Chapter 5 - Monster
Disclaimer – I don't own any of the recognisable characters in this story. I only own Maria and Chantelle so far! :P
Last Chapter - "Poison…" Hermione breathed, a wave of dizziness suddenly hitting her. Lucius laughed.
"Not quite, Granger. Veritaserum, actually. A truth potion," he added, trying to goad her.
"I'm going to have to ask you a few questions."
Lucius set his elbows down on the table and leaned forward on his chair, resting his head in his hands. He looked into Hermione's staring eyes before the six words that would have made Hermione's blood run cold if she had been completely conscious.
"Questions concerning you and my son."
Even with the effects of the potion, Hermione still felt the dread creeping up on her like some kind of plague. Unable to disobey, Hermione patiently waited like a zombie for her first question. Lucius seemed to be studying her, his eyes boring deep into hers; if she had have been herself, she would have felt very uneasy. Draco just looked on like a lost puppy, seeming unsure of what to expect. This, too, would have puzzled Hermione.
"Who are your parents?" Hermione, even under the effects of the Veritaserum managed to shoot him an incredulous and puzzled look.
What has this got to do with me and Draco? Hermione was puzzled that she managed to think of other things whilst this potion was working on her. Even more puzzled that she could think of being puzzled about thinking of something else. Still, Hermione answered truthfully; what other choice did she have?
"Marie Anne Granger and Francis Gregory Granger. Dentists; both of them," Hermione added unnecessarily. Lucius raised an eyebrow.
"Hmm… just as I thought," he muttered as he turned to face Draco. "Uninformed." Draco just nodded whilst Hermione stared on blankly.
"And what do your parents look like? What are their physical features?" Lucius asked.
"My mother has long, straight blonde hair, with tinges of grey here and there. She has bright blue eyes and quite a pale complexion. My father, Francis has dark grey hair. He's beginning to go bald," Hermione said with a frown, almost remorsefully. Lucius too, frowned. There was way to much emotion in her voice possible for someone after taking a dose of Veritaserum.
"-Both are fairly tall, my father about a head or two taller than my mother-"
"Enough." Lucius silenced Hermione with a wave of his hand. The blank expression returned to cloud her features.
"May I ask you a question, Mr. Malfoy?" Hermione suddenly asked, toneless compared to how she was speaking before. Lucius's eyes widened and he span around to face her so fast that his neck cracked. A crease formed in Draco's brow as he leaned in over the table, closer, as not to miss a thing.
"I-If you wish," Lucius stuttered, stunned at Hermione's ability to ask a question.
A girl under the effects of Veritaserum… and still able to have control over what she speaks?
Lucius was truly stunned.
"What do these questions have to do with your son and I?" Hermione asked, her tone holding the slightest trace of curiousity. Obviously the Veritaserum was wearing off.
"More than they appear, Miss Granger. I think that should be enough questions for today," Lucius informed her, before turning to his son. "Draco, could you please escort Miss Granger to her new sleeping quarters? Make sure she gets everything she requires."
"Yes father," Draco said obediently, rising from his seat. Slowly, his footsteps dulled by the plush carpet, he strode around his fathers chair to the opposite side of the table where Hermione was seated.
"Stand," Draco ordered bluntly. Hermione remained seated. Lucius allowed himself a small chuckle.
"Draco, do not be so cold, she's not an animal. Could you kindly escort our guest to her new room please?" Lucius repeated. Draco could see impatience flickering in his fathers eyes. Though unhappy, Draco forced a pleasant expression over his features.
"Yes father," Draco murmured through clenched teeth, his voice strained. Draco stepped forward and gently touched Hermione's arm.
"Grang-" Lucius shot Draco a death glare. He sighed and tried again.
"Hermione." Draco forced the name from his lips as though it were venom. "Let's go. I have something to show you," Draco said, his eyes continuously flicking up to meet his fathers, checking for approval. A slight tilt of his fathers head told Draco all he needed to know. Hermione slowly rose from her chair and Draco grabbed onto her arm. As much as he would like to drag her across the room by her bushy nest of hair, he was quite certain his father would not approve of such action; especially when he seemed so sentimental.
"What do you have to show me?" Hermione asked, a dazed smile on her face. She appeared to be in a dream-like state. If Draco hadn't been holding onto her arm, he was almost certain she would be spinning around in circles of skipping merrily up the hall. Thankfully this was not the case.
"It's a surprise," Draco said as he pushed open the door and led Hermione into the hallway.
"I like surprises," Hermione stated cheerfully as Draco closed the door behind them. "Do you like surprises, Draco?" Before Draco could reply, Hermione brought up her arm and sent a stinging slap across his porcelain face. Her face lost its dreamy expression immediately and now anger clouded her chocolate brown eyes.
"How dare you?!" Hermione exclaimed. "How could you lead me into a false sense of security like that? Making me believe that everything was okay, and the all of a sudden I feel a tingle of something in my dessert and that's that?!"
Draco, as to ensure his father did not catch a word of all this, roughly grabbed hermione's arm and dragged her up the corridor. Hermione put up a struggle, though the past two days should have taught her it was no real use resisting.
"Let go of me!" Hermione shrieked, pulling back on her arms, trying to squeeze them from Draco's vice grip. Draco's other hand suddenly flew up over Hermione's mouth and he pushed her up against an old antique table in order to stop her from moving.
"Not here," Draco hissed. Hermione glared at him but kept quite as Draco removed his hand from her mouth.
"Come on. I have to show you to your bloody room," Draco said impatiently and Hermione began following him. Draco kept a hand on her arm to ensure that she didn't try to make a run for it. All the way there Draco was mumbling complaints to himself under his breath.
"How did I get myself into this crap? Order me around… and Malfoy?! … do his dirty work for him… no respect… then he does this?! …. This has gone far enough!!…."
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"You do know that talking to yourself is the first sign of insanity, don't you?" Hermione asked lightly, not bothering to face him to see his reaction. Draco didn't reply to that last comment. What could he really say?
So Draco began silently fuming to himself until he finally stopped suddenly in front of a rectangular-shaped wooden door. Draco pushed it open. The room was fairly big – definitely bigger than Hermione's bedroom at home, and around the same size as Draco's – and was filled with the same antique furniture as every other room Hermione had so far seen in this house.
Her bed was draped in deep purple linen with dark green hangings that were, at the moment, tied back. An old mat lay in front of a crackling fire, and above that on the mantelpiece, Hermione spotted a small green pot. Her heart seemed to flip in excitement.
Floo powder!
Draco, however, must have followed her gaze, for a moment later, he spoke.
"Don't even think about it, Granger," Draco said, causing Hermione's head to snap around towards him. "I ever so conveniently had one of the maids remove the floo powder from that pot over there." He pointed to the green pot and shrugged. "Sorry."
Hermione glared at him and nastily spat, " I didn't think even you would be that stupid anyway, Malfoy!"
Okay, so she did, for a fleeting moment, believe that there just might have been a stash of powder in there… but Malfoy didn't need to know that.
"Whatever Granger," Draco drawled, shoving her forcefully into the room. Hermione stumbled but managed to regain her balance by grabbing onto a wooden bed post. She glared up at Draco, who had now entered the room and closed the door behind him. Hermione hated being treated like this; like dirt. It made her feel helpless – worthless. And even though she knew she wasn't, the constant reminder that Draco did think this was beginning to rub off and she started believing it herself.
"Why don't you tell me what this is really about, Malfoy? Why I'm really here? What those questions were about? And, most recently, why you tried to poison and drug me??" Hermione asked, one hand on the bed post to steady her. Her knees felt weak, as if they were about to collapse right underneath her. She wasn't sure why, but Hermione was pretty sure it was something to do with that cold, penetrating stare Draco had constantly set on her.
"You'll find all that out in good time, Granger," Draco said, eyes still set on her as he strolled into the room and sat down on the bed. "Though I don't think you knowing is going to make you feel any better. In fact, it'll probably make you feel worse."
Hermione, who was now only a metre or so away from him shot him a perplexed look.
"To tell you the truth, I'm not too happy about it myself… not at all, in fact. If I had only known why I was to bring you here beforehand… well, let's just say it would have been much easier for you to escape," Draco told her. It seemed he was now regretting ever kidnapping her. The thought made her blood boil. Here he was complaining , when she was the one who was taken unwillingly from Hogwarts and brought into an environment she felt no comfort in at all.
"Well maybe you should have asked your father or Voldemort – or whoever it is your taking orders from these days – before you decided to kidnap me!!" Hermione exclaimed angrily.
"It's not like I had a choice, was it?" Draco yelled at her.
"Oh yes, that's right. Because Draco Malfoy always takes orders from others!" Hermione retorted sarcastically. Draco was seething, but forced calmness into his next sentence.
"Granger, you have no idea what you're talking about." His voice was strained, as if he were forcing the words out.
"Why can't you just tell me why I'm here?"
"Even if I could tell you, you probably wouldn't believe me and wouldn't be very happy anyway. So what's the point? I don't exactly need a bookworm in tears right now," Draco said nastily.
"Why, because it would be such an inconvenience to you and your perfect life?--"
Draco suddenly brought his fist down hard on the bedside table, smashing a small china cat that had been, just moments beforehand, sprawled out across it. Hermione flinched and could not suppress a gasp at this sudden and very violent action, and her heart rate began to race in fear and anxiety. Blood seeped from his clenched fist and trickled down his fingers forming a pool of it on the little table – but he appeared unaffected.
As he slowly turned his icy glare on Hermione, she knew that Draco was furious – beyond furious. Though it seemed he had taken a fair bit of his anger out on that poor cat, Hermione was still very afraid. Hermione was suddenly glad she still had quite a firm grip on the bed post, otherwise she feared she may have collapsed under his cold stare.
"No-one's perfect, Granger." It was short, to the point and filled with more fury and malice than Hermione had ever heard from Draco. He averted his gaze with a short turn of his head. He lifted his fist from the table and stretched out his fingers. The cut was only small, but deep. Not deep enough for Draco to show much emotion towards it though. An awkward silence hung in the room like an awful smell. Hermione could easily say this one was in her Top 10 Most Uncomfortable Situations – Ever.
"Are you a Death Eater?" Hermione asked him quietly, her eyes flickering over to his covered forearm. He uncomfortably shifted his arm, making sure it was completely covered and then hid it out of her sight. He then shot her a look. She tried to read it for any sign of emotion, but it was completely impassive.
"Granger, are you a Mudblood?" Draco asked her in the same tone she had used on him. "Because I'm sure you'll end up with the same answer," he added coolly. Hermione was shocked to say the least. She had thought, since about halfway through last year that he had become a Death Eater. It's what people like him become with they are of age. But to have it proven to her, to have it said right in her face – it was almost unbearable.
"You're a monster!" Hermione screamed and suddenly threw herself at him. Though taken aback and a little stunned, Draco managed to get up off the bed and reflexively clasp her wrists with his hands. Indescribable terror shook her whole body and she burst into hysterical tears. She desperately pulled back on her arms, trying with all her might to loosen Draco's grip on her. Eventually, after much struggle and resistance, Hermione gave up, falling into a sobbing heap in Draco's arms.
If Draco had been taken aback before, it was nothing compared to what he was now. After standing still for a moment, he slowly loosened his grip on her wrists and sat her down on the plush surface of the bed. Her sobbing did not cease, nor did the racking of her body. Hermione's head was buried in Draco's chest and though she was so very afraid, she felt strangely comfortable at the same time.
Draco, insisting to himself that he was doing it out of instinct, put a comforting arm around her shoulder. Another instinct told him to whisper comforting words, but Draco's mind was so scrambled at the moment that he couldn't focus on anything.
After a few moments, Hermione stopped shaking, and instead of her sobs, she was sniffing. Slowly, Hermione raised her head and gazed up at Draco, looking him directly in the eye.
"Are you going to kill me?" Hermione whispered in a voice so full of misery and sorrow, that even Draco was slightly affected with emotion.
"No."
No relief showed on Hermione's face. Instead it was a mask, hiding her emotions. She bowed her head to hide her eyes, as if she could not keep her mask on. Slowly she raised her head again, her eyes now full of despair. Fresh tears were beginning to pool in them again, and she blinked furiously, as not to let them fall.
Later on that night, Draco was not sure what made him do what he was about to. Even at that very moment, Draco was confused.
Instinct, he told himself, instinct, and he leant over and kissed her.
A/N - Sorry it took me so long to update this one. I wrote it all out on paper and never got around to typing it out!! Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!!! (only 13 minutes to go for me!!)
Marauders Gal