Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. J. K. Rowling does.
Warning: I do believe my story might end up being a wee bit dark.
A/N: I'm on a roll, kind of. I hope you like it! Review. Again, thank you for reading my story.
Chapter Fifteen
Blaise was beyond frustrated. He had broken his glasses in anger and was now forced to squint in order to properly read. How hated feeling useless. Hours and hours had passed, but he still couldn't find a solution.
He gave a small, annoyed sigh as he looked around the room and took notice of all the crumpled parchments decorating the polished floor. A few remnant pieces of broken glass were also scattered about the room. His gaze momentarily lingered on his blond friend, a grim frown plastered on his face.
Draco was sitting in a chair; the weight of the world appeared to be on his slouched shoulders. Despite his stooped form, and dull eyes, an aura of danger surrounded him.
The blue-eyed wizard gave him an empathetic look. He knew it couldn't be easy for Draco to have to read the vivid details of his parents' murder.
Draco closed his eyes as dark memories resurfaced. How he wished he could forget. It didn't matter that years had passed. Dwelling in the past always made him feel uncomfortable. He hated that he was once weak and vulnerable.
Blaise could feel his already existing headache gain momentum. He had been so hungry for the last few months, yet he always felt too tired to properly eat. Now that his strange sickness had been cured, leaving no evidence of his previous exhaustion, he had barely eaten anything.
He chose to currently neglect his need for food, instead using the valuable time to come up with a possible solution to silence the witch that was threatening to reveal Draco's past. He resumed squinting at the newest document he currently held in his hand, a plan finally forming in his mind. He smiled at his own ingenuity.
How had he not thought about this before?
He was about to triumphantly share his plan with his stoic companion when he noticed that Draco had abruptly stood up. His shoulders were rigid and his usually cold, grey eyes were filled with something that Blaise couldn't quite place.
. . .
"Damn," Draco snarled, as he felt her fear intensify. He took a deep breath and then scowled darkly, feeling a thump of panic starting to expand in his chest. He stood very still, forcing his strange emotions under control. All of his unpleasant memories vanished. Now his mind was filled with extreme worry.
What the hell had the mudblood gotten herself into this time?
"What is it?" questioned Blaise, flabbergasted by his random outburst.
Draco turned his head and impassively looked over at his companion, noting the alarm in his eyes.
Blaise noticed that Draco's features had gone back to hiding emotion, his face was once again a mask of detachment, completely unreadable.
"I forgot something," cryptically answered the blond wizard, hastily moving farther away towards the door.
. . .
Hermione broke out in a sweat as she fell to her knees. An unexpected pain started blossoming in the back of her head. She felt something wet trickle down her neck. Wincing, she gingerly touched the back of her head and gasped as she stared at the blue tinted blood smeared across her fingertips.
Resolutely she attempted to get up, ignoring how her blurry vision began to swim with colors.
"This one has heart," said a harsh voice, directly behind the brunette witch.
"Maybe she'll be fun, Lance," replied a second voice.
Hermione turned and focused her unsteady eyes on the man referred to as 'Lance'.
He was of average height, overweight, and not handsome at all. His face was terribly scarred; it seemed as if someone had crudely tried to slice his face in half. The thick scar tissue started at his hairline, went down the bridge of his thin nose, across his lips, and ended at his cheek. It disfigured his face into a permanent smirk. His eyes were green and narrowed.
He had something in his hand that was glinting with the rays of the sun.
The other man was only a little farther away and had unkempt auburn hair. He had a ring in his right nostril and another ring going through his left eyebrow. He made a face when her large eyes locked on his.
Hermione recognized them both. She had seen them hanging out with other bikers around the apartment building. She avoided running into them because she had heard that they were dangerous. The place she lived in was home to a handful small-time criminals, and she was aware of that, but she never thought she'd run into any of them.
"Knock her out. I don't like when they're awake," said the pierced man in an uneasy voice, looking around. They had done this multiple times, yet he still felt unusually nervous. He shook his head at himself. There was nothing to be nervous about. Their gang basically ruled in this side of town. They had taken their pleasure with many women and nobody dared to testify against them. They knew better than that.
The man with the scarred face laughed in response, and cheerfully replied, "Why? They're so much more fun when they struggle!"
The auburn man shot him a look.
"Fine," Lance conceded. He sometimes resented the fact that his friend was somewhat of a coward. He wouldn't voice his opinion out loud, though. As long as he got to fuck a warm female body, he was content. Whether they were conscious or not was optional.
He went towards the small woman. She was on her hands and knees. He violently kicked her stomach. She howled in pain, but still attempted to get up.
Lance frowned. What a shame, he was going to have to hit that pretty face of hers now.
He bent down and grabbed a fistful of her wavy golden-brown hair, but quickly recoiled, hissing in pain.
Perplexed, he looked at the strange blue liquid staining his hand. It had burnt him, feeling eerily similar to acid.
Having recovered from the shock, extreme anger registered in his mind as he finally realized it was going to leave a nasty scar. He was going to make her pay dearly for that.
As he bent down to hit her with the butt of his gun again, Hermione blindly swung her arm at him. She felt her arm make contact. Hearing him groan in pain, she summoned all of her strength, got up, and ran as fast she could towards the restaurant.
Sprinting, she screamed for help, but nobody came to her rescue.
"Riley, don't let her get away!" croaked the scarred man as he tried to regain his senses and doubled in pain. The damn woman had hit his groin. He laughed as he heard her panicked screams. Oh, she could scream her heart out if she wanted to. Nobody would come to her aid, the locals knew better than that.
Hermione didn't dare look back. Her heart felt as it were about to explode.
A wave of dizziness momentarily obscured her vision, but she still kept running on wobbly legs. She fell in an ungraceful heap as someone tackled her off balance. She went down hard, her small hands going out in front of her to protect her unborn baby.
. . .
Draco was close, he could feel her presence.
He heard her scream and quickened his steps. He looked at the laughing man hobbling towards the sound of her voice.
The wizard felt his blood boil as he saw, no, smelt her blood on him.
Draco fluidly grabbed the man by the throat, and threw him against the nearest wall with force. The pistol flew away from the muggle's grasp.
He took great joy in seeing the muggle's green eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets as he slumped to the ground and succumbed to unconsciousness
Draco wasn't done with him, but he wasn't interested in dragging out his death. At the moment all of his entire concentration was focused on locating his mudblood.
Going over to the slumped body, he placed his boot over the muggle's neck and pressed down with force, effectively shattering his trachea.
. . .
The pierced male watched as the woman he had just tackled struggled to get up. He stretched his slightly stiff limbs. As he stalked towards her, he offhandedly noticed that she was pregnant. Her petite body still looked pleasing enough to him.
Hermione felt tears streaming down her cheeks as she pressed her aching body against the wall. She flattened herself as much as she could and then very carefully placed her trembling hands over her stomach in a protective manner.
He was so extremely close to her. She warily eyed the small knife he now held in front of him.
"Don't move," he threatened.
Hermione nodded at the threat. She felt bile rise in her throat as he leaned in and started to undo the buttons of her shirt with the knife. She inhaled his scent as she tried to calm her breathing. He smelled awful, a mixture of alcohol, cigarettes, and sweat.
Hermione pleaded with him to stop, but he merely chuckled. He proceeded to grope her small breasts with bruising force.
Despite his threat, the brunette tried clawing at him, but he avoided her blunt nails.
She fearfully saw as he raised his hand to strike her. She closed her eyes in expectation, but the knocking blow never came.
. . .
Draco's silver grey eyes narrowed in fury as he saw his mudblood pressed against the wall, a muggle male looming over her as he held her exposed body in place. He saw the muggle aggressively raise his hand.
He sped up, and pulled the offending arm backwards until an audible snap was heard.
Draco smiled sadistically as the muggle tried to scream.
A bone-cracking sound and a muffled scream from her assailant made Hermione snap open her tired eyes.
"Malfoy," she breathed.
She witnessed in barely concealed astonishment as her tormentor easily overpowered the biker.
Hermione flinched as Malfoy roughly twisted the man's neck and threw his limp body aside like a rag doll. The pierced man's now lifeless, glazed eyes made her shiver.
The sight of the menacing wizard made heart rate quicken. In a weird way, she was relieved to see him, but as his pale eyes assessed her face and body, she could feel the anger radiating off of him.
As she paid more attention she realized that his hostility wasn't directed at her. In fact, it completely dispersed as his grey eyes momentarily settled on hers.
She noticed that he took a quick glance at her exposed chest, before turning away.
Blushing furiously, she tried hiding her breasts with her thin arms.
He walked towards her and stopped right before their bodies touched. In a gallant gesture, with his gaze still averted, he silently handed her his coat to cover herself with.
She accepted it with trembling fingers, and took a deep breath, smelling his masculine scent.
It soothed her. His presence alone comforted her, providing reassurance that she never thought he could give.
Draco gently smoothed her sweat drenched hair from her forehead.
His gaze softened as he searched her expressive eyes.
He closely leaned in, his lips lightly brushing across her temple.
She shuddered at their proximity and pushed at the wall of his chest.
He was overwhelming her senses.
"Where are you hurt?" he asked, as he pulled away. His face was anxious. He could oddly smell that she was bleeding. It angered him that the scent of her blood was making his body harden.
His body's reaction was inappropriate, but he couldn't will the need in his blood to go away.
Her eyes filled with unshed tears. She closed her eyes to keep the tears at bay. It nearly seemed like he cared, but she knew better.
His jaw clicked, feeling irritated at both her silence and his own lust.
"Mudblood, where are you hurt?" he demanded, his annoyance palpable.
Hermione's body tensed at the insult.
She didn't answer. She merely gritted her teeth as another wave of pain came over her.
Draco felt his heart clench painfully as she hugged her slightly protruding abdomen.
She couldn't think anymore, couldn't bring herself to face him. He was confusing her. She couldn't trust him. One minute he was nice, almost gentle and the next he was downright cruel. Her tired mind couldn't handle it.
Letting out a small whimper of distress, she fainted.
He reached out and caught her limp body.