So, school has started, and I've already got the app that is counting down the days until next summer is here...shows how committed I am to my grades.
Before someone starts screaming at me for not updating in a month or two, I want to say my muse plot-bunny thing has been taken captive by the evil clutches of writer's block, and is suffering from creativity withdrawal. So, that said, if this chapter seems unusually bland, pray for my muse.
Disclaimer: I do NOT own the Harry Potter series!
Brown eyes. Those brown eyes that showed a broken soul behind a curtain of blood-stained brown hair, naturally beautiful skin stained permanently with mud and bruises that blossomed beneath. Those brown eyes that pleaded, called out to him. Draco. To save her. Her enemy.
He watched in horror as his Aunt raised her wand again, and Hermione's small form shivered and quaked with fear, terror convulsing her body and her throat being torn out by her hoarse screams. Sweat covering every inch of her body as she strained against the pain, fingers scraping against the stone ground, nails tearing her skin, forming long red scratches down arms and legs, knuckles bleeding.
The screaming stopped, and the figure of the girl lay limp, unmoving. Draco's breathing quickened, eyes searching for some sign of life. Her found none. Suddenly, those eyes. Those brown eyes. Covered by the sheen of death, now filled with hate and loathing and unsatiable anger. Monster. The word formed on the dead girls lips. Monster. Demon. Wicked. Cruel. Monster. Monster!
Draco awoke, shaking and shivering, the remnants of the dream still clinging to his consciousness. A curtain of hair was across his face. Hair that was not his. Long, black, silky hair. He tilted his head to the left, and came face to face with an unknown female countenance. He quickly shut his eyes. 'Please tell me I did not go out and find a prostitue and bring her back here only to have meaningless sex with her. Again. You're not a schoolboy anymore Draco! You don't even know her name!
No, no, I know her name, let me think...Ab...Abby...Abigail! That's it.'
He opened one eye, hoping against hope that the other half of his bed would be empty. When his wish was not fulfilled, he grimaced in annoyance, and pushed himself up on his elbows, re-situating himself from underneath the girl. 'Abigail' he silently reminded himself. The light hurt, and he felt a stabbing pain in his head.
Without fully opening his eyes, Draco tried to get his feet into a pair of green slippers that had been laid at the foot of his bed for him by a house-elf. After trying three times to get the shoes on the corresponding feet, and failing, his eyes snapped open in annoyance, and he yanked them on, simultaneously grabbing his robe from where it lay draped on an armchair next to his bed. He found a pair of silk pants halfway across the room, underneath a skimpy lace bra that left nothing to the imagination. He threw the vile thing on the chair, along with it's corresponding thong.
He pulled the pants on over a pair of boxers, and wrapped the robe around him, loosely tying it around his waist so just a hint of his alabaster chest was visible. Smirking at himself in the mirror, Draco carefully combed his hair back in an attempt to look more esteemed, but only accomplished a slightly more disheveled look.
Sighing, he headed into the bathroom and turned on the tap of the bath. Steady streams of water poured from the mouths of two intertwined serpents at the head of the bathtub, filling a marble bath not unlike those in the prefects bathroom, and despite its size, the tub was soon filled.
Draco shed his clothes without preamble, and stepped into the slightly steaming water. The coolness of the side of the tub startled him as he leaned back against it, but he quickly relaxed and closed his eyes, re-energizing for the day ahead.
Scuffling from the other side of the door alerted him of the waking of his companion, and he waited a few minutes as he heard her scrambling around the room to gather her things. The closing of a door let him know that he was finally alone, and the silence facing him was almost suffocating as he remembered the screams in his dream.
Piercing brown eyes, deathly pale skin contrasting with sanguine colors, pointed nails dripping with blood, screaming-Monster!
Draco's eyes shot open, shivering even though the water in the tub was still warm.
He grabbed a brush and began scrubbing at his skin violently, as if trying to rid himself of the dream's presence on his person, and did not stop until his skin had turned pink and started stinging.
He stepped out of the now cold water, and stood in front of the ceiling-floor mirror, watching the drops of water rolling of his fingertips, wishing he could as easily rid himself of the guilt.
It had been a week since he had been traded back to his aunt, and he had not visited, nor was asked to visit, the girl. The Mudblood. The precious Granger, which his aunt had deemed more important than him.
Every night of that week, that long week, he had been haunted in his dreams of her. Loathing for her, as well as himself, filled him again, as he thought more about it. He hated it. He hated her. Just one glance of her eyes, that was all it took to make him question himself. Make him think. Make him feel. Pity? Remorse? Jealousy? Hate? Resentment?
One of those unfamiliar emotions, or a great mixture of them, filled him as he thought about her.
'Hah! Emotions. I have no need for emotions. I do not feel. Emotions are weakness. There is no place for the weak in this world. I am not weak. I am not weak!' Draco bitterly thought.
He quickly dressed himself, and set off down the hallway at a brisk pace, determined to put an end to this madness once and for all.
He reached the dining area where his aunt was at the head of an oaken table, eating a plate of something that made Draco want to do something rather unflattering. He choked on his words as she looked up at him.
"Wh-" he coughed, staring anywhere in the room but at her and her 'meal', and started again. "Where is the mudblood being kept? And in what conditions? I wish to see her."
Bellatrix glared at him suspiciously. "The prisoner is none of your concern, as you obviously don't have the stomach to deal with her. Even that Order filth was better than you. Until I decide, or until you can prove your worth, she will stay locked in the cellar, and only I shall see her."
Draco felt his neck and face flush. "Prove my worth?" He hissed dangerously softly, advancing closer to his aunt, until he was standing in front of her. "Do you forget your place here, Aunt Bella? You do not control me at the Ministry, or anywhere else, especially not in my own house. This house belongs to me, and it listens to me. You do not command it. If I wished it, you would be dead in an instant, your rotting corpse in a pile of muggle filth. You forget what I can do, what I am capable of. What He, has made me. Me, not you."
His wand was drawn at this point, lingering close enough to Bellatrix's head that she had begun to grow uneasy at her nephew's unstableness.
"So, when I ask you where and how the mudblood is being kept, in my house, I expect you to answer my inquiry. Next time you do not do so will end badly for you."
Despite the threat, Bellatrix still glared, her eyes filled with unharnessed hatred.
"Very well." She spat. "But know that if you mess up again, it will be your neck, not mine, at stake."
She rose from the table and headed down the hall, towards the staircase leading down to the cellar. Draco followed, his face set in a stony scowl.
When she got to the cellar door, she produced a tiny silver key from the pocket of her dress, which she held out to Draco.
"Would you be so kind to do the honors, your majesty?" She sneered.
He took the key and unlocked the door. "Leave." He ground out.
Bellatrix tossed him a haughty glare, turned heel and stormed away. He closed the gate behind himself, and looked to the corner of the small room, where a bundle of rags indicated Hermione's sleeping form.
"Mudblood. Wake up. Now!" He kicked her arm that was sprawled across the floor, and her eyes shot open, instantly searching his face.
Draco heard a sharp intake of breath, and realized it was his own. Those eyes. Those brown eyes.
He closed and reopened his own, trying to rid himself of her stare. When he found he couldn't, he resolved to only look away at the wall.
"Stop that." He growled.
She looked confused. "What?" She whispered, her voice was hoarse from the screaming, and had been unused for days.
"Staring. At me. Like that." Sparks flew out of the end of his wand, punctuating the final thought, and Hermione shrank back, her gaze occupied by the frenzied look in his eyes.
"Please." She cried softly. "Please."
Draco snapped. "Please what, you pathetic filth! Why can't you leave me in peace? Why were you so stupid, so idiotic, to let yourself get captured, stupid girl! I was fine before you came! What are you doing to me, you bitch! You demented, twisted, pathetic excuse for witch!"
Draco's outburst seemed to spark something in Hermione, and in an instant, she transformed from the meek prisoner to the fiery girl she used to be.
"Demented? Twisted? Me! I wasn't the one kidnapping and killing and selling innocent people! I'm not the one responsible for thousands of deaths! I'm not the one who caused this war, and I'm certain as hell not doing anything to you, you sick bastard. If you're looking for someone to blame, go look in a mirror." She screamed back hoarsely, and taking a deep gasping breath, she continued before Draco could get a word in.
"If you're feeling troubled then maybe it's because you've finally realized the hell and chaos and destruction you've caused! Maybe it's because you're human, like the rest of us! A lowly human! Even lower, you're not human. You're a monster."
Monster. The word reverberated in Draco's mind and shook him to the bone. He stared back at her, his empty gaze devoid of any emotion. Without breaking eye contact, he moved until he was standing so close to her, he could feel her warm breath. He leaned down until his mouth was near her ear.
"You're right." He hissed. "I am a monster. But I'm the monster who can make your life hell for eternity, so I suggest you remember your place, mudblood."
He withdrew, and she stared evenly back at him.
"What more could you do to me? You have killed most of the people closest to me, destroyed my family, wreaked havoc to the world I knew. There is nothing you can do to hurt me."
He smirked back at her defiant face, and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. She shivered under his touch, and leaned away from him, but he grabbed her chin.
"I wouldn't be too sure about that, Princess."
With that, he released her and swept out of the room, leaving the door to swing shut behind him.
There. How bad was that? I'm hoping not too bad. Again, soooo sorry for the wait...I'll try to be better, I swear. Come winter.
So yet another chapter done. Trying to get some more action in there with Draco/Hermione. The next chapter will have more.
Review please! Reviews keep me going; I am an egotisti-bot that runs on people's criticism and ego-boosting! Reviews are love and rainbows and chocolate.
Also, I love you all who have stuck with this story despite my lazy updating, I owe you all a lot of great Dramione action...
Thanks for R&R-ing, see you next time!