"We know he's got Horcruxes," Ron said as he paced around the Common Room, "but how many are there? And what exactly are they?" He dragged a hand over his face.
It was Saturday again, and the Golden Trio had assembled for a private meeting in the Head Common Room. Neville was out at the Greenhouse, so they had no need to worry about being overheard. The trip to Hogsmeade was in a few hours, which was what they were all waiting for, but for now, they had important matters to discuss.
"Dumbledore said he would have at least seven Horcruxes," Harry said, looking away when he felt the pang in his chest at his mention of his fallen mentor's name. "And we don't know what all of them are; from the memories we looked at, we found they're objects of great importance or value to him. One was obviously the diary, which we don't have to worry about, since I destroyed it before I even knew what a Horcrux is. The ring Dumbledore wore was also one; he managed to destroy it, though it ruined his hand. The Slytherin locket his mum had was another, and I'm willing to bet all my money on the cup of Hufflepuff, seeing as Riddle stole it after he had killed the woman who owned it."
Hermione and Ron exchanged grim glances.
"Where are we going to find all of these?" Hermione asked carefully. "They can't all be in the same place, can they?"
Harry shook his head. "Too risky. He's hidden them in different places. Luckily, the diary was practically thrown at us, and Dumbledore found the ring and the locket. Even though it was a fake, it gave us clues as to where it might be now, so that's better than nothing. We'll have to look for them."
"Well that sounds easy," Ron said sarcastically. "They could be anywhere, mate! We might as well go and ask him where they are."
"Not quite," Harry said thoughtfully, repressing a smile. "Dumbledore said each item was hidden somewhere that probably meant a lot to him, or held some kind of significance. The locket was found in some horrid cave he used to go to when he lived in the orphanage. The ring he took from his last relatives. No doubt there's one hidden here in Hogwarts, seeing how much this place meant to him. And Malfoy Senior had the diary before he passed it on to Ginny. Malfoy's one of his best and most trusted Death Eaters, isn't he? So if he had it in his care, he might have another, unless Riddle's trusted one of the Horcruxes to Bellatrix."
"And where's the safest place to keep something?" Hermione asked slyly.
Ron turned away from the window, grinning at them, though his face had gone white.
"Gringotts."
It was time for the excursion down to Hogsmeade, so they, excited with their brilliant discovery and plans to go in search of the forbidden items, went down to the villa together.
"Fancy going into the Three Broomstick's first?" Ron asked. "I'm starved."
Hermione looked at him with wide eyes. "We just ate!"
"I'm a growing man," Ron said, laughing. "I need nourishment!"
They cheerfully walked into the establishment, and quickly found a booth at the far corner, where there were fewer people. Ron hurried off to place their orders. The general loudness of the place and cozy fires made for a welcoming environment, and Harry and Hermione settled comfortably together on one side.
"So when do we leave?" Hermione asked quietly.
"Spring. During the Easter hols."
Hermione's eyes widened again, and her face drained of color.
"But our NEWTS exams!"
Harry tried not to laugh as he looked at her dismayed face. He cleared his throat and placed his hand atop hers, which lay on the table.
She looked down and cleared her throat.
"Obviously taking Voldemort down is a priority," she said. "I'm sorry. I just-it hurts a bit to think about the possibility of us leaving school and never being able to finish."
Harry nodded. It was a thought he'd mulled over for a while, now.
"I know it's tough to think about," he said softly. "I don't like the thought of it, either. There's so many ways this can go wrong. But I have to."
He looked down at the coaster he held between his hands.
"And if you don't want to go, don't. I'd never force you to come with me if that's not what you want."
Hermione put her hand on his arm.
"I'm going," she said firmly. "For better or for worse, I'll be there."
Harry leaned into her, cupping her cheek, and kissed her softly.
"Who knows," Hermione said when they pulled apart, "maybe McGonagall will let us complete our education once everything's over."
But all that depended on the outcome of the approaching war.
Before Harry could reply, Ron arrived with their drinks and his order.
"Here you are," he chimed happily, setting their Butterbeers down on the table with muted clinks and set his own plate in front of him as he sat down.
They walked out of the Three Broomsticks some time later, trying to decide where they should go next.
"Go to Zonko's," Hermione said lightly. "I think I'll look about and try to do some Christmas shopping, so I might be a while."
"Sure you don't want us to go with you?" Ron asked, already heading off towards the joke shop. Harry wasn't far behind him, but he was looking at Hermione seriously.
"Positive." She smiled to reassure them. "If I'm not back in an hour and a half, you can find me by the Shrieking Shack."
"Why there in particular?" Harry asked.
"They've got some benches by there I can sit on, and I've got a book I've been meaning to finish." The lie had come out of nowhere but was just what she needed. The boys nodded disinterestedly.
"Alright then," Harry said and squeezed her hand before he went after Ron.
Hermione waited until they were gone to head off to the Shrieking Shack, peering cautiously about her all the meanwhile to make sure no one noticed her. The crowds thinned out as she continued down the path that eventually ended once she had reached Hogsmeade's end. She was familiar enough with the Shack to know what direction to go-it wasn't far off. She could see the cruelly angled branches of the Whomping Willow above the regular treeline.
She didn't know why she was doing this, to be honest.
She had decided she wouldn't come. It was too risky. She didn't even know if Cormac was being honest. He could be up to no good, really.
But if Malfoy was involved, she had to know. Any information Cormac might have on him could help her-she might pass on the information to the Order, and it could lead to his capture.
Don't get your hopes up, she warned herself.
She had been too afraid to take action before. She had learned her lesson, and would not let it happen again.
She stepped off the end of the path and entered the forest.
Her walk wasn't long-but the minutes seemed to crawl slowly here and the sun overhead was starting its descent. She would have to hurry, as all the students would be expected back at the castle before long. There was a sudden chill in the air here. She shuddered, wrapped her robe more tightly around herself, and wondered why she had chosen to do this alone. For all her talk about taking action, she had gone about it wrong and was starting to regret it now.
The Shrieking Shack was in her view suddenly. She stopped abruptly, having made up her mind to go back to Harry and Ron and tell them the truth, and to ask them to accompany her.
"I thought you wouldn't come."
She let out a startled yelp and jumped at the sound of the voice that came from behind her. She placed her hand on her heart, feeling her racing pulse as she gulped in air, whirling around to find Cormac there, dressed in dark robes with his hood drawn.
"Could you not do that?" she hissed, glaring at him.
"Nice to see you too, Granger," he chuckled.
"Can't say I return the sentiment," she said peevishly. "I'm still wondering why I came at all."
He ignored her comment, surveyed their surroundings.
"You know why you're here," he said boldly, giving her an even stare. "For some reason, Malfoy's linked me into whatever's going on between you, and I'm trying to figure out why, and you want to hear what happened. Does that sound right?"
She hesitated and then nodded.
"What say you we take a walk?" he offered. "We're likely to be overheard here."
"By who?" Hermione protested. "There's no one around."
"Says the girl who went to a lonely pub to organize an illegal group, thinking they wouldn't be overheard," he taunted, grinning. "One never knows who or what might be lurking around."
"I've walked far enough," she said. "I'm not leaving this area."
He glanced behind her, frowning. Hermione heard a twig snap in the distance and whirled around, but found nothing.
"Then at least let's talk inside the Shack," Cormac said, still frowning in the directiont the sound had come in. "Funny as it may sound, we'll be safer there."
Hermione looked around the area again, unsure.
"Fine," she conceded.
Cormac had already set off on the path, walking towards the Shrieking Shack.
The area was eerily quiet-but it had always been this way. In every instance she had visited the Shrieking Shack, she didn't recall ever having heard birds in the area. She followed Cormac to the Shack, discretely withdrawing her wand from its pocket to reassure herself. A cold rain began to fall, scattering tiny dark spots all over her coat and soaking into her hair. She began to walk faster and quickly reached him at the shabby little house, his palm lying flat on the wall.
"There's no way to get in, you know," she said haughtily, crossing her arms.
At least, none that you know.
And just as she finished her sentence, he pressed a loose-looking brick further in, and a door appeared to its right.
Cormac turned to her, grinning again.
"You were saying?"
Hermione looked in amazement at the door. How long had that been there? Even Harry hadn't known about this, or else they'd never have bothered to take the entrance under the Whomping Willow.
More importantly how did Cormac, of all people, know about this?
"After you," he motioned for her to step inside. The door opened and a staircase was revealed, leading to an upper level.
"I think I'll ignore the decorum just this once. You go first," she said, eyeing him suspiciously as a fat raindrop splashed onto her nose.
He bowed. "Anything to please the lady." With a wink, he began to climb the stairs and Hermione followed, but not before making sure the door was ajar; just enough so anyone passing by would notice it, or if she had need of a speedy exit.
She stepped up onto the upper level and found herself in the same exact room she, Harry, and Ron had been in when they had had their confrontation with Professor Lupin, Professor Snape, and Peter Pettigrew. That felt like so long ago, now. The room was satuarated with the memory, with the horror of what had happened there. She looked down at the floor and found she was standing on a particularly nasty set of claw marks. She edged away.
Cormac stood leaning against the wall, staring at her.
"Well?" she asked, pressing her palms against her thighs, trying to sound more confident than she felt. "Tell me what happened. I can't stay long."
The corner of his lips lifted in a lazy smile.
"How've you been?" he asked suddenly, his face stony.
Taken aback, Hermione bit her lip. "Um. Fine. What does it matter?"
"It matters plenty to me," he said, shrugging a shoulder. "I've been wondering. How's your relationship with Potter?" he asked.
His questions came out as demands. Was she imagining the slight smile on his face morphing into a sneer?
Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "I don't think that's any of your business."
"You're not afraid Malfoy will get at him, too?" Cormac asked. He began to walk towards her, and uneasy, she began to move unconsciously away from the exit to keep distance between them.
"Why would Malfoy go after Harry?" she asked impatiently. "Voldemort wants him, not Malfoy."
"Well he got to me after he found out what I did," Cormac said. "He seems to think of himself as your bodyguard."
"He's not," she said hotly. "'All I ever wanted from him was to leave me alone."
"Mind telling him that, then?" Cormac asked. "He gave me a good scare and warned me to stay away from you or else."
"Then why bother going back to Hogwarts just to see me and then coming to this length just to talk?" Hermione asked, frowning. "It doesn't make sense. If he's watching you, he'll know. You might have just sent me a letter and saved the both of us all this trouble instead of putting us both at risk by making me come here."
"I wanted to see you again," he said simply. "And I didn't force you to come. You decided to come on your own. I reckon you'd have had a harder time believing me if this was all done on paper, besides."
She didn't appear convinced.
"I don't know how," he began, "but Malfoy knew what I'd done to you at the ball. I'd already been sent home, but over the Christmas holiday he found me, and he made me pay."
Hermione's hands began to shake at the memory of the assault inside her mind as Malfoy had forced his way into her mind and memory. Her insides had turned to ice.
"He used Legimency on me," she croaked. "He cornered me that night and saw what happened. It wasn't his business, I didn't tell him willingly."
"He made it his business," Cormac replied woodenly. "He doesn't like having his things tampered with so he punished me."
"I'm not his," she said angrily. "I may not be very fond of you, but I'd never have sent him after you, Cormac, believe me. That's all his own doing."
Cormac's face was eerily vacant except for his stare which was bright and dark as he looked at her. The hairs on her arms stood on end and she edged back. Something wasn't right.
"Cormac is dead, Hermione."
His voice was devoid of emotion.
Hermione froze. Her heart stuttered.
"What?"
Cormac smiled. "Malfoy tracked me down over the Christmas holiday when I was with my parents. He killed all three of us although my parents were innocent and grabbed a few of my hairs in case they would come in handy." He laughed. "I guess they did."
"What are you saying?" she asked, stumbling over her own words in a haze of confusion. She raised her wand at him, nearly dropping it in fright. He took another step and she took one step backward, staggering under her mounting terror.
"What I'm saying is that I'm not Cormac, sweetheart," he said, his grin growing wider, more predatory. "And that you really should have known better than to come here alone."
This is a nightmare, she was telling herself, knowing all the while the truth was the exact opposite. Just another one. Wake up. Wake up.
And Hermione stood, paralyzed with fear as 'Cormac' began to transform before her. She knew who it was behind the disguise, but the knowledge did not stop the sudden horrible shock that ran through her when Malfoy was finally revealed before her, his eyes as cold and wanting and vivid as they had been in her dreams since the last time she had seen him in person.
How stupid she had been.
How very, extremely stupid.
She never should have come here.
"I told you that you were too naive, Princess," he said gloatingly, taking another step forward. She raised her wand higher and he paused. "You were so eager to believe in McLaggen. What did you think would happen? Did you think he could actually help you? He could hardly even help himself when I got hold of him."
"N-No…" she croaked, eyes widening with horror. Her knees threatened to give out. Her mouth was suddenly so dry. "Petrificus totalis!"
He diverted her spell with a wave of his hand-she frowned, disbelieving. Since when had he become proficient at wandless magic?
"Oh yes," he said, his grey eyes practically sparkling with victory. "I told you I'd come back for you. You can't run from me, little bird."
A burst of adrenaline rushed through her. Before her fear could paralyze her again, Hermione sprang into motion, shouting 'Stupefy!' 'Locomotor motis!' and 'Impedimenta!' all in one breath with increasing desperation. Again she watched in horror as he blocked each spell, advancing towards her as easily as though he were walking down an abandoned hall at Hogwarts, even though she kept firing a barrage of jinxes and curses at him to prevent him from doing so.
Pausing to catch her breath, she cast a Protego just in time to deflect his Imperius, edging away from him as he circled her slowly. His eyes were all over her and she shivered. Her stomach churned. she eyed the exit, wondering if she could distract him and run to it quickly enough.
He'd tracked her eyeline and with two steps, blocked the exit. She shook her head.
"I told you I'd be back for you," he said, staring hard into her horrified face.
"For God's sake," she said through grit teeth, flicking her shield to the side to deflect another Imperius. "Leave me alone!"
She brought down her shield to attempt to Stun him again-he redirected the spell to streak to the other side of the room and miss him entirely, sending another Imperius at her that she blocked again.
They faced each other, wands ready and waiting. She was breathing hard, both from panic and from her exertion. He was intent, implacable, looking as normal as if they were schoolmates who'd just run into each other off campus. But his eyes were malice, and there was an edge to him that screamed danger, more so than ever before. Whatever had happened in the months since their last physical interaction, it had turned him for the worse. He appeared stronger, too.
Like he's been training for this.
The thought made her legs turn to water.
"Why can't you just accept I don't want you?" she asked, trying to keep her voice even. "Why are you like this?"
There was almost pity in his gaze as he looked at her. He stepped closer, reached out as if wanting to brush his hand against her cheek-she flinched violently and moved away. He didn't follow.
"I told you before that I understand your feelings," he replied. "But I don't need to take them into account to get what I want."
"You're a monster," she said, shaking.
"Come with me willingly and I won't hurt you," he said, extending his hand toward her. "It will be easier for you, Granger."
"Never."
He smiled. "It was worth a try. Imperio!"
She ducked away from the jet of white light, raising her shield again, but it was too late-he had sent a tripping jinx at her in the same breath as she had dodged, and it snaked around her ankles and pulled tight, knocking her to the ground.
She hit the floor hard, landing on her side, her breath flying from her lungs in a dismayed gasp.
There was another jet of light, and suddenly a stinging sensation hit her hand, shocking her into releasing her wand, which flew off to her right. She grasped for it blindly on the floor, her hands scrabbling against the wood, not wanting to take her eyes off Malfoy.
"No-"
There was blood in her vision when she opened her eyes-there was a sharp pain along her hairline. She winced and tried to roll away and into a sitting position as she felt him approach and then kneel. Bile rose in her throat as he straddled her. She sat up with a burst of energy and tried to push him over.
His hands met her chest and shoved her to the floor roughly. Her head hit the floor and she cried out, stars exploding across her range of vision. She had bitten her tongue in the collision and tasted blood.
"Let me GO!"
She tried to punch him-he caught her wrist and then took the other when it tried to complete what the other had attempted. He pinned her arms to the floor above her head with magic easily.
"I won't," he said. "You're coming with me whether you want to or not. You're mine, Granger."
She breathed quickly, on the verge of hyperventilating, her eyes wide and fearful. He reached out and took her chin in his hand. She struggled to tear herself out of his grip.
"I am not yours," she ground out and yelped when he slapped her quickly afterward. White exploded across her vision and faded away slowly.
Reaching out, he grabbed a fistful of her curls and angled her face so her neck was fully exposed.
"Yes, you are," he said, reaching up with his free hand to hold her elbow where he had carved his initial into her flesh. He squeezed it painfully. "I claimed you. You seem to have forgotten-I saw how you danced with Longbottom and Potter while my mark is on you. So quick to make yourself the school whore, aren't you? As if that could make you forget what I did to you?"
"Harry is my boyfriend," she said angrily. "And I'll dance with my friends how I want."
He squeezed her throat in warning.
"You are mine, Granger," he hissed, burying his face into her soft skin. "Mine, and no one else's. You have no right to share yourself with anyone that isn't me."
Her face twisted in outrage.
"Go to hell," she writher underneath him, angling to give him a kick in the crotch.
"I definitely am, but so are you," he said before crushing his lips to hers.
"G-get o-umph!" she tried yelling as his lips covered hers feverishly. He nipped at her lips, running his tongue over her bottom lip before delving inside her mouth as she sputtered and tried turning away, but his hands held her head so that she couldn't, and for several moments he held her hostage there, greedily plundering her mouth. She had frozen, her eyes open and staring at the ceiling, not acknowledging his attentions.
He finally broke away for air, leaving her panting and terrified underneath him, watching him warily. His hands ran down her figure, greedily taking in what he had dearly missed.
"Malfoy, please," she said, her voice shaking. "Let me go. They'll be looking for me-"
He covered her mouth.
"I've missed you," he muttered softly, trailing his lips down her neck, sucking and biting hard on her skin as she shook her head to try and rid herself of his smothering hand.
He tore open her robe with the aid of magic.
"Please!" Hermione cried, her words muffled, fighting tears back. "Stop!" When he didn't move, she calmed her mind as best as she could and focused on attempting wandless magic, knowing it was a faint hope, but all she had.
Expelliarmus! she thought frantically as he began kissing her neck once more.
With a startled cry, Malfoy flew off of her and landed on his back some feet away. Not caring if he had hit his head or not, Hermione attempted to jump up before she was yanked back by her arms, which were still bound to the floor.
Relashio! she thought with all her might, but nothing happened. She heard Malfoy swear and get up and she trembled with fear, screwing her eyes shut and focusing as best as she could on freeing herself.
He was back on her before she could, livid, wrapping his hands around her throat, murder in his eyes.
"Stop fighting me," he growled at her, straddling her again as she fought to buck him off. "This is going to happen. Accept it."
She shook her head weakly.
The darkness was coming again, spotting her vision as her body weakened from lack of oxygen.
Her lungs screamed for air. Her open mouth tried to suck it in, but achieved nothing. A strange clicking sound emitted from her throat. She feebly shook her head again, her eyes closing without her wanting them to. Her legs jerked briefly in a last attempt to save herself, to plea for air.
How could I have been so stupid? She asked herself, surprised to find how her own voice inside her head was growing fainter and fainter. At least I'm dying. I'd rather die than let him take me.
Swearing, Draco loosened his hold and cradled her head, watching as it turned limply to the side, her eyes shut. For a precious second he was horrified, thinking he had killed her, and panicked, he checked her pulse.
She wasn't dead. Draco sighed shakily, and silently berated himself for having lost control. He could still feel the faintest pulsing underneath his hands. As he watched, she began to breathe again, drawing in hoarse, whistling breaths that began to restore the color in her cheeks.
"Ron?"
Ron looked up from his stance at the cashier, where he was paying for his purchases.
"Yeah, mate?"
"It's been longer than an hour and a half. We need to go get Hermione."
"She's fine, mate," Ron chuckled as he grabbed his bag of sweets and stowed it inside his pocket.
"Probably, but it's getting dark out, and it's almost time to go back to the castle," Harry said, fighting the urge to run outside the shop and look for his girlfriend.
Something didn't feel right.
They made their way as quickly as they could to the area by the Shrieking Shack but didn't find Hermione.
"She mentioned benches. There's never been benches in this area." Why hadn't they caught on to that earlier? ...and why had she lied?
"Reckon she went off somewhere?" Ron asked, looking around.
The sense of dread was growing stronger. Harry quelled the panic rising up his throat and looked around fervently before something caught his eye.
Footsteps.
He nudged Ron, and the two took a closer look. The path leading to the shack was made of light dirt, and the rain from before had formed puddles in the form of feet that led up to the ugly building.
He easily recognized Hermione's footprints, but the larger ones baffled him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up.
Without a word, he and Ron sprinted up the path.
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
She breathed, breathed, breathed again, more deeply each time as she filled her system with the much-needed oxygen. Some of it caught in her throat and she coughed, her thin body shook weakly.
Lips covered her own and tears spilled from her eyes once she opened them.
She was not dead.
He was still here.
"I'm sorry, sweetling," he murmured into her lips, "but you need to accept that you're mine. The sooner that happens the easier this will go."
She couldn't speak yet so she shook her head, frowning deeply at him.
"Still so damn stubborn," he said angrily, and she flinched, involuntarily bucking her hips as she tried to scuttle backward.
Her body accidentally came into contact with his and he groaned, rolling his hips into her crotch as he sucked on her neck again.
She let out a hoarse cry of alarm when he began to unbutton her jeans, biting and licking her collarbone, sucking on the swell of her breast. Her top was dealt with just as quickly-he grabbed hold of her jumper and yanked it open so that the buttons holding it closed popped off and skittered across the floor.
"Don't!"
"I just want a taste before I take you home," he said, as if that was meant to reassure her.
"Please," she rasped as he lowered her bra cup and began to suck on her nipple, all while still rocking his hips sensuously into hers, and his other hand attacked her other breast.
"Keep begging," he said. "What do you want? Shall I claim you once and for all right here and now? Is that why you're begging?" he pulled on her nipple with his teeth, earning a sharp cry from her. She could feel his arousal growing against her thigh, and she clamped her lips shut to hold back the vomit that was crawling up her throat.
"No!" she said, squirming to avoid his touch. "Don't touch me!"
"Let me have my fill," he ordered, his breath hot against her breast. "I've gone for months thinking about you. Dreaming of you. Waiting for the day I'd have you at last."
His other hand crawled down her abdomen.
"I don't care how long you've suffered," she snapped, but sucked in a shocked breath when his fingers brushed against her core, covered by her underwear.
"Shut up, Granger," he murmured, licking at her jaw.
She drew in a deep breath and screamed for all she was worth when he began to prod his finger inside of her. Malfoy actually winced and it goaded her on, to bellow as best as her body would allow, to bypass the pain and the fear and alert anyone nearby. She fancied she could feel her ribs rattling inside her with the force of her screaming but she didn't care if it would leave her hoarse for a week if it worked, and she knew chances were slim. Already her throat was burning and felt so raw that it hurt to whisper let alone scream, but she had to take advantage of the fact that Malfoy had not silenced her yet, and that the exit door was still open a crack. She screamed so loudly, she didn't hear the commotion exploding around her.
The floor vibrated underneath her, and Malfoy swore as footsteps were heard coming up the stairs in a terrible racket.
Suddenly her arms were free, and she stopped screaming to pull in more air as she scrambled to escape the dark wizard.
He wasn't having that, however. He hauled her up, wrapped one arm around her neck and dragged her to the back of the room just as Harry and Ron burst into the room, wands raised and bloodlust on their faces.
"Hermione!" Harry cried at the same time as Ron let out a cry of outrage upon seeing the half-conscious witch struggling to breathe as her attacker tightened his hold on her. Harry's face reddened with anger as he took in the state she was in; her torn blouse, revealing more skin than he would have liked to see. Her jeans were unbuttoned and pulled down a bit, revealing a sliver of skin and her panties. His eyes trailed up and he saw all the marks and blood on her skin and he began to shake with rage. She was so pale she looked like a ghost-her eyes were haunted and full of fear.
"Hello, Potter," Malfoy said, sneering, and Harry almost did a double-take, having focused immediately on Hermione's state and barely on the wizard who held her upright.
The last time Harry had seen him, he had been triumphant, a self-satisfied smirk on his face as he'd watched Dumbledore's corpse fall from the Astronomy Tower, his form illuminated by the quickly fading green light from the killing curse he had cast. There was an eerie quality to his eyes that Harry hadn't remembered from before-had that always been there? He looked the same and yet so different, it was hard to place. And frightening, though he would never admit it.
No wonder Hermione looked so shell-shocked.
Her nightmares. They had come true. And again, he hadn't been able to help her until it was too late.
That bloody bastard.
"Let her go, Malfoy, or I swear I'll kill you," Harry said, his arm shaking as he leveled it at Malfoy.
"You wouldn't dare make a move as long as I've got this pretty little bird in my grasp," Malfoy taunted, pressing Hermione closer to himself. "You wouldn't want to hurt her, now would you?"
"Harry!" Hermione pleaded, trying to pry Malfoy's constricting arm from around her throat. "Just do it!"
"Shh!" Malfoy hissed, and with a jab of his wand, she was mute, sobbing as he gripped her jaw forcefully.
"Put your wands down," he barked at the two Gryffindors. "Do it or I apparate now and take her with me!"
Without hesitation, Harry and Ron dropped their wands on the floor and kicked them to the farthest corner of the room, glaring mutinously as Malfoy as they did so.
"That's better."
Hermione dug her fingers into his arm, not caring in the least that her nails were tearing through his skin, leaving bloody marks.
"Don't fight me, Granger," he warned, never taking his eyes off Harry and Ron.
She only scratched harder, wrestling against his hold.
"Keep that up, love, and I'll summon the Dark Lord," he threatened. "You want it to end it all like that? I'll oblige you. You're ending up with me either way."
Hermione's eyes widened and she ceased her attack at once. Harry and Ron made as if to move forward, but Malfoy turned to them quickly, brandishing his wand.
"Do not move," he growled.
"Malfoy, just let her go," Harry said. "She hasn't done anything to you. Take me instead."
"You've no right to make a bargain, Potter," Malfoy spat. "I'm in control here."
He fisted Hermione's curls and drew her head back again, exposing her throat and all the marks he had left on her skin.
"You two are going to stand there and do nothing and let me take my prize, and then you get to go on your merry way with your sorry lives intact. How does that sound?"
Harry clenched his fists.
Malfoy smiled.
"I see you understand your predicament. Smart of you."
Just to rub it in, Malfoy brought his nose to Hermione's throat and inhaled her scent, brushing his lips over her skin. Hermione shuddered with repulsion and gasped when he suddenly whirled her around to face him, wrapping his arms tightly around her.
"What's wrong, Potter?" Malfoy asked Harry, whose fists were clenched so tightly, his fingernails were digging into his flesh, drawing small beads of blood, and his face was red with rage. But his expression was clear and stony; he knew Malfoy was taunting him, trying to provoke him to fight. If he made one move, Hermione would be in grave danger.
Ron was seething, he was absolutely livid and beyond. But one look from Harry was all it took to keep him still. He'd messed up too many fights by raging in. And this wasn't his battle anyway. But he took one look at Hermione, who was shaking and white as a bone and had blood on her face, and it set him to boiling again.
"You don't look all that angry that I've got your girl," Malfoy remarked, bringing his hands down to Hermione's bum and squeezing it painfully. Hermione tried to turn away but couldn't; he was holding her so tightly that as a result, she was pressed against his body and her arms were trapped at her sides. She could barely move.
She was dimly aware that Malfoy was speaking, most likely he was trying to provoke Harry, but she had to intervene before Harry made a move. Surely Malfoy had not been joking about summoning Voldemort. One wrong move from any of them and it was game over.
She didn't have her wand, she suspected it was lying on the floor somewhere. She wouldn't waste time trying to use wandless magic. Her last attempt at it had been futile and look where she was now. No, this situation called for Muggle tactics.
Malfoy's voice broke into her train of thoughts.
"I guess you won't mind if I have another taste right now. A parting gift, so you'll have that memory once we've gone."
She looked up in alarm and he crushed his lips against hers, making a point to show Harry that he was using tongue. He was bending her backward, intensifying the kiss as she tried to get away. She opened her eyes and caught Harry's eye, shaking her head slightly at him as he began to lunge for his wand. She sent him a pleading look with her eyes, wincing as Malfoy bit her lips. Harry and Ron, confused but trusting her, didn't make a move.
As soon as Malfoy began to pull away, grinning viciously, Hermione reared her head back and then snapped it forward to smash her forehead against his. It worked. And it hurt. A lot. She felt dizzy immediately, but with the last of her strength and balance, she raised her knee and jammed it between his thighs for good measure.
He let her go abruptly, howling with pain and rage as she fell backward again and scurried away from him on her elbows and feet, nearly sobbing with hysteria. Harry and Ron rushed to her, wands at the ready as they helped her up gently.
But at feeling their hands on her, she panicked and tripped over her trainers, falling hard onto her bum as she scooted backward, covering herself up with the torn remnants of her jumper. Harry's heart broke at seeing her react in that manner, but at the same time, a roar of hatred sprang up from somewhere inside him, demanding blood.
He and Ron turned just in time to hear the crack of apparition as Malfoy made his getaway.
"NO!" Harry roared, and Ron shot an 'Incarcerous' at the small flash where Malfoy's cloak had just whirled out of sight.
He couldn't believe it. They had let him escape.
"Fuck!" Ron hissed, ramming his fist into the wall, which gave way under his brutal knuckles. Plaster rained down onto the floor.
Harry stood there, staring at the spot as hate and guilt raged inside his mind.
In a moment, he came to and rushed to Hermione. Ron was already with her, kneeling beside her as she leaned against the wall. Her face was drained of color, the blood from the cuts on her forehead and lip had dried, and he spotted several bruises in a ring around her neck. She wasn't moving, and her eyes were closed. He dropped to his knees, taking her hands in his. They were warm but stiff.
"She's just fainted," Ron said quietly, and Harry's shoulders sagged with relief.
Without another word, Harry gently picked her up, carrying her bridal style out of the room.
"Thank Merlin we got here just in time. We need to get her to the Hospital Wing now." Ron sighed, picking up their wands from the floor. "We would attract way too much attention if we went out like this. The passageway that leads from here back into the school; it hasn't been blocked, has it?"
"Let's find out," Harry said, and they ran in search of the right door.
