Ron, the man she was going to marry. It still made her stomach squirm when she thought about them getting married, but for all the right reasons of course.
She closed her eyes and dozed, waiting for Ron to come back upstairs with their breakfast.
She loved Sundays. They didn't have to do anything special, just lying in bed watching TV, or lying in bed talking was bliss to her. She knew she was lucky, she had found someone who she loved, and he loved her in the same way. They had pledged themselves to the other, and in a year's time, that commitment would become official.
She watched as Ron walked into the room with a tray laden with breakfast food. She sat up and grinned at him.
They spent the next half hour eating, laughing, feeding each other food, and licking jam of each other's noses. (Only the first blob had been placed on Ron's nose accidentally.) When they had finished their breakfast, they watched the TV.
Hermione soon got bored of the omnibus edition of whatever Muggle programme it was and started running her hands through Ron's hair.
'You need a haircut.'
'Do I?'
'Well, I think so!'
'Well I probably do then. I'll get it done in my lunch break tomorrow.'
'I can do it!'
He turned his head to look at her and raised his eyebrows.
'You?'
He grinned in slight disbelief.
'What's wrong with me doing it?'
'Well…I dunno, I've just never thought of you as a hairdresser, although if you were people would come out with a haircut and an education!'
Hermione giggled.
'Well I'd try my best! So do you trust me?'
'With my life? Yes. With my hair…hmmm…'
'Ten more seconds of 'hmmm-ing' and I'm going to get offended!'
Ron laughed out loud. Instead of arguing the point with her, he kissed her.
She ran her hands through his hair again and gently tugged at it, exposing his neck fully to her.
'Then again,' she mumbled in between kissing her way up and down his freckled neck, 'maybe I like it this length.'
Ron grinned and rolled them both over so he was lying on top of Hermione.
'Maybe I do, too.'
'So,' she said, slightly breathless, 'does your trust in me now include your hair as well as your life?'
'Absolutely. I trust you with every part of me, I trust you implicitly with my life.'
…oooOOOooo…
'Well, well, Mister Clark, it seems like things are moving faster than I initially anticipated. You will start doing the work I want you to, tomorrow.'
Clark had been dozing on his mattress but had sat up the instant the door had banged open.
He wasn't sure how long he had been in the cell since she had sliced him open but he didn't think it was too long, a couple of days maybe. It appeared Siona had kept her word; he was, after all, still alive. But she now had a glint in her eye that unnerved him; he came to realise his time was up. No, she wasn't going to kill him, she had promised him that much, but he knew this was the last day he would have control of his mind and his body. From this day on, he became her property, nothing more than a shell of his former self.
She slowly made her way into the room and the cell door shut behind her with a loud bang.
'How are we this morning, Mister Clark?'
He smiled at her. 'Why bother with the niceties?' he asked softly. 'Is it to trick me into thinking you are done with me and are about to let me go? Because, really, I'm not that stupid, and I'd like you to remember that, if you would be so kind.'
She surveyed him, the same small smile playing on her lips and she rocked forward and backward ever so slightly. She decided not to comment on his last statement.
'Your time has come, Mister Clark. Today you will become my willing servant.'
'I think willing may be a slight overstatement,' Clark mumbled.
Again, Siona ignored his comment.
'So, do I get to find out what you're planning on doing with me. It's only polite after all!'
'You will know soon enough. May I ask you a question, Mister Clark?'
He was stunned by her apparent politeness.
'Why are you giving me a choice?'
'I do believe you have got the wrong impression of me, Mister Clark. I am not the person of pure evil you seem to think I am. I have manners and I know how to use them.'
'Manners?' Clark exclaimed. 'Oh, that's classic that is! You expect me to believe you aren't pure evil when I am here to play the part of loyal, unquestioning pawn in your plan to wreak whatever havoc and immense pain you have planned on the Wizarding world?'
He had stood up during his words and stood directly in front of her. She hadn't flinched when he had spat his words into her face.
'You are nothing but a vile, heartless bitch, and I feel nothing but pity for you, because that is all you will ever be. There is nothing you can do that will change the person you are, no matter how many words you use, no matter how many lies you tell. You will always be the same twisted, bitter-'
He never ended his sentence, as he screamed upon her actions. She had brought her wand to his chest, and a searing pain was slowly making its way along his still red scar.
She released her wand and he looked down at his chest, breathing heavily.
He saw the same black pattern and intricate markings that snaked their way down her neck along his scar.
'You…' he said, still breathing heavily. 'You branded me with your…your mark.'
'It shows you who you belong to, Clark. You're mine now, and you will be until the day you die.'
He lifted his eyes to her and glared at her, determined to be the last to blink between them. He won the battle; she looked down at the floor.
'Any last words, Mister Clark?'
'Yes. Fuck you.'
He smirked.
Her wand moved after anger had flashed through her eyes.
'Imperio!'
His eyes glazed over.
'Stand there and don't move,' she said simply.
He did as he was told; his only movements were his eyes blinking occasionally.
She closed her eyes and took a step backwards. She placed her wand over his heart and closed her eyes. She concentrated on all that she had planned, every detail ran through her mind and the tip of her wand glowed a dark red.
Clark took a shuddering breath and his head fell back, his eyes closing as it did. A few seconds passed and slowly, the light from the wand tip faded.
Clark's eyes snapped open and he righted his head. He looked at the woman before him and instantly fell to one knee, his head bowed.
'I am yours to command,' he stated simply.
'Rise,' she said in reply.
He stood, but still with his head bowed.
'You understand what you are to do?' she asked quietly.
'I do, I will not fail you.'
'I'm glad to hear it, you know the consequences if you do.'
'Yes.'
'You may leave to go and prepare yourself. You have one week. Go.'
He bowed from the waist and then stood up, his head held high. He strode past her and opened the door.
'Clark!' she said suddenly, turning around and facing the light that was flooding the dark cell.
He instantly stopped and turned to face his mistress.
'I still have my question to ask you.'
'Anything,' he replied.
'Of all the things I know about you, I don't know your first name. What is it?'
'It is Jonathan.'
She allowed a shadow of a smile cross her lips and breathed deeply.
'You may go, Jonathan. I shall see you in a week.'
Thank you for the revies for the last chapter, much appreciated. More fake cookies will be available if you review again! lol
Ta, Step ;)