It was quiet as Blaise walked the halls in Malfoy Manor. His wife had drifted into a satiated sleep, the other Deatheaters were dosing with one eye open, and the Order Members were gathered in the parlor…conversing. It was all very peaceful. Well, as peaceful as it could be with mortal enemies sharing the same roof.
As he patrolled the halls, searching for anyone, or anything out of place, he came across Draco's room. The door was ajar. Well that's not right. Blaise glanced around the hall before pushing into the room, closing the door firmly behind. Frankly he wasn't surprised at the décor of the room, but what did shock him was the absolute disarray it was in. There were books strewn everywhere, broken glass on the floor, and a general disorganization that was utterly foreign to Blaise, not to mention Draco. Even as Blaise moved through the room and into the bedroom silently, he could feel that something was different…something was off. And then he found it. The bed was empty. "Draco?" No answer. And then he saw the sketch. "Oh Draco." He chuckled darkly as he ran his fingers over the delicate lines of Hermione's back on the paper. "Oh my poor, poor Draco."
He left then, feeling no real point in staying. There was something still, something lurking, that he knew he hadn't seen the last of. Everything was in motion now, the time right, the moments ticking by, allowing him the time to sit and wait. Allowing him the precious little time he had to use what he knew, and let it lead him to the end. It was time to act. He walked the long halls back towards his room, slipped into his bed beside his unsuspecting wife, and drifted into sleep.
Before Draco truly comprehended what he was doing, his hands were gripping her arms, fingers biting into flesh. "Don't." She froze, and suddenly he regretted speaking at all. She was pulling away, leaving him…just as she always did. He dug his fingers deeper. She gazed up at him, her eyes pleading, wanting. "Don't…unless you don't want me to stop."
He felt fire then. He felt the raging, penetrating, surging inferno consume him as her hands raised once more to grace his flesh. They traced tantalizing patterns over his shoulders, fingers drifting across his collarbone, eyes alight with her own flame, holding his as he slowly slipped into madness. "Hermione…" He felt her name ghost across his lips, passing slowly in the ever-shrinking space between them. And then there was no space. He body pressed firmly against his own, soft curves driving into his rigid form. She blinked once, lashes sweeping her cheeks before dazzling him with the beauty of her eyes once more, and he was lost.
His arms wrapped around her, lips crashing dangerously with hers, demanding acceptance. His hand delved into her hair, pulling her lips harder against his own, his arm wrapped securely around her waist, crushing her small form into his body, willing her to become a part of him.
Hermione's hands moved over his arms, finally coming to rest about his neck, fingers tunneling into his hair, refusing to give ground. He relished in her touch, lived for the fire that left where their skin touched. She moaned into his mouth and he lost control. His hands moved to her waist, gripping her hips and driving her upwards, propelling her against him. Her legs opened easily, wrapping tightly about his waist, locking herself about him. He was moving now, and he found his knees knocking against something hard. It was only a fraction of a second before he realized that it was the bed, and then they were falling on it. She landed softly against the disgruntled covers, her hair splaying out around her head as their lips broke and he was allowed a moment just to gaze at her. He brought himself up on his knees, eyes never leaving hers as she lay before him. His hand moved over her leg and down her calf, lifting it at the ankle and drawing it up. Pressing his lips against her anklebone, he trailed kisses up her calf, around her knee, lifting her nightgown as his lips traveled further upwards. They dances at the line of her panties, skipping over her bellybutton as she raised her hips to allow his conquest to travel onwards.
Her nightgown now fully raised to her shoulders, he permitted his lips to each swollen breast, finally pushing the nightgown over her head and tossing it away as he at least reached her lips. Now skin on skin, her arms came around him again, hands splaying, fingers digging, across his back as their lips met in tandem, in battle, each fighting for the higher ground.
Draco didn't know when his sleeping pants were lost, didn't know when her panties lay scattered on the floor, didn't know when he'd ended up beneath her, locked under her grinding hips, slave to her every movement as her teeth bit into his lower lip and her nails gnawed into his shoulders. All he knew was that with every moment that passed between them, every singular second that allowed them to be one, he felt more desire, more anticipation, more love than he'd ever thought possible. And when they finally were still, breath intermingling as she lay spent above him, he ran his fingers across her back before pressing his lips against her shoulder, her neck, her cheek, and finally her lips. It was languid and smooth. He relished in the feeling of having all the time in the world, lived for the feeling of her flesh against his own. She was languorous in his arms, her body bending gently as he rolled, her arm resting around his shoulders as he placed his head on her chest, breathing in the sound of her heartbeat.
"Draco…" He lifted his head and stared down at her. Her hand touched his cheek. "I'm so sorry. I'm so very, very sorry." She pulled his lips down to hers, and suddenly the world disappeared again. There was an urgency now that wasn't there before. Her hands clawed at his shoulders as he knelt on the bed, her legs enclosed tightly around him. Her hips ground against his own, his arms wrapped around her, hands delving into her hair, lips crashing in a battle of teeth and tongue. There were no soft pauses, no languid moments. Now they clung to each other, desperation vibrating deep inside them. Pushing her down into the bed, Draco pinned her arms above her, lips leaving hers and devouring the soft flesh of her neck, all the while moving within her. She groaned deep in her throat, body pulsating beneath him as they rose together, their fight for dominance intensifying with every moment. His lips captured hers once more hands releasing hers to grip her hips and pull her harder against him. Her hand crept over his shoulder, nails raking over his skin, fingers gripping his neck, crushing his lips against hers. Their battle took no prisoners, left no one alive, and set a fire raging beneath their flesh, consuming them with flame. It wasn't long before they had lost themselves to their fire, and now spent, they lay entangled in each other, in the sheets, simply breathing. Hermione lay languidly beside him, her eyes piercing his as he trailed his fingers down her back. It was then that Draco Malfoy realized that now, in this moment, he was the happiest he was ever going to be. And it would never happen again.
Hermione watched Draco as he stared at his hand traveling the planes of her back. Suddenly he looked tired, worried. She moved closer, wrapping herself around him, entwining her legs with his as she draped her arm across his chest, kissing delicately over his shoulder and neck. At first he was frozen, his body rigid beneath hers. But then, slowly, his arm surrounded her and pulled her against him. She looked up at him, stared at the lines of worry etched around his eyes. She touched his face. "Sleep." He looked down at her, his silver eyes tinged with unhidden sadness. "Go to sleep." She kissed him then, her lips softly gracing his before trailing a path down his jaw and over his collarbone. "Sleep." Her voice was barely a whisper, but in moments his eyes slid closed, his breathing slowed, and he slipped into sleep. She watched him, waiting for his body to calm. Touching his cheek once more, Hermione finally rested her head on his chest and drifted herself into peaceful sleep.
It was before dawn that she woke. She slipped out of bed and moved to the window. A voice stopped her. "Are you alright?" She turned back to the bed.
"Yes, I'm fine. I just couldn't sleep." He stood and joined her.
"Are you worried?" She nodded. He wrapped his arms around her. "You don't need to be, Hermione's going to be fine. Trust me." He kissed her temple, hugging her closer.
"You don't know that Harry!" Ginny pulled away from him and began to pace. "I know you trust her, and I know you believe that she's been fighting this whole time, and I want to believe that too, its just that sometimes I can't help but wonder if we've lost her. I can't help but think that somehow she's changed, and we'll never get her back. And that scares me!"
"Ginny, you have to calm down. It's going to be all right! We're going to get her back!" Harry stopped her pacing and gripped her shoulders. "Right now she couldn't be safer. I don't think there's any place that better for her than where she is right now. Please, just trust me."
"How can you say that?" She tore away from him. "How can you say that being here, in this prison, as a Deatheater, Hermione is safe?" She was screaming now. "I don't know what you're thinking, Harry Potter, but I don't like it. Did you see her? Have you lost your mind? She's one of them, Harry! She doesn't care for us anymore." She slumped into a chair by the window and rested her chin in her hand. Harry moved to join her.
"Look, I know you don't want to believe it, and I know you don't understand, but there are things going on here that are going to help us get her back. We haven't lost her forever." He took her hand as he knelt before her. She looked at him with sad eyes. "Trust me."
There was a loud band as their door burst open. "What's going on in here?" Harry and Ginny both jumped at Ron's booming voice. They both smiled at his flustered state.
"Good morning Ron." Harry stood and walked to him. "You don't have a thing to worry about, mate. Ginny and I were just arguing. Nothing strange about that." He smiled and clapped his friend on the shoulder.
"Right." He laughed nervously as he stared around the room. He glared back at harry accusingly. "You're room is bigger than mine." Harry looked at Ginny and before they could stop themselves they burst into laughter, and infectious as it was, eventually Ron was laughing as well.
"I wouldn't think too much on it, Ron." He glanced at the clock. "The Summit is going to reconvene in a few hours. Why don't we get dressed and meet in the main parlor downstairs?" Ginny nodded followed slowly by Ron. "Good. Maybe we can finish this today." He smiled woefully as he moved towards his trunk.
"Right, I'll see you in a while." Ron left quietly, letting the door close silently behind him. Ginny moved into their lavatory and began to get ready. Harry braced his hands on the trunk's edge as he thought. This is going to take a while.
Draco woke and opened his eyes slowly. There was an unfamiliar weight on his chest, not to mention the fact that he was not in his own bedroom. He started to move and the body draped across him tightened its arms and spoke. "Don't leave yet." He knew that voice. "I don't want you to leave." He turned onto his side, turning into her embrace. Her eyes were closed, lips slightly parted as she breathed, in and out. He traced her cheek with his fingers, pressed his lips to hers, refusing to relinquish this moment.
"How could I ever leave you?" She opened her eyes then, staring up into his. Flesh against flesh, they lay there, staring at one another. Draco didn't know how long they lay there, together, but then the loud crack of apparation snapped him back to reality.
"Master Draco, both parties have reconvened in the ballroom and are awaiting you. Shall I have tea and scones prepared?" The small house elf spoke so softly at first he thought he hadn't heard her at all.
"Yes, tea and scones for our guests. Please inform them that Lord and Lady Malfoy will join them shortly." He never stopped staring at her as he spoke.
"Yes, Master." There was another loud crack and she was gone. Draco watched as the fire died in Hermione's eyes.
"Don't." He gripped the nape of her neck, pulling her in, locking his eyes with hers. "Don't shut me out. Don't close yourself off from me again." Her eyes slid shut and tears began to form. He felt his voice choking. "Look at me, please, just look at me." He moved in then, cupping her face in his hands, drawing her to him. "Please, look at me." She opened her eyes, lips parting in a strained sigh. What he saw in her eyes scared him. Her vulnerability, her tenderness, and fragility all were blatantly displayed before him. He kissed her then, harsh and bruising, teeth biting into her lip as she welcomed him, yielding to his strength. Wrapping her in his arms, he drew her against him, waiting for her to calm. Her arms encircled him, and then the tears came. She cried silently against his chest, her tears sliding down her cheeks and onto his skin. He didn't know how long she cried, he didn't know when he started to cry, but when she had finally quieted, he felt her lips press against his chest, felt them moved up his neck until they met his own. This kiss was gentle and warm, and suddenly the world didn't matter.
Moments later Hermione pulled away from him and left the bed. She pulled on her robe before moving to her closet. Draco lay sprawled on her bed, and watched as she went about getting ready. He watched as she moved from lavatory to closet, disappearing into the lavatory to bathe, then into the closet to dress, finally to the dressing table to do her hair and make-up. He found himself fascinated by her simple morning routine, and when she sat at her dressing table, brush poised above her cheek, he found himself standing, wrapping himself in the sheet, and moving to stand behind her. She looked up at him through the mirror, and breathed deeply. He bent quietly, picking up the jewelry she had lain out and bringing it up around her neck, fastening it gently. She cleared her throat softly. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." He kissed her neck, her shoulder, fingers trailing over he top of her Mark. She shuddered at the touch, her flesh tingling at his touch. "You look beautiful." He watched her smile nervously before moving away and into her lavatory. "You don't mind, do you?" He smirked at her as she shook her head and went in for a shower.
As the door closed behind him, Hermione breathed out heavily. She stood and paced at the foot of her bed. She found her nightgown there, carelessly tossed to the ground. Close to it were was could only have been Draco's pants. She picked both up and laid them on the bed. It was then that the door to her lavatory opened and Draco sauntered out in a towel. Water dripped from his hair and beaded over his chest and arms. She felt her breath leave at the sight of him. He smirked at her reaction.
"I know I'm gorgeous, but I would think that my own wife would have at least grown immune to my half-naked appearance." There was a smile at the end of his words. Suddenly Hermione was filled with something she hadn't felt in years.
"Oh you think you're gorgeous?" She stalked towards him. "Well I have news for you." She reached him and let her finger slide down his chest as she forced him backwards. When he had nowhere to go, she flicked her tongue of his lips. "I've seen gorgeous, and you Draco Malfoy, are anything but." She grinned against his lips as he began to protest, silencing him with a harsh kiss. "In my opinion," she muttered as she moved away from him, "is that you're downright fuckable." She smiled devilishly before tearing out of her bedroom and into the living area of her suite. He was hot on her heals, reaching for her as he chased her around her suite. For the first time in over a year, Hermione found herself giggling. However, all that stopped when he finally did catch her, pressing her against the table at the back of the sofa, he gripped her hips hard, forcing her up onto the table, legs opening as his lips claimed hers. Her fingers delved into his hair, legs locking around him as he pulled her dress upwards. They were interrupted, however, by the crack of an apparating house elf.
"Sorry to disturb Master, but your guests are getting rather impatient. They have asked for you several times now. Shall I prepare more tea?"
Draco sighed against Hermione's lips. He turned to the house elf. "Yes, prepare more tea. We will be down momentarily." His voice was a growl.
"Yes Master." With a crack, she was gone.
"We should probably head down." Her voice was soft. He nodded.
"You're right." He didn't move. "That doesn't mean I Have to be happy about it." He moved away and helped her off the table. "I just have to get dressed." He walked back into her bedroom and Hermione quickly followed behind.
"Unless you're planning on wearing a dress, I don't think you'll find any clothes that will fit you in here." She leaned against the doorframe and watched him.
"I think you will find this especially interesting." He held out his hand. "Follow me." Hesitantly, Hermione slipped her hand into his and followed.
He pulled back the portrait of the lady in white in the forest and found the rippling portal into his bedroom. Without further hesitation, he stepped in, drawing Hermione with him.
Ron was fuming in his seat in the ballroom. Everyone was here, everyone was seated, everyone was waiting. All they needed now was Malfoy…both of them. He glared at the main doors, but they didn't open. He could tell even the Deatheaters were getting anxious. "This is ridiculous." Harry turned to him. "If Malfoy was serious about this Summit he would be here on time." Ron was barking out the words. "And so would she."
"Ron I'm sure there's a good reason that they're late. Just be patient." Harry turned to Ginny and started talking in hushed tones about something. Ron grunted and resumed his glaring. This was when the doors opened and they walked in.
"It's about bloody time!"
"Ron!" He shrugged at Harry and shut up.
"I'm sorry about the delay, there was an urgent matter on the grounds that required out attention." They sat and Malfoy looked at Harry. "Let us begin." She took his hand. Ron couldn't believe his eyes. She was holding his hand under the table! He gripped the arms of his chair, watched his knuckles turning white with his anger. He didn't hear any of the words they were speaking, didn't see any of the papers they were passing, all that consumed him was the rage, the fire that burned within him to strike down Malfoy where he sat. He turned his eyes to her. She was looking right at him. He held her gaze for a moment before she turned away, listening to something Harry was saying. And then Harry was speaking to him and he pulled out of his reverie.
"What?" He was glaring at Harry now, and he never meant to do that.
"I want your opinion Ron. You are a part of this treaty, and we need your input." Harry was handing him something now. He placed it on the table and read. It was the treaty. Did I really miss all of this? He read quickly, trying to find parts that he didn't agree with. He soon found he didn't agree with any of it.
"Harry, do you realize that this treaty gives them the ability to reopen Hogwarts, as a school of Dark Magic? Do you know what this means for us?" Harry looked at him pleadingly. He kept reading. He found that it also gave them the ability to open their own school. Well that made sense. Why not have a school of Light and a school of Dark? Then he read further down. "This gives them Bellatrix back!" It was both a question and a statement. "Are you insane?" He felt his anger building again. "I'm sorry Harry, but there's a reason why we're fighting them, and this is it. There's no way I'm signing that. There's no way I'll follow that." He looked his friend in the eye. "And if you sign it, there's no way I'll follow you." Ginny made some kind of noise. Harry just kept looking at him.
"Keep reading Ron." So he did. He saw that there were major benefits for the Light. But they came with serious prices. Some things would take years to put into place, and by then, they would have lost everything. At the bottom of the treaty, there was one clause that read as some kind of security measure. In the event that the Dark attacked or crossed borders they should not, not only would this treaty be null and void, but there would never be another treaty. All ties to any treaty made previously would be abolished. Hermione could come home. He looked at Harry.
"That's a big risk to take." Harry nodded. Ron shook his head. "I hope you know what you're doing." He handed the treaty back. "But I'm still not signing it." Harry stared at him for a moment, then nodded again. He turned back to the assembly.
"Have we all reviewed the treaty?" Everyone nodded. "Very well. As the leader of the Light, and overseer of this Summit, I, Harry James Potter, hereby declare this treaty active upon the signature of the members of the Order, the Deatheaters, myself, and the Lord Voldemort." Ron watched in horror as his friend drew a feather quill from his robe and began to sign his name.
"You can't be serious Harry!" Ron stood, outraged. Harry finished signing and passed it to Ginny. "Ginny! Don't sign that!"
"Do you want peace Ron?" He looked back to Harry. "This treaty gives us that. I'm tired of looking over my shoulder all the time, I'm tired of being scared for my wife, for my family! I am not going to fight with you over this, Ron. If you don't want to sign it, then I'm not going to force you. Just know that on our return to London you will be banished from the Order and asked to leave. Do you understand that?" Ron sunk back into his chair, defeated.
The room was silent. Ron stared at his best friend, he stared at his sister, his brothers, the rest of the Order, and realized that he was alone. Before he could speak, he saw Hermione out of the corner of his eye lean into Malfoy and whisper something. Then he stood. "Potter, I wonder if my wife and I might have a word with you in private?" Harry nodded.
"Of course." He stood. "If you'll excuse me." He walked around the table and followed the Malfoys out of the ballroom and into the hallway beyond. Suddenly, the world seemed very, very small.
"What's this about Malfoy?" Hermione watched Harry leaning against the table in the hall. She looked at her husband. He nodded. She breathed in a deep breath.
"Ron must sign the treaty, Harry." Suddenly he was staring at her. She began to pace. "He's your friend, surely there is some way you can convince him to sign it." He was still staring at her.
"Why do you want him to sign it?" His voice was hesitant, as if he couldn't trust the words. She looked back to Draco.
"We want him to sign it because he's an Order member. Once you expel him from the Order, there isn't much he won't do to incite us to go against the treaty. He may only be one man, but he's still a wizard, he can still cause a lot of damage. If he doesn't sign the treaty, it won't be long before any hope of peace between Light and Dark is eliminated forever." Draco's voice was calm. Hermione stood beside him.
"I don't want this war to go on any longer Harry. We want peace just as much as you do." She felt him soften at her tone. Then he spoke.
"Malfoy would you mind letting me speak with your wife, alone?" Draco looked down at her. She nodded. He kissed her cheek before returning to the ballroom. Hermione stared at Harry.
"What do you wish to talk about?" She kept her voice cold, collected, calculated. He started towards her.
"Hermione, what's going on here?" He took her hands, gripped them hard. She wrenched them free.
"Don't touch me." She moved away. There was something building in her. "What do you really want to ask me, Harry?"
He crossed his arms and spoke. "I want to know what happened to you."
"Nothing happened to me Harry." She raised her chin. "The night I was taken before the Dark Lord he made me a Deatheater. After a few days living in Draco's suite at Hogwarts, I was brought here. Since then I have served my Dark Lord in every way. When I was told I was to marry Draco, I gladly accepted my new position. It was an honor to marry into the Malfoy family, and it is an honor to be the Dark Lord's trusted advisor." She watched the terror dawn on his face, watched comprehension of what she had become tear at his senses. She moved towards him, forcing him backwards. "I am proud of what I have become, Harry, and I will continue to serve my Dark Lord until my wand is pried from the hands of my corpse and broken." She stopped moving. "You may believe what you wish, you may believe that horrid things have happened to me. The truth, Harry, is that I love my husband, I love my home, and I love my Dark Lord with all of my heart." She turned away from his horrified face and returned to the ballroom, letting the door close firmly behind her. As she returned to her seat, she heard the door open again and Harry return. As he sat, he turned to Ron and whispered something to him before turning back to face Draco. Ron looked at Harry for a few moments before speaking.
"I will sign the treaty." Ginny passed him the parchment and quill. Just before he signed Harry stopped him.
"Wait." He stared directly at Hermione. "Lord Malfoy, I believe a Deatheater should sign first, as a sign of good faith." He slid the treaty across the table. Lady Malfoy, will you please sign?" He passed the quill over. Hermione took the quill without second thought and signed her name beneath his. It was written in blood. She passed to Draco who signed beneath her name and then passed it back to Harry. It went on like this until everyone had signed, including Ron. Slowly, after the treaty had been signed, the Deatheaters and Order members left the Manor. Draco and Hermione stood in the foyer and said goodbye to their guests. The last to leave were Harry, Ginny, and Ron.
"Mr. Potter, thank you for coming." Harry took Draco's hand and shook firmly. It was a strange gesture.
"Thank you Lord Malfoy, for granting us your home." He stepped away and Ginny stepped in. It was bittersweet to watch them all go.
"Hermione, I wish we could have talked more." Ginny hugged her. It was odd not to know how to react to it. Slowly, Hermione placed her hands on her shoulders and hugged quietly back. "We all miss you. I just wish you could come back to us." She pulled away.
"Thank you Ginny. It was lovely to see you again." She smiled softly before letting her go. She stepped away with Harry, leaving Ron.
"You know I still hate you Malfoy, more so even now." He stepped closer, then looked directly at Hermione. "I thought we were happy once. I thought I loved you once. Now I know better. Now I know I hate you, you and everything you've become." She felt the tears brimming, looked away.
"Don't speak to her like that, Weasley. I won't tell you again." Draco placed his arm around her waist, grounding her.
"What exactly are you going to do about it, Malfoy? Steal another wife from me?" He moved even closer. "You've taken everything from me, what else can you possibly do?"
"I'm asking you kindly to please leave. Our meeting is over."
Ron nodded on began to turn away. "Fine." Hermione was beginning to breathe again when Ron wheeled around, his fist flying into Draco's jaw. The loud crack echoed through the room. Draco reeled backwards and Ron followed. Only the tip of a wand thrusting into his throat stopped him where he stood.
"Don't move." Hermione stood between Ron and her husband, anger blazing in her eyes. Ron stared at her, tears forming. "Threaten my husband again, and I'll kill you, treaty be damned." He stepped back, dropping his hands to his sides. She kept her wand pointed at his chest.
"Hermione, please." His voice was broken, pleading. "Please come back." He choked on a sob. "Please come home with us."
Draco stood petrified by the scene before him. He rubbed his jaw, feeling the bruise beginning to form. He watched as Hermione lowered her wand and stared at Weasley, watched as she moved towards him. "Hermione." He didn't notice he'd spoken. She stopped and looked back at him, looked back to Weasley, touched his cheek. She pressed her lips to his softly, then stepped away.
"I loved you once Ron. I'm sorry you can't understand." She backed away quickly then, moving towards Draco, turning to him, looking up at him with sad eyes. "My place is with my husband." She looked back at Weasley. "I am home."
Draco watched the horrified look draw on Weasley's features, his face contorting first with horror, then rage, and finally grief. "I hope you're happy then." With those final words he left the Manor, Harry and the Weaslette following close behind. He breathed in deeply and found himself turning to face his wife. It was then that he noticed the sadness in her eyes. It was then that he felt something in his heart shift, and it was then that he knew. He took her hand.
"Come with me." He led her silently through the Manor and out onto the terrace. They walked around the fountains and through the roses, past the maze and through the edge of the forest. She followed him as they walked the small path through the trees, weaving around deeper and deeper into the woods.
"Where are you taking me?" She was hesitant now; he slowed and turned to her.
"Trust me." He moved forward again, and she followed quietly, each step falling heavier than the last. "It's just up here." They rounded the last grouping of trees and emerged into a small clearing. He let go of her hand and stepped aside, letting her wander on her own. The area was not natural, nor was it entirely forged by man. It was a perfect circle, covered in grass that never seemed to whither. In the center was a gazebo, white in the shining light. There were small flowers dotting the edges of the small construction, vines of the same flowers grew over the walls and onto the roofing. Draco watched as Hermione looked up into the sky, searching for the sun. "The forest is too thick here for the sun to get through. The light is magical." He moved toward her, drawing her around the gazebo and into it as he moved. "This was built by my great, great grandfather for my great, great grandmother. He built it for her before they were married and it is where he proposed." He pulled her to him, cupping her face in his hands, eyes staring deep into hers. "I want you to know, no matter what, that this place will always be yours." It was then that she smiled. He smiled even as he felt the tears slide down his cheeks. He inhaled. "I love you. Merlin, I love you so much." His lips crashed to hers, and suddenly he didn't care that he was crying, he didn't care that their lives would never be happy and simple. All he did care about was the woman in his arms, all he cared about was keeping her safe, and loving her in any way she asked.
"Blaise is here to see you, My Lord." Fenrir stood beside the throne, voice quieted beside his Lord's ear. "And he brings a gift that you will find very pleasing." He pulled away, stepping down from the throne and taking his place among the others. The Dark Lord beckoned weakly with his hand.
"Mr. Zabini, please come forward and present your gift." There was movement amid the Deatheaters as they parted to allow Blaise to move forward. He came before the Dark Lord, but he did not come alone. "I did not give you permission to stand before me. Get back!"
"My Lord, this is my gift to you." He turned to face the hooded figure and nodded. A feminine hand drew up and pulled the hood from her face. At the sight of her, a loud murmur ran through the assembly.
"Bellatrix Lestrange. How wonderful to see you again." The Dark Lord's voice was dripping with sarcasm. "Weren't you imprisoned in Azkaban?" His tone turned sour.
"Yes My Lord, but in light of the recent treaty I have been released." She smiled cruelly and moved closer. "I have returned to you My Lord. I have returned to take my rightful place beside you." She was moving closer, asserting her dominance over the other Deatheaters with her boldness, a boldness that had since only been shown by one other.
"Bellatrix you will stop this instant!" The Dark Lord stood heavily. "Your insanity has caused me enough trouble, trouble which of late has been absent in this court!" He pointed to the Throne on his left. "You are no longer fit to reside beside me, to recline in this chair! You have lost your privileges, and along with it my respect!" Bellatrix shrunk away from him, her mewling sounds echoing over the hushed crowd.
"But My Lord—"
"Enough! I have tolerated your madness long enough." He turned back into his throne, exhaling blissfully as he reclined. "You are removed from your place of honor here. You may rejoin the others." He sighed and rested his head in his hand. Bellatrix backed into the crowd and disappeared.
"My Lord, I thought she might please you. Please, forgive my ignorance." Blaise kneeled before the Dark Lord, bowing his head before his Master.
"Ignorance is no excuse." He was calm now, his voice monotone and soft. "I forgive you, Blaise. You can redeem yourself in only one way, however. Bring me Hermione Malfoy, there is much for us to discuss."
Blaise grinned as he spoke. "With pleasure, My Lord."
There was a cool breeze drifting over her shoulders when she woke. As she opened her eyes, she found herself curled into Draco's arms, her head resting softly on his chest. Shifting slightly, Hermione regarded her surroundings. They were still in the gazebo in the clearing, the soft light still dancing around them. She smiled as she remembered Draco's declaration, at his actions as they sat in the gazebo, just holding one another. They were currently on the floor of the gazebo, the blankets Draco had conjured tangled around them. Turning her gaze back, Hermione watched him as he breathed, his face calm and serene. Hermione let her fingers trace over the lines of his features, delicately touching his cheeks, his nose, his brow, his jaw, his lips. His eyes fluttered open, lips parting with his breath. He smiled. "Hello, love." She smiled back.
"Hello." She leaned in a pressed her lips to his, molding herself gently into his arms. He pulled her close and deepened the kiss, arms entwining tighter around her, body pressing into hers.
"I do hope I'm not interrupting." Hermione stiffened in Draco's arms, the voice sending chills down her spine. She slowly pulled back from Draco, turning her face down. Draco looked toward the voice as he stood, offering his hand to her as she too began to stand.
"Blaise, what are you doing here?" As Hermione stood Blaise moved into the gazebo, invading her sanctuary. "I thought you weren't going to come over until tomorrow, for dinner?" Draco's arm wrapped around Hermione's waist and she was grateful for the comfort it granted her.
"I'm actually here for Hermione." His gaze turned pointedly on her. Hermione flinched into Draco. "The Dark Lord wishes to speak with her."
Draco inhaled deeply before he spoke. "Alright, we shall attend on him promptly. When does he wish for us to arrive?"
"You mistake me Draco. The Dark Lord wishes to speak with Hermione, alone. You are not to accompany her." He offered his hand to Hermione. "And he wishes it now." Hermione looked up at Draco and back to Blaise. She breathed deep before speaking.
"If you will wait in the parlor Blaise, I shall just freshen up and meet you there." She watched as his hand slowly retracted and a look of defeat drew on his features. An inner smirk played in her mind as he nodded and left. Hermione turned back to Draco. "Will you be alright?" He chuckled.
"You should not be asking me that. I should be asking you." He cupped her cheeks. "Will you be alright?" She nodded.
"He is my Lord, I'm sure I have done nothing to offend him, and therefore this can only be a good thing." She turned into his palms, rubbing her cheek over his hand. "I'll be home soon." Pressing a kiss into his hand she turned to leave, only to be grabbed at the nape of her neck and spun back, his lips crashing into hers.
"You better be back." His voice was a ghost of a whisper across her lips, breath intermingling with hers. She touched his cheek with her fingers.
"I love you." She kissed him gently. "I love you more than I ever thought I would." She kissed him again. "I promise to be back soon." With one final kiss she swept away, walking briskly down the path and into the woods.
The room was dark, and quiet. The Deatheaters around them were silent in their anticipation. She kneeled before the Dark Lord. "You called for my, My Lord?" Raising her eyes to meet his, she challenged him. "What is your will?" A soft murmur whispered through the crowd.
"Darling Hermione, please stand." The Dark Lord offered his hand to her. She stared at it hesitantly, but as she rose, Hermione let her hand slip into his. The jolt of sheer power that soared through her veins made her shiver. "I would like to bestow upon you an honor, the highest I can bestow." He wavered as he stood, but Hermione's hand in his stabled him as he moved. "The time is coming for us to stand, for us to fight once more. The age of Light is fading, and once that light has been extinguished we shall rise above the ashes and take what is rightfully ours." He looked into Hermione's eyes, hand gripping hers harder, back straightening before he spoke. "And we shall fight. We shall fight with a great leader, a powerful leader," he smiled at Hermione, "a leader we can all be proud to follow, a leader of my design." He looked out over the gathered Deatheaters. "May I present our savior, Lady Hermione Malfoy." The crowd erupted, with raucous murmurs and whispers. Lord Voldemort led Hermione up to the throne, seating her on his right side, her hand remaining in his as he looked out over the Deatheaters. Hermione was speechless, but her mind was racing. "Silence." The Dark Lord raised his hand and the Great Hall of Hogwarts quieted. "From this point on, you shall follow her orders as if they were my own. Under no circumstances are her demands to be brought into questions, is that understood?"
"Yes, My Lord!" The Deatheaters spoke in unison, their voices magnifying in the Great Hall.
"Dismissed." The Deatheaters bowed before their Dark Lord before exiting the Hall to attend to their duties. Lord Voldemort turned to Hermione. "You and Draco must return to Hogwarts. I have prepared the Tower for your arrival. It has been arranged so as to accommodate you and Draco for some time. I have already dispatched an owl to Malfoy Manor summoning him. He should arrive before nightfall." His hand tightened on hers, eyes boring into hers. "I must bare a deepest secret to you Hermione, one that could ruin me should anyone but you know."
"My Lord, I would be honored to carry such a secret." She placed her free hand atop his, reassuring, comforting, and smiled.
"I am dying Hermione." Her smile faded. "My body is failing, and there is no magic in this world that can save me." He turned away from her, leaning heavily into his throne. "Eventually this body will no longer be able to contain my magic, it will break down slowly. It has already begun." His head snapped towards hers, eyes piercing. "My last action on this earth will be to tutor you, as I once did Bellatrix before she lost what little was left of her mind. I will pass on what I can of mine to you, so that at least in some part, I can be present for the downfall of Harry Potter." His eyes drifted closed, his body relaxing into the throne. "I had hoped that I would be the one to end his life, but I see now that I will not survive long enough to do so." His eyes opened in a heartbeat, staring into her own, holding her with his will. "The charge falls to you, my darling Hermione. It will be my last will that you kill Harry Potter, and eliminate the threat of the Light once and for all. It is my hope that some day, and that will be a day very soon that you shall reside in this throne, with Draco proudly by your side." He inhaled deeply, his chest rising and falling heavily with his breath. "You are destined for greatness my dear, a greatness I can only hope to inspire."
Draco swept into his study to find an owl waiting for him on his desk. It was from the Dark Lord. He felt himself draw a weighty breath as he took the small envelope from the owl's beak. Opening it he saw the elegant script of his mother. It was simple, asked after his health and how the Summit had gone, but that was all in just the first few sentences. As he read he realized he was being summoned the Hogwarts, not only by his mother, but also by the Dark Lord Himself. He inhaled before tearing out of his study and through the Manor to pack his things. There was one stop he had to make before he left for Hogwarts.
Hermione found herself standing in a very familiar place. The frightened Fat Lady had swung open for her slowly when she arrived. She down stood in what originally was the commonroom for Gryffindor Tower. The Tower now looked very much like the Manor, all silvers and black. The shades varied, but the design was all the same. The furnishings were all dark, dark green sofas, stained tables. She moved up the stairs and towards the girl's dorm. When she opened the door she found an almost identical replica of her suite at the Manor. Everything was white and soft. The sitting room was full of books, a fire crackling before the white sofa. There were three doors, each on one side of the room. One led to her bedroom, one to the bathroom, and one to a study. There were even more books in the study, each and every one of them pertaining to Dark Magic. Moving back to her bedroom she opened the bay doors that led out onto a new addition to the Tower. It was a balcony that swept around the tower, the section before her room opened onto a wider terrace-like space where a chaise was placed. She moved towards it, allowing herself to recline against it, watching the sunset over the Black Lake.
"I hope you like your suite." Her head snapped around and found Narcissa standing in the doorway. She smiled warmly as she moved closer. "I made sure it was as close to the one at the Manor as possible, but I couldn't do everything."
"I love it Narcissa, really. Thank you so much for everything." Hermione smiled back at Narcissa, but she knew it wasn't full,
"What's troubling you? I heard about the honor the Dark Lord has given you, is there something wrong with his decision?" She moved to sit on the edge of the chaise.
"No, I'm very happy to be so honored by Him. I just wish I had more time." Hermione looked away from Narcissa and out to the Black Lake.
"More time? I don't understand."
Hermione smiled softly before speaking. "It's nothing, I promise you." Smiling once more she turned her attention back to the sunset and the Black Lake. "You should be pleased, Draco will be arriving soon."
"Yes, I am glad. I was asked to write the letter that summoned him. I will be very happy to see my son again." She inhaled deeply. "I just wish it were under different circumstances."
"How do you mean?"
"Well I left the Manor to give you and Draco privacy, so that the two of you could get to know one another, begin to understand each other, but it seems that the two of you will always be separate, be different." She sighed. "I had hoped that you would help him become the great man I know he can be, but he hasn't changed at all. He's a very strong man, a very good man, but I fear that his weakness, his own fears, hold him back from doing what he should, from standing apart from the others around him. I fear that one day he will whither away, as I have, and there will be nothing left for him to fight for, to stand for." She touched Hermione's cheek. "He needs you Hermione, more than he knows, more than you know. You're the only one who can save him."
Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Narcissa stood and left her in silence and isolated. She felt tears hiding behind her eyes, stinging, prying, to fall down her cheeks. She refused them, forcing them back, hiding from them as they hid from her.
The bottle of Firewhiskey in his hand did nothing to dull the pain he felt in his heart. The bruises on his face bore into him as they throbbed, but still he felt everything in his heart too strongly. Ronald Weasley was currently slumped in an armchair before the fire in the parlor at Grimmauld Place. Harry was standing in the doorway, watching him as he drank, his eyes staring off into the fire as each sip burned down his throat.
"Harry I'm worried about him. He's going to drink himself to death." Ginny touched Harry's arm, pulling him into the hall as she spoke.
"I know, but he won't listen to me, he won't listen to anyone." Harry glanced up at the door as a knock sounded lightly. "I wonder who that is…" He moved to the door and opened it cautiously. What he found on the doorstep shocked him to his core.
"Hello Potter, we need to talk." Draco Malfoy pushed past him and into the hall, sweeping past the speechless Ginny and into the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of tea and sitting himself down at the table, waiting for Harry to join him. Before that happened, Ginny regained her ability to move, let alone speak, and had her wand out and upon him before he could take the first sip of tea. He looked up at her incredulously. "Do you mind? I would like to drink my tea."
"What the fuck are you doing in our house? How the fuck did you find it?" Her eyes were blazing as she screeched at him. He took a sip of his tea and pushed her wand slowly away from his face.
"I'm actually surprised your husband didn't tell you about our little chat. But that is neither here nor there. We need to discuss some very important matters that are going to have to take priority over you, or your brother for that matter, trying to kill me for my past transgressions." He took another sip of his tea before setting the teacup and saucer down on the table. "Harry, if you wouldn't mind joining us in the kitchen, maybe explaining a few things to your wife? I would like to get back to my wife alive, if at all possible." He smiled innocently at Ginny before taking to his tea again. This is when Harry walked in.
"Draco, what are you doing here? I thought we weren't going to meet again until after the New Year?" He crossed his arms defensively as he spoke, glaring at Ginny as he did so.
"Yes, that was the plan. Unfortunately, I've had to move our plans up a bit. The Dark Lord is moving up his, and the time for us to act is drawing close." His eyes bore into Harry's. "He's summoned Hermione and I to Hogwarts…permanently." Harry's whole demeanor changed.
"Ginny, go sober up your brother and get him in here. Summon the Order and be quick about it. We have a lot of work to do."
"But Harry, aren't you going to explain—"
"Yes, I will explain everything. I just find it easier to tell everyone at the same time rather than tell one person after another. Please, hurry. There should be a few potions in the medicine cabinet that will help with Ron." He took a seat across from Draco. "Tell me everything."
Author's Note:
Hey everyone! Sorry it's taken me so long to get this latest chapter up. It's titled 'outcast' because of the choice Hermione makes, about her friends that she leaves behind, and how at the end she becomes the Dark Lord's right hand and is then 'outcast' within the group she chose over her own friends. So, she's not only an outcast in the world she was once part of, but she's an outcast within the Deatheaters. My question to you, oh faithful readers and reviewers is: In your opinion, how did Hermione get to be the way she is, and how has she come so far within the Deatheaters and with the Dark Lord, and yet fallen so far from the Light and into the hands of the Dark? I appreciate all opinions, be they good or bad, and I love reading what you all think! Please review or send me a message with your opinion, I can't wait to read them all!
-The Crimson Sheath