A/N: Hi Hi Guys
I know, it's been a long while, but I've had a crazy few months. My boyfriend of one year broke up with me, I had family issues and now I'm off at college. I guess real life gets in the way huh?
Anyways, I made this longer than normal. Hopefully this will be the normal chapter length from now on if not longer. If you find grammar errors I'm so sorry. I finished writing the first part of this today and looked briefly over the next part. I might edit it in the next few days, but for now I thought you guys might appreciate a new chapter. Besides, if I don't put it up now I'm not sure when I will. If it feels rushed, I'm so sorry. I need to do some final touches x.x
Thanks so much for your support guys. I hope you like this! Please Read and Review!
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine, just the story line
Chapter
Three days after their encounter, Hermione Granger still avoided Draco Malfoy as much as possible.
Now, it wasn't a very Hermione thing to do, avoiding the problem that is, but she figured she had every right to do so in this case. Psychoanalyzing what had occurred would lead her down a path of bad and evil thoughts, thoughts that the two had actually come to a truce which would lead to them being…friends.
She made a face. Catching her look, Ginny gave a questioning face from across the table. Hermione just shook her head to say it was nothing. She shrugged and turned to continue her conversation with Luna.
She wanted to bang her head on the table. Hermione Granger should not be having thoughts like this. It was a sin, a grave sin.
"Hermione?" Ron asked for what sounded like his thousandth time. She snapped out of her thoughts and looked at him. Seeing that he finally had her attention he asked, "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine Ron," she replied tartly, rather irritated that she had been caught once again in her rather dazed state.
"Well, I was just wondering," he replied as he grabbed for the orange marmalade. He piled on the jelly and then took a big bite out of his thick wheat toast. He knew by now when to push Hermione and when to not. This was one of those not times.
Grabbing her bag, Hermione got up. "I'm going to the library. I need to get a start on my essay before I have to do rounds."
They all nodded as she waved hoping that her walk to the library would relieve her of her obvious distress, and off she left.
She couldn't understand it. Draco Malfoy was actually congenial. Yes, what he said to her that night was congenial in Malfoy terms. Then she stopped dead in the hall and groaned. Rounds, Malfoy, Fuck.
It was a tradition that Head Boy and Girl patrol the halls together every Monday and Thursday night. Tonight happened to be Thursday night. Damn. There was no avoiding it.
Thus she spent the next hour furiously attacking her homework. That always helped her feel prepared to difficult feats like the one coming up right now.
At five minutes to ten she packed her things to meet Malfoy in their common room like usual and as usual they didn't speak a word to each other as Malfoy walked to the hall. She soon followed three steps after.
Together they walked beginning in the dungeons and working their way up to astronomy tower, each with their dimly lit wands in front of them.
It was Hermione who found them first: three fifth year Slytherins and one third year Gryffindor. If she recalled correctly, her name was Alice. They stopped their assault to see what the disturbance was.
"Sixty points from Slytherin for being out late and assaulting an innocent student and ten points from Gryffindor for lack of common sense and stupidity for being out this late alone and without a wand," Hermione exclaimed immediately breaking the group up. They turned to return to their beds, some more happily than others.
"Ah Granger, you spoiled their fun," Draco said approaching behind her.
"If this is your definition of fun, I don't want to know what you do at night," she replied back angry. She felt a splitting headache coming on. She rubbed her temples to try and alleviate the building pressure.
He smirked, or rather, she felt his smirk. "I could always show you."
"Show me what?" she snapped back. When she looked up she saw him closer than their agreed three steps to her. She unconsciously took a step back towards the wall.
"A good time," he replied as he inched up to her. "Or as you put it, my definition of fun."
"As if," she spat back. She wanted nothing more than to smack that ridiculous look off his face. He looked so confident, so full of himself.
"Tsk Tsk Granger. You shouldn't refuse something that comes once in a lifetime. Who else can say they've been shagged by a sex god?"
"All of Slytherin and a few from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff who fell for the bad boy image," she shot back, the adrenaline beginning to rush though her.
"Ah, and now I can add one Gryffindor,"
She didn't have time to reply back. His lips came crashing on her. She lost all sense of time, place and propriety. Here was a beautiful, blond, sex god crushing his lips upon her as though he was deprived of air and she was his only means of getting that sweet sweet substance. He pushed her roughly against the wall and pressed his body up against her. God, how she despised it.
"Enjoying it Granger?" he hissed as she struggled against his hold. He hissed the words into her ear.
"Hardly," she replied matching his gaze. She eyes blazed with fury. She tried to kick him; anything to get out of his grasp. He let out a laugh, and she felt her blood chill. She felt his hand on her thigh and stared him straight in the eyes. "Don't you dare Malfoy."
"Dare what?" he asked with a smirk. His hand did not move an inch.
She gaped at him, unable to form the words. He moved his hand to urge her on. "Don't you dare move that hand any higher Draco Malfoy or I will hex you to oblivion and beyond," she hissed.
Despite her threat, she couldn't bring herself to struggle out of his grasp as his hand slid higher and higher up her thigh. It finally stopped just short of her bum so that it rested on her fleshy thigh.
She felt a heat. It was not arousal, but something different. It radiated from Malfoy's hand. She looked down as did he to gaze upon her birth mark. Etched in what seemed to be white was a picture of an angel wing and in the center was a heart.
Their eyes met once again, but this time it was different. He was no longer smirking. Instead anger replaced them. Before she knew it Malofy's other hand soon made its way up her blouse. She let out a cry as he ripped her blouse open.
"What the fuck Malfoy?" she screamed as she desperately tried to cover herself. He had finally let go of her. She stood, arms crossed over her chest as he looked not at her but at her necklace.
After what seemed to be minutes, hours, he finally spoke. "Go clean yourself up. You look as though you've been thoroughly shagged. I'll finish rounds myself."
With that he turned and walked away.
After that night she didn't see Draco Malofy again. In fact, he all but avoided her. She didn't realize it at first, but after the first few days it became apparent. He was never in their rooms. He always sat the farthest he could away from her, and she never ran into him in the halls. He always sat with his back towards her and hell, he even stopped doing rounds. The first night she waited half an hour before she said, "Screw it" and did rounds herself.
She wasn't sure how she felt about it. A part of her was relieved. It made her life a lot easier not having to worry about Draco Malfoy, but another part of her was her. It was a quite small part, but alas, there it was inside of her. She wanted to snub it out, like one would crush a cigarette butt under her heel.
She asked Zabini one time during their rounds. He simply shrugged. He had asked Draco the same thing the other day. He simply replied that Zabini needed to "fuck off" and that he "had better shit to do than follow a prissy Gryffindor around for rounds." To say the least, Hermione had a few choice words to say to that.
That's why she didn't understand why he would place the tome that he did upon her table stand. She stood there in their common room staring at her stand. On it laid a very ancient looking tome. She knew only Malfoy would have placed it there because he knew that's where she placed her books that she read each night before she retired to her chambers. To further affirm that it was indeed Malfoy, he had taken the novel she was reading and replaced it with this hideous, but rather important looking tome.
She sighed and gave in. Fine, she'd play his little game.
That's how she ended up reading the night away.
In the tome held the answers to everything she sought. Angelus. She spent the night feverously reading the entire tome. The more she read, the more dangerous the information felt to her. She realized this was the reason nothing was ever said about the Angelus. Were the public to know, god, they would kill her.
It was that night she put two and two together. Her birthmark, the necklace she inherited from her grandmother was not actually her grandmother's at all. It was her father's, Marcus Angelus' crest, the Angelus Crest.
She was indeed the last Angelus.
At four in the morning, she couldn't help but stare at the ceiling. The information sunk in as she stared, arms sprawled out. Angelus. The word held no evil for her. She wasn't disgusted or horrified at the knowledge that she was born a killer from a family full of blood on their hands. She was simply Angelus. She was who she was.
Her last thought before she passed out from exhaustion was, "Fuck, Ron and Harry are going to kill me for this."
Draco Malfoy was not surprised to find Hermione Granger passed out on the couch in their common room. He expected it of her. He knew how she would react upon finding that tome. It had taken him forever to convince his parents to mail it over to him. They questioned him to no end, even now they wondered whether it was right to send such a treasure to their only son.
Still. He wanted to say fuck it all. Hermione Granger was the Angelus. Fuck, Merlin must be laughing in his grave. He was bound to protect the one girl he would have no problem ending.
He walked over and grabbed the tomb from her grasp. It would not do to have others run upon this particular tome. He looked Granger. He knew she wouldn't talk. Her secret was safe enough.
Ron groaned as he ate chicken and wild rice soup, of all things. "Double potions with Slytherin. It's like this every bloody year. It's like the yearly curse!" he exclaimed, waving his spoon around in the air to emphasize his point, which received several shouts as bits of rice flew onto the table. "I swear by my name that Snape does it just to piss us off. If I have one more bloody year—"
"This is our last year," Hermione exclaimed exasperated as she tried to look over her notes for Potions. She tried to contain the head ache pounding in her skull. She had gotten two hours of sleep and while it did not show, she sure felt it. She half listened to her lectures and half slept in most of them. She noticed a bit of rice had landed on her notes and grimaced as she delicately flicked it off.
Ron paused for a moment considering the information. "Well, yes, of course, that's true…"
"So there's no need to complain now. Besides, winter break is only a month away, right after midterms," Hermione announced smirking triumphantly at him.
Ron groaned again. "Did you have to remind me?"
Harry grinned. "Well, you should begin studying for potions if you want to pass and do well on your NEWTS."
"I'm doomed," Ron cried and banged his head on the table, disregarding the odd looks he received from those nearby.
"Is Ron at it again?" Seamus asked shifting his gaze from his bowl to the 'dead' Ron. "He's been at it all week. It's always 'bloody this' or 'damn that'."
"Yes, well, it is considered one of his few talents," Ginny replied, joining their small conversation.
The small conversation continued until the end of dinner as they eventually figured out a way to wake Ron from his 'trauma.' ("Hey Ron, I think Lavender is looking at you.") Afterwards the three got up and headed for their next class: potions.
The class was notoriously known throughout the school. Students dreaded it even more so than before. The dungeons felt not only cold and dreary, but there was an aspect of danger, warning, in the air.
They arrived with their guards up. They were in enemy territory now. Most of the Slytherins were already in the magical classroom and the atmosphere was alert with danger. Danger was, of course, the trademark of the Hogwarts dungeons among other rather, delightful things. Hermione sat down next to Neville as Ron and Harry sat in the desks behind them.
With dramatic flare, Snape burst into the potions room and everything became deathly silent. Professor Snape was the same greasy grit from before, but now he was a real greasy grit. He no longer had to hide his death eater status, and instead, embraced it.
He stalked over to his desk and faced the class. He glared at the class and with the swish of his wand a list of ingredients appeared on the board. Placing two hands upon his desk, he began to speak.
"Who can inform me of what potion you will be attempting to successfully complete today?" he sneered in malice as if they were all unworthy of being there and as if he had better things to do.
Everyone but Hermione and Draco fidgeted in their seats. Even after seven years of lessons, the students had yet to get used to the Professor's glare which seemed to have only grown worse over the years. The two aforementioned both raised their hands. Hermione sat just as calmly as Draco did, leaning by now that enthusiasm would only receive harsh words in Snape's class. Besides, she didn't have the energy for it today.
"Mr. Malfoy?" Snape asked facing Draco with a grim smile of sorts.
"We are brewing the time-location potion," Draco announced in his usual drawl of arrogance.
"Correct, ten points to Slytherin," Snape said as if everything had gone as planned. He turned to growl at the rest of the class. "Well what are you waiting for? Get started!"
The class scrambled to their own cauldrons to get to work. Hermione worked alone as did the rest of the students in the class. In Snape's words, "If you've all made it this far you should be self-sufficient enough to work alone" After gathering all her ingredients, she propped her book open and got started chopping the dried cranberries after bringing her water to a simmer.
The class period passed rather pleasantly considering it was Snape's class as her potion progressed perfectly, turning the correct shades of blue and deep red. She continued to stir counter-clockwise, keeping track of how many more she had to go before she added the dragonfly wings.
Smiling that she'd finished the last step she quickly gathered her dragonfly wings, unaware of the plans brewing about her. As she tossed in the dragonfly wings in her half dazed state, she saw her potion disappear and reappear in the wrong shade of blue.
"Oh," she exclaimed quietly before her potion exploded.
"Longbottom your inability to handle the most basic of tasks…" Snape drawled as if he had rehearsed his lines many times before, which would not have been far from the truth. When he saw not Longbottom's, but Granger's cauldron had been the one to explode, his eyes widened in surprise. He made his way over to her, his robes bellowing out in a rather dramatic flair. He looked down at her in amusement, as if he had received a new toy, one in which he would have much fun tormenting and sneered, "What is the meaning of this Granger?"
"I, I don't know professor…" Hermione replied perplexed. She couldn't understand. She did everything perfectly, how could his have happened? Her confusion did not help her exhausted state any.
"Hermione!" Harry and Ron exclaimed as they rushed over to her.
"Stop!" Snape yelled as the two boys came to a halt. "Idiots, you don't know what happened. Stand back." The two boys looked on helplessly as Snape now turned his attention to Hermione. She was currently on the floor with pale blue goop all over her. He gave a grimace. "Granger, while I knew you were always lacking in ability, I never knew you would go as far as exploding your potion," Snape snapped as he looked over the mess, calculating the damage. "It's a wonder the likes of you ever became Head Girl. Twenty points from Gryffindor and detention tonight so you can remake the potion."
Hermione gasped and her mind cleared over that one word: detention. She sat up and stared at her Professor. "But professor, I didn't do anything!" She knew this to be true, despite her tired state. She would never mess up a potion so blatantly. If anything it was be sub par to the actual potion, but never would she explode it.
"Well, clearly you did do something Miss Granger, or your potion would be adequately done and bottled by now." Snape replied with a rather sinister smirk on his face. It was clear he was getting amusement from harassing the golden girl.
"But—"
"Professor, clearly this is not Granger's fault."
The class, which by now had finished their potions turned to see Draco Malfoy sitting with a pure-blooded smirk on his face.
"And why is that Mr. Malfoy?" Snape asked eyebrow raised and suspicious as to why a Slytherin would be helping a Gryffindor. His eyes spoke asked all that needed to be asked. 'You dare go against me?'
'No,' Draco's eyes replied.
Snape raised an eyebrow in suspicion and curiosity. 'Then please continue.'
Draco gave a little sneer. "Because, while it may be that Granger continually presents herself as incapable, she wouldn't be stupid enough to screw up a potion now," his gaze moved over to where Harry and Ron stood. Their faces became white. Snape followed his gaze and saw what Draco had in mind. Clearly Granger wouldn't be stupid enough to make such a novice error. Instead, place the blame where it is needed: Pot-head and Weasel. "Potter and Weasley are the ones to blame," Draco affirmed with a wicked smirk.
"And why would that be Mr. Malfoy?" Snape asked with an identical smirk on his face as he played Malfoy's game. Potter and Weasley were theirs.
"Because they switched their potions with Granger."
All heads turned over to face Harry and Ron who stood stark white like ghosts, fear clearly written on their faces. It was not Snape that frightened them, oh no, it was more serious than that. It was the blazing little girl on the floor next to him. She turned to the boys with eyes of pure fury, as if hell itself had found a haven in her eyes. If looks could kill, they would be sent to the lowest level of hell and put in Satan's mouth right next to Judas.
Snape grinned with pleasure. "Twenty points from both of you and detention for two weeks." He turned to Hermione and continued. "You are expected to attend also."
With that he scourgified the room and announced class dismissed.
"I can not believe you two," she hissed as she stormed out of the classroom. The two boys ran after her as she blazed past them. She turned her heel as the boys came to an abrupt halt. "You deliberately tried to use my work, knowing full well how much I pride myself on perfection."
"Hermione," Ron whined.
"We were not trying to degrade you," Harry cut in, knowing full well that Ron would just make things worse. "We simply thought that you wouldn't mind helping two friends in need because Merlin knows you attain perfect scores on everything. We didn't think you'd mind having one bad mark."
To say the least, she was beyond pissed now. The words would not properly formulate in her head as she shook her finger at them fuming. "Were you not such good friends I would murder you right now. As it is, I don't want to see your faces in front of me for a very long time." With that she turned around again and stormed off.
She stormed down the dark corridor and made her way up the stairs. While Hermione knew she should be on her way to Defense Against the Dark Arts, she desperately needed air, fast. Otherwise she would explode and nothing good would come of that. Her shoes clicked one by one as she finished climbing the magical stairs and made her way down the rather cold main corridor.
She could not believe them. They knew how much she prided herself on her work, and yet, that did not deter them from doing something as foolish as trying to steal her work! Steal!
It hurt. She wanted to cry because it hurt so much. To Hermione Granger, there was nothing worse that her friends could have done. They had used her for their own purposes, their own gains.
Hermione shook her head to shake away the oncoming tears and took in a deep breath; the main doors only a few steps ahead of her. She felt a sense of relief wash over her as her hand pressed against the cool oak; she was safe.
It was snowing outside when she arrived. Everything was blanketed in white and immediately she felt a rush of cold. She was freezing, but it was refreshing to her. It felt as though, if she stayed out there long enough, got cold enough, numb enough, that she would be too numb to feel all the emotion residing within her.
Her breath made small puffs of fog as her footprints were left in the snow.
He saw her the moment she walked out the doors. She looked like him, a soul seeking solitude from reality. He scoffed as he looked out at the lake again and kicked the snow. The last person he expected to be out here skipping class was Granger.
He took a moment before he looked up again and met her gaze. He had been expecting sad warmth in those amber pools. What he got instead an intensity of despair to which he had seen only a few times within his mother and father. Standing there, as their eyes locked, he felt her loneliness wash over him with such force that it almost frightened him. That's why he had called out her name. That's why he had begun to insult her.
"Granger," he said in his usual drawl.
His voice brought her back to reality and she began to once more walk towards him. One by one, her tracks falling next to another made in the snow: a pair.
"God Granger, do you want to become positively ill?" he asked as she approached him. The bitterness was there, but strangely, there was no cruelty, no hate in the air. It was strangely refreshing to her to hear someone yell at her rather than coddle her with syrupy affection. The venom in his voice resounded in the cool air, but was lost in the blankets of snow. They were both lonely souls tonight. She didn't ask him about the tome. Now wasn't the time. Now was now. Last night, this morning was of another time.
She smiled weakly at him, meeting his intense gaze once more. "I needed to get some fresh air." She paused and gave a little smirk both of loathing and amusement. "Didn't understand why it was so tainted though until I found the cause: you."
Her attitude, her smile unnerved him as he began to speak instinctively. "Fuck Granger, if you wanted to die there's better ways of doing it," he exclaimed in shock and positively clueless as to what he should say. Had she always been this girl standing before him in the freezing cold? "Like jumping off the astronomy tower, wouldn't that be a much more gratifying end for you? All this freezing to death, it's not exactly going to get you instant results."
She smiled at him and he felt his heart constrict. The sadness that loomed in her eyes touched even a frozen heart like his. What the fuck was with her today? A mudblood shouldn't be causing the slightest emotion to stir within him. Then the soft realization of truth sunk into him: she was an Angelus, his Angelus.
There was a pause, and then her smile turned in to a soft smirk. She didn't reply as she turned to gaze out that the picturesque landscape in front of them.
Seeing that Granger wouldn't reply he gave a rather un-Malfoy sigh and turned back to gaze at the snow covered lake.
The minutes passed unknowingly. The snow continued to fall from the gray sky, drifting one by one down to the white, snow covered ground. The silence didn't bother them, rather, it was welcomed. The cold had already seeped into their bodies to be of any concern and it soothed their racing minds and calmed their thoughts.
"Here," he finally said snapping Hermione out of her daze. "We can't have the entire Gryffindor house hunting my blood and screaming murder at me." He gave a smirk as if he had come up with something rather amusing. He held out his cloak to her. She simply stared at the thing startled as though her mind could not comprehend that Draco Malfoy, her rival and arch-enemy was offering her his cloak. Seeing that she wouldn't take it, he sighed and took the cloak and wrapped it around her, securing it with a pin of silver and emerald.
Then he turned to leave before she could say another word.
"Draco"
He froze and turned to look at the vixen who had spoken his name with such smoothness, with such eloquence, and with such simplicity and innocence that it made him shiver. His breath was caught in his throat and for some reason and his heart, blast his unfrozen heart, was racing.
She gave a genuine smile for the first time since she arrived. She's beautiful, Draco thought for the first time in his life. Never before had he found something so beautiful in his life. He thought beauty was himself, his mother's golden blonde hair, or even the landscape around him. Never in his life had he thought a woman, a mudblood, no a pureblood woman, would fill his mind with such beauty that he was blown away.
She stood, cheeks rosy from the cold, her amber-brown eyes bright and full of innocence, happiness, and love. She seemed alive to him, standing there in his cloak, her ginger hair tumbling down in curls around her. He had to wonder, how could anyone so filthy be so beautiful?
"Thanks."
He nodded firmly in reply. Then he turned to continue his journey back to the castle and forget the surreal scene he had just witnessed before him only minutes ago.
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