All related to Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling.
Remember the warnings. They apply for this chapter. Remember what I've said over and over about this story.
Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Deal
"Lost be found
I'm a bloodhound, born for seeking
Poor prey, you must be tired
Stood your ground
But your airtight drums were bleeding
And now it's all on fire"
Lie to Me-Sara Bareilles
The package was on her bed when she came back inside from another walk around the garden. Harry, Ron, Ginny and the twins had stayed outside to play a bit of Quidditch. Mr. Weasley was off at the Ministry and Mrs. Weasley was at Bill and Fleur's. There was not much sun that day, grey clouds hung over the sky, blocking out its warmth, to Hermione's displeasure. She had come inside to grab a cardigan, but paused upon catching sight of the mysterious small brown parcel on her bed.
She rushed to it, expecting more news from Tonks and Mad-Eye. Since there had been no further progress on the finding of her parents, Hermione decided it would be better if she looked for them herself. She was secretly pleased that she had hidden them so well; it proved she had done at least something right before all had gone to pieces. A few days prior she had sent a letter to the pair with the request to join them in their search. A dispute had followed; no one was keen on the idea of Hermione going so far out while she was still recovering, but Hermione stayed resolute and it was agreed Tonks and Mad-Eye come to the Burrow at the end of the week to take her and Harry with them (for Harry had insisted he go along too).
Their departure was still days away but Hermione had packed already. Her trunk had been returned to her from Hogwarts after the cleanup had ended. It was good to have her own clothes again instead of having to wear the unnecessary lavish gowns she'd been forced to wear at the Manor, or Ginny's clothes, all which were a little too small on her.
Focusing on the strange parcel, Hermione frowned. There was no writing on the outside. No address, no mention of who had sent it. Could it be from Mrs. Weasley? But she was not at the Burrow. Again, there was the possibility it could be from Tonks and Mad-Eye but there would have been a return address and she had no clue what they could send her that wasn't a note, unless her miniaturized parents had been placed inside this parcel. It couldn't be for Harry, since it was on her bed.
Well, the only thing to do was open it. So she picked it up, forgetting about her cardigan.
The second she touched it a shiver ran through her. Hermione paid it no mind, there was a draft coming in from the door behind her, which she had left open so she dismissed it and pulled the brown wrapping paper apart to unearth a small, sturdy little box. It was black and plain, but with a darker ribbon holding it shut. Hermione frowned. What was this? Had Harry done this?
Rather suddenly, her left hand jerked away, the remnants of a stinging pain fading fast. It had come from the ring, she was sure of it. Hermione scowled at it, but then looked farther down and noticed the bleeding paper cut just above her knuckle.
It was more gratifying to think this little injury was the true culprit, so she pressed the back of her hand against the rough fabric of her jeans and rubbed.
To prevent any further accidents she discarded the paper into the waste bin and walked over to the center of the room, holding the strange little box. In a fluid motion she pulled the ribbon off the box and removed the lid. Another wrapped little package lay inside, smaller than her palm. Brown and lumpy, it was folded over with a small square of rough fabric, something a House Elf might wear.
I hope this isn't one of Fred and George's tricks, she thought before taking it out and unwrapping it, holding the piece in one hand and the cloth in the other.
The object that now lay in her palm took her a moment to identify. Were the object its regular colour and still attached to where it belonged she would have recognized it faster but as it was, the little memento was nearly unrecognizable until she gave it a closer look and a split second later she jumped back so violently and the box, the cloth and the little lump fell onto the floor with a small clatter and a mute thud.
Hermione reached to cover her gaping mouth with her hands but remembering what she had just touched, stared at them in shock. No blood stains met her there, but in a fit of panic she flung her hands to her sides, looking at the severed human ear lying on the floor before her.
She pulled out her wand, almost dropped it. It took two tries for her 'Scourgify' to work she was stammering so.
What kind of sick joke is this?
Her gaze caught on the ear again, then traveled to the upturned box, underneath which lay a piece of parchment. She bent down, pushed the box aside, and picked up the note.
With every word she read her dread took root inside her, anchoring her feet to the ground and spreading like wildfire inside her. She was incapable of thought; the fear eclipsed everything inside her. Her hand went slack upon finishing reading its contents but the note refused to slip down to the floor, apparently determined to hold on to her for as long as possible, just like the man who had penned it.
Darling wife, the note read.
Do not think me ignorant as to what you are doing, what you plan to do. You know me better than any other; did you really think you could get rid of me so easily? Sweet little bird, I'm sure you remember what I told you about the spells on that ring. Did you truly think it was me you killed, or did you allow yourself to believe what you so wanted to believe for the sake of comfort? It grieved me to see how improperly you mourn my death, but it makes no matter now.
I know you touched him. I saw it all, ma fleur. You will not do it again. I also know you are looking to find a way to get the spells taken off your ring. It's a pity all the Curse Breakers are 'busy'. Remember my promises, darling. I have always kept them and do not think to stop now. I do not give up what is mine easily.
You called me a monster once. I am willing to prove that is not entirely true. I ran into a friend of yours the other day, returning from America. He is with me now-a little hard of hearing but in good health. If you wish me to be merciful with him and yourself as well as the friends you are with now, you will surrender yourself to me tonight.
I will be waiting outside. Should you fail to appear I will return home and send you more of him, piece by piece and when there is nothing left I will return here and start on the others who so graciously took you in. If you don't want me harming them you will come back to me without breathing a word of this to anyone.
Signed,
Your devoted husband
Hermione remained perfectly still, as if she had locked eyes with a Gorgon and had turned to stone. Even now she could feel his eyes on her, burning into her skin and she shivered, turning round to the window with her wand raised. There was no one there but she cast one protective enchantment after another until she was out of breath, her knees shook so badly she had to hold herself up against the dresser.
The note, which had at last fallen to the floor triumphant, burst into flame and she watched it crumble into cinders, scorching the wood floor before going out.
She saw now how idiotic it had been for her to allow herself to believe he truly had disappeared from her life.
He had never gone, not really. How had he managed it? How? How? She had said the incantation properly, she had seen the green light tear through him, could point out the moment his eyes went glassy with death.
Remember my promises, darling.
There was bile on her tongue. She was finding it hard to breathe. Of course she remembered. She had been trying to forget them since she'd escaped.
Not only that, he also knew about Harry. How? Had he been watching? Instantly her arms wrapped around herself, shielding her body with barriers of flesh and bone.
I saw it all…
A hiccup escaped her and Hermione clenched her wand tighter. Oh, he would be so very angry with her. Hermione shuddered.
The worst part was, he had been right, if only just a little.
She had been lying to herself this whole time. But she had desperately needed to believe it, had she not? She had needed to see her friends again-but her family-they still had not been found.
Hermione knew with certainty she would never see them again.
A low, desperate wail lodged itself in her throat but she clamped her lips shut, tried squaring her shoulders.
It was better that way, wasn't it? Hot tears filled her eyes. Better for them not to remember having a daughter than to live the rest of their lives with the burden of a disappeared daughter weighing heavy on their hearts.
Hermione cleared away what was left of the note, and discarded the rest of the package. The sight of the ear made her stomach churn-it was lucky she had not eaten anything during breakfast.
So he had found Neville. Worry for her friend gnawed at her and she wondered what damage Draco might have done to him already. Sweet, loyal Neville-her closest friend aside from Ron and Harry and Ginny. Why had Draco wanted him so badly? She remembered the threats he'd made towards Neville and trembled, hoping none had been acted out yet.
But he wouldn't. The note had been Draco's promise. He would spare Neville if she went to him.
That was what she would do. It was the only way. Though she had decided on this already her mind kicked up other ways she might be able to take him down-but the ideas hit a brick wall every time.
There's no way out.
Hermione retrieved the bit of cloth from the bin and wrapped the ear again, tucking it out of sight behind a lamp. There was nothing she could do for it. She would have to bury it later.
She would never see Harry again, nor Ron or any of the others. She would never set foot inside Hogwarts again. She had been branded as a dead woman from the moment Draco first set eyes on her. She would never live again.
There was a low, seductive voice in her mind, telling her to just forget about Neville.
'Forget about your friends and think about yourself for once, Hermione.' Blaise's voice floated back to her, and she frowned. She still had not been able to find him. She prayed he was safe now, wherever he was.
But Neville could not be left to suffer. Hermione had to go back, and she would-she was as sure of this as she was positive she would not let Draco have a complete victory over her.
An idea had resurfaced. An unpleasant, depressing idea that had frightened her so much the first time it had come to her that she had pushed far back into the darker corners of her mind, but there was a glimmer of hope that it would work, and that was all she had left.
There wasn't much time left. Draco's note boasted patience but she knew well his wrath would grow the longer she took.
Hermione fled in search of Harry.
She chose to do it. She fought through the pain, ignoring it to focus on the pleasure instead. Their hands roamed over each other; lips pressed together feverishly. Just as before, Hermione straddled him, using what she had learned from the love potion to gain her own pleasure now. Underneath her, Harry had thrown his head back, green eyes locked onto hers as they moved together.
The ring burned and throbbed, she strained with the effort to not cry out from the pain of it all. It was a slow, agonizing torture that grew and grew with every passing moment she touched him but he was inside her and that left her bereft of breath at how good it felt. He held onto her and she let him, focusing on moving in just the right way that made her gasp out loud and clench him harder.
Draco would be furious but Hermione didn't care, not anymore. He could punish her all he wanted but Hermione would have this to cling on to; she would give herself this. This would be a memory she would take with her when she walked back into hell; this would give her strength. She was here now with Harry. He loved her and she him; he had asked, not taken this from her and she had said yes. She had made that decision and Draco could never take that away from her.
Harry caught her eye, he gave her an inquisitive look, looking first at her and then down to the mattress, then back up. Hermione hesitated, stilling herself, and then nodded.
The second he settled himself over her Hermione's hands snapped upwards to clench at his shoulders as if to push him away. Harry drew back instantly but Hermione shook her head, taking several seconds to slow her breathing and relax her limbs before pulling him back.
He moved slowly, not wanting to agitate her, and with the sliding whisper of flesh against flesh he settled her underneath him, holding her face between his hands lovingly. Their noses nearly touched, and again he looked her in the eye with a question in his eyes, to which she nodded again, tipping her chin up to kiss him as he pushed inside her again.
Each thrust was gentle and slow, his eyes never wavered from hers, her nose nudged against his cheek each time he pushed forward. A heat rose in her cheeks and spread down to the rest of her, Hermione gripped his sides tight, closed her eyes and groaned deeply, drawing him closer to her, as close as possible. Harry shuddered and began to move faster, but still took care he was not hurting her.
This was love, she thought to herself, blinking back tears as he plunged inside her; deep and slow, deep and slow. Not that farce Draco had made her drink. Unless luck intervened soon, it was likely the last time she would ever experience it. It was getting to be too much, the pain was eating her alive but she looked past it and pretended it was not there, and focused on what felt good. Restless, her legs moved around, fingers pressed deeper into flesh. With a choked exhalation of breath she felt herself come apart seconds before Harry, and it was then that the pain took her whole.
It was blinding, the pain. So strong she couldn't even move, couldn't speak-everything went black, and she felt her body flare white hot with pain so great she had to clench her teeth to keep from screaming but it was gone in seconds and she took in a great breath of air, and raised herself up on her elbows, blinking hard to get the fuzzy spots out of her vision. Her body was shaking, she wasn't sure if it was from the orgasm or the pain. The ring had grown too hot, Hermione half expected it to melt off her skin but nothing happened. It was obvious Draco knew what had happened but she didn't care.
Harry hadn't noticed. Good. He had grabbed his wand from the bedside table to clean away the mess they'd made before settling back on the bed beside her.
"Did I hurt you?"
"Not once."
They lay in comfortable silence. The whole Burrow was quiet, everyone had gone to sleep hours ago. Harry had cast a Silencio around the room to keep their actions private. Hermione curled into Harry's side, letting him wrap an around her, softly nesting in her hair.
He was beginning to fall asleep. Hermione would let him, but first she had something to say.
I love you. Thank you for taking care of me. Forget about me soon and be happy. Tell the others I love them and I'm sorry. I don't want to go…
There was so much she could have said, so much she wanted to say, but there was no time, and Harry was already asleep. His wand lay beside him-Hermione picked it up and performed a simple sleeping charm that would ensure he would not wake before she was gone.
The bed creaked as she stood and pulled a sheet over Harry, up to his waist. He'd fallen asleep with his glasses on; she picked them up and placed them on the bedside table before heading to the loo. When she came back out she headed straight to her trunk. The ring still pulsed angrily on her finger, still hot. She could almost feel Draco's rage emanating from it.
Her hands weren't shaking, she noticed. Funny, she didn't feel all that frightened either. The initial horror the note had inspired in her had fled almost as quickly as it had come.
She had to hurry.
Hermione put on the first things she found in her trunk. It was hot out but she pulled on more layers than necessary. Her wand was left where it was on the dresser-she ran a hand over it sadly. It was better to leave it here. She had no doubt Draco would snap it in half the moment he got a hold of it.
She cast one final look to Harry before leaving the room. The urge to kiss him was almost irresistible but she restrained herself, and wiping at the moisture running down her cheeks, she left the room.
She wished she could have at least said goodbye to everyone else. When Mrs. Weasley had come back home Hermione had embraced her and thanked her for all she had done for her. Hermione had spent some time with Ron, too-they had sat together without saying anything and she had nearly broken down when he hugged her before going to bed. Hermione and Ginny had brushed their teeth together, Ginny giggled when Hermione accidentally got toothpaste in her hair, and Hermione had wanted to say something to her, slip out a subtle I love you and I'll miss you, but Ginny would have suspected something was up.
Hermione couldn't quite decide if it was worse to be able to say goodbye or to leave suddenly. Both options were undesirable for her but she had no choice. She had to make a stop to the kitchen before leaving. A note bearing only the words 'thank you' and 'I'm sorry' was left on the table. She regretted the short length of the message, but what else could she say? For their safety she kept it short, but still felt as though she had torn out her own heart and attached it to the little slip of parchment with a knife.
The kitchen was silent and dark. Hermione fancied she could hear the breathing of everyone inside the house if she concentrated hard enough, but there were things to be done so she located the cabinet quickly and moved to it swiftly.
After stepping outside the house, Hermione decided to take some time to cast protective enchantments around the place. Draco had said he would not harm them but she was not going to take any chances. Even if he could get through them at least the occupants inside would have time to flee.
Another thing-she took Neville's ear out of her pocket, wrapped again in the brown cloth, and buried it by some overgrown shrubs.
Even now, as she stood outside, that insidious voice spoke up again.
You don't have to do it, it whispered. Stay and live a happy life with Harry. Marry him. Grow old together.
But then Draco would come after all of us, not just me, she thought, shaking her head. He would kill Neville. And then he might kill me.
The voice continued to whisper but Hermione quelled it as best as she could and began to walk. It was better to end this as quickly as possible. Sure, she felt calm now but she did not know how long it would last. If she stayed any longer she would lose her nerve and go back to Harry.
The air outside was hot and damp. Stars winked above her from between the gaps in the clouds that stretched up in the dark sky. Hermione did not know where to go.
He could be anywhere. He could be following me, or watching me right now.
Making up her mind, Hermione decided to walk straight in one direction, and she did accordingly. She had not gone too far from the home when she felt the ring was pulling her in a certain direction. It wasn't her hand leading her; it was simply the strange compulsion to turn and head in another direction.
She could feel when she was getting closer. Hermione wanted to yell-enough of this, I'm here-but it was not in her to yell. The silence of the night pressed in around her, flattening her lungs.
It wasn't much later that she felt the peculiar sensation of walking through a ward, and suddenly Draco stood before her where previously there had been nothing. She stopped at once though the strange force beckoned her to get closer, and Hermione shut her eyes immediately to avoid meeting his eyes. She did not want to know if an expression of smug triumph or fury would meet her.
Her nerve had stayed with her long enough; she felt its absence keenly as her hands and feet turned cold though she herself was sweating through her protective layers.
Feeling him come closer, Hermione flinched away, damning herself for not staying still. His hand tipped her face up, but her eyes remained closed.
Breathing was almost impossible; he was coming even closer. The heat coming from him was incredible; she felt herself scorched by his presence. Then it was his hot breath rushing against her neck, his nose barely grazed against her jaw line as he took deep breaths, inhaling the scent of her skin along the curve of her neck and shoulder. Hermione shivered, but held herself still. When he spoke, his voice came out a growl.
"I can smell him on you."
She said nothing. This was her own gift to him. This was her message.
You will never own me. You never did. No one controls me.
Warm, wet, greedy, his tongue tasted her.
"I can taste him on you."
Hermione stayed silent.
"You must really want Longbottom to suffer, then," came his light remark, and her eyes flew open. She had not thought about that. Dread coiled inside her, and she spoke at last.
"I am here," she said quietly, fighting the tremors that threatened to overtake her body. "I surrender. Leave Neville out of it."
Their gazes clashed together; earth against ice.
"And?" he prompted coldly.
She bowed her head.
"I am yours," her voice was dull. "You win."
He caught her chin in his firm grip, forcing her eyes to meet his.
"You'll never leave me again."
"Never."
His thumb rubbed along her bottom lip.
"You've learnt your lesson well, petit coeur. Though I'm not sure I believe you. After all, you still let him touch you." He crooked the joint of his thumb, pushing down on her bottom lip, opening her mouth. "You forget you are married to me, not him."
"You forget I was never willing."
He ignored this. "Did you perchance forget when I told you were never to touch any other? No man, no woman," he hissed. "I am yours and you are mine exclusively."
With a snap of his fingers she was stripped of her clothing. Hermione instantly covered herself with her hands, not meeting Draco's eyes, who honed in on her body, taking in every mark Harry had left.
"I hope you enjoyed it," he said. "By tomorrow the only scent on your skin will be mine." His eyes lingered on the redness of the tender skin on her chest, which had not yet completely faded from earlier.
"I did enjoy it," Hermione said scathingly. "I loved it. He asked for my consent. He didn't threaten or hit or ignore me when I said no. I loved every second of it."
Draco glared at her and said nothing for a moment. Hermione knew the danger she had put herself in by saying those words but found she didn't care.
"Where is your wand?" he asked abruptly.
"I left it inside the house."
"Good."
There was a pause as he stared at her shielding her body from his view, struggling to not break down before him.
"There's no use covering yourself, sweetling," he said, coming forward to cup her cheek gently in his palm. "I've seen all of you so many times already, or have you forgotten? I've half a mind to take you right here, but it would be more prudent to wait until we're back home."
Hermione twitched at the word 'home'. He smirked, snapped his fingers once more, and she was fully clothed again. Hermione let her hands drop slowly.
In past instances Draco would hold out his hand to her before they went anywhere. Now, he stepped forward and seized her with one arm and there was a loud Crack, and the next thing Hermione knew she was back inside his bedroom.
She backed away but he followed.
"How did you do it?" she asked. "I killed you. You were dead."
"And here I was beginning to think you would never ask," he said with a malicious smile.
"How?"
"You did kill me," he said with a twitch in his mouth but there was no sign of amusement in his eyes. "At least, you killed someone who looked exactly like me. The Polyjuice is a handy little potion."
All the breath left her lungs.
"No…"
"Yes. Did you really think I would be so stupid as to leave your wand where you could grab it?" He sneered. "You should have known better, Hermione. There was your second sign-the first being I never would have wasted time taking you to that hovel. I would have broken your wand the moment I grabbed it from you and Apparated us directly to the manor."
"Then who-"
"It was your little savior whose life you cut short that day, not mine," he said with a hint of triumph in his tone, and Hermione felt all the blood drain from her face. "I was all for killing him myself once I found out what he had done, but decided that was no fun. Why kill him directly when I could get you to do it to teach you a lesson? See, I remembered what you told me after I asked if you had enjoyed killing me in your dream. So once I found him I fed him some Polyjuice and a couple of my hairs and none was the wiser. Placed him under the Imperius and had him find you and follow you about until he could get you away without anyone noticing."
"No-You're lying!"
"I have the body, sweetheart. I could show it to you if you like, but it wouldn't really prove anything since he still looks like me."
"I was waiting right outside to come in the moment you killed him. Right as it happened I was getting ready to enter. I could hardly wait to see the look on your face. I was ready to take you home where you would be safe; I thought killing Blaise was enough punishment for you. Flitwick found and disarmed me before I could come in-I was furious-even more so when I heard you Apparate away." He laughed. "The little fool thought he could take me. Not all wizards need a wand to cast the killing curse, you know."
Hermione clutched her stomach. "Gods…"
"Running into Longbottom was pure coincidence, really. 'The cherry on top of the sundae', as the Americans put it."
"What did you do to him?" She demanded. "Is he alright?"
"Save for his ear, there isn't a scratch on him."
Hermione gave him a mutinous look and he laughed.
"How else was I to get you to come to me willingly, darling bird?"
"Stop calling me that. I hate when you call me that."
"You also hate when I touch you. Has that stopped me before?"
"Yes," she snapped. "Or have you forgotten?"
He laughed. "So I have. All the same," he approached her, and pressed Hermione against the wall with his body. "You are my precious little bird and I am determined to keep you for my own. If I have to break your wings to make sure you never fly away then so be it."
"You're frightening me," she said, trying to push him away.
Draco grabbed her wrists and leaned in for a kiss which she avoided by turning her head.
"Take me to Neville," she said. "You promised you would let him go if I came to you."
He said nothing for a moment, then pushed away to walk to the door.
"So I did."
He did not need to beckon for Hermione to follow him. As fast as her shaking legs would allow, she went after him, who had already left the room and made his way to the living room. When she entered the room he was waiting by the fireplace, his cold eyes glittering as he watched her walk to him.
The tall fireplace was made of white marble. Nothing decorated it; it was plain as the wall behind him. But Draco made a movement she didn't quite catch, for she was too busy looking around the room for Neville, and the sound of grating rock made her whirl around just in time to see the back of the empty fireplace raise to reveal a passage behind it.
Hermione's jaw went slack but she clamped her mouth shut and refused to show her amazement. If she had lived here so long and never have known about this, what else could he be hiding in this place?
He nudged her from behind.
"Would you prefer I go first?"
"You're the one with magic."
Draco slipped past her, drawing out his wand.
"Follow me, then. Lumos."
The fireplace was wide enough for both of them to pass through it at once; they bent a little to get through. Hermione thought they would both have to remain stooped over to walk through the rest of the passage but after clearing the fireplace Draco straightened his spine and Hermione followed suit, seeing the passage was as tall as any other in the manse.
"Welcome to the dungeons," he murmured.
Hermione looked around. The walls were plain and made of stone. Except for the light from Draco's Lumos they were in complete darkness.
They walked in silence for a bit of a ways; Hermione wanted to preserve the quiet but there were too many questions on her mind.
"Did any other Death Eaters survive the battle?" This was a question she had not thought to ask Harry before.
"A fair amount."
"They are all in Azkaban then."
"Perhaps, but not for long."
"What do you mean?" she asked, but he gave her a warning glance. His words brought another topic of interest to mind.
"You threatened all the Curse Breakers not to touch my case," she said flatly.
"I have no need for threats with certain types of people, little bird. Gold can be just as effective."
Of course, she thought.
"Did you know your father is dead?" she asked, curious to see his reaction.
"Yes."
"How did it happen?"
"One from your silly little band of rebels caught him unaware, apparently. Took me a while to find out who it was but I found him and I cut him down."
"Who was it?" she asked, fearing the worst.
"That idiot Macmillian."
"He's not an idiot."
"I don't care."
Her jaw snapped shut in anger and Hermione said no more.
The light began to reflect off steel bars, illuminating the dungeons a little bit more as they walked past. There were so many cells; it was too dark to tell which one Neville was in. Hermione was worried he was not the only prisoner she would find, but in the end she was proved wrong when they all appeared to be empty, until Draco stopped at one and Hermione saw two forms inside the cell past the murky darkness.
Once the cell had been opened she pushed past an irate Draco and rushed towards the nearest form, which she could not make out until Draco came closer and pointed his wand down at it.
Hermione reeled back. Draco lay there, lifeless. Seeing those cold, dead eyes made her shiver, but she forced aside the repulsion, knowing who truly laid there.
"Oh no, no, no," she breathed, and stepped closer, kneeling down to hold the stiff, cold hand.
Underneath those cold gray eyes that still held rage and shock inside them, underneath that pale skin and pointed nose was Blaise's true form somewhere. Hermione's eyes filled with tears.
"I'm so sorry, Blaise," she whispered, having forgotten all about the real Draco, who stood beside her, frowning.
Hermione looked up through her tears to glare at Draco. "He was your friend! How could you?"
She could hardly see his cold eyes as he replied, but caught the motion of his indifferent shrug.
"He was until he betrayed me. If he could do it once no doubt he could do it twice. I gave him my trust and he repaid me by stealing my wife."
"He didn't steal me," she hissed scathingly, "He offered me help and I accepted. I left willingly."
"That won't bring him back to life, pet."
He was right. Hermione turned to Draco again.
"Could you at least turn him back to his true form?"
"No. My patience is wearing thin. Go wake your friend."
Hermione folded Blaise's arms over his chest, and tried to smooth his angered brow but it was still Draco who stared up at the ceiling in fury.
Had he been aware in his last moments? Had he tried to signal to her that he was not who he appeared to be?
Gods forgive me, she thought, pressing her lips together. I killed the person who saved me, and all thanks to him.
"Will you bury him?" she asked shakily. He made no answer, and wisely choosing not to pry, Hermione closed his eyes gently with shaking fingers, cast another look of utmost hatred at Draco, and scurried over to Neville, who she could see clearly now in the dim light, slumped in the farthest corner of the cell.
She knelt between his parted thighs, shaking him by the shoulders and tapping his cheeks insistently.
"Neville. Neville? Please wake up."
He stirred; a breath was drawn through his mouth. He turned to the right and Hermione gasped upon seeing the wound from his severed ear. That it had been sanitized was clear, as it had not festered, but it had not been cleaned entirely. Dried blood trailed down from the small gaping hole to the side of his neck.
She turned to Draco.
"Did you heal him thoroughly?"
"Yes."
"Clean him," she demanded. Draco rolled his eyes.
"Hermione?"
She whipped around, taking his face between her hands, taking care not to touch his wound.
"Yes! Yes, Neville, it's me!" she was so happy she could have laughed. Her eyes scanned over him assessing for damage but none other than the missing ear was found.
"Are you okay?" she asked, but his eyes had widened and suddenly he pulled her to sit beside him, shielding her with one arm across her chest, glaring up at Draco.
"What are you doing with him?" Neville asked, more alert now. "You were free, Hermione! Why are you here with him?"
"Believe it or not, she came back to me willingly, Longbottom."
Neville stared at Hermione incredulously.
"Tell him the truth," Hermione hissed.
Draco grinned. "Of course, I did send her a little incentive to make her agree to come."
"My ear. You sent her my ear."
"Obviously."
Neville lunged to his feet and made a grab for Draco.
"NO!" Hermione screamed, doing her best to pull him back.
"You sadistic bastard!" Neville shouted, but could say no more because he was suddenly sent sailing into the bars behind him with a sickening thud.
Draco looked like he was going to cast another spell. Hermione planted herself directly in front of him.
"Don't you dare hurt him! We have a deal!" Draco gave her a warning look, but lowered his hand, and Hermione rushed back to Neville.
Again she knelt at his side, checking for any injury. "Are you alright?"
"Get out of here, Hermione," he said through ground teeth, rubbing his shoulder. Hermione wiped a smudge of dirt from his cheek, brushing the hair from his sweating forehead as Draco watched jealously.
"The only one leaving this residence is you," came Draco's cold voice.
Neville looked at Hermione, compelling her to explain.
"We made a deal," she said. "If I came back he would let you go."
"Leave me, then," Neville said at once. "Leave me here and go back to the Burrow, Hermione."
"I'm afraid that's not for you to decide," Draco cut in angrily. "The deal has been made. Get up before I take it back and let you rot in here."
Hermione helped him stand. She held on to his arm tightly, watching Draco carefully.
"She's suffered enough because of you!" Neville said to Draco. "Leave her alone!"
"There's been suffering, I won't deny," Draco said with a smirk. "But I won't lie and say she hasn't felt pleasure often, either."
"Shut up!" Hermione shouted. "Shut up!"
"I know what you've done to her," Neville said, "And I promise you'll pay for it. Every last thing, Malfoy."
Draco looked bored. "Until that day comes I will look forward to seeing your cold corpse fall to the ground. Now get moving."
He muttered something, and Neville's hands were bound together.
"Just taking precaution," he said at Neville's outraged cry.
They started off on their way out of the dungeons. Hermione began walking with Neville but before they had taken five steps Draco caught hold of her arm and yanked her to his side.
"You're hurting me!" she cried, feeling bold now that Neville was here, if only for a few more minutes. Perhaps once he got back to the Burrow he could tell the others what was happening and send help.
Neville was walking rather slowly. Hermione knew he was doing this intentionally, knew that he too was thinking fast to find a way to help her, and her hope soared.
Draco noticed this too, and crashed Hermione's hopes by saying, "If you don't start walking faster, Longbottom, I'll carry you out myself."
"In a hurry, are you Malfoy?" Neville asked coldly.
"Rather." Draco's arm snaked around Hermione's waist and squeezed. "I've been looking forward to having sex with my wife all day." He laughed. "I suppose I owe you thanks for luring her to me."
Hermione tried to push away but he held fast to her. "No you don't, little bird, you made a deal and now you have to keep your end of the bargain."
"I'll kill you, Malfoy."
"So you've said, Longbottom, but you're the one who is bound and defenseless."
Though both Neville and Hermione kept trying to stall, at length they reached the fireplace and stepped through it. Hermione felt her stomach drop, and felt close to tears. Draco let her go to close the passage, and she immediately went to Neville.
"Don't be angry at me, Neville, please don't. I couldn't let you die here," she said, trying to control the waver in her voice. "Tell the others I'm sorry."
"I'll bring them all," he whispered quickly. "We'll find you and we're going to take you back home."
"This is her home," Draco snarled. He waved his hand and Neville's binds disappeared.
"Don't think to raise any trouble, Longbottom." To Hermione, he said, "Say goodbye to your friend. You won't be seeing him again."
Hermione almost threw herself at Neville, standing on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck tightly. Neville held her fiercely, crushing her with his arms and Hermione wished he would not let go.
Don't leave me, she wanted to say. Take me with you. I love you. Please, please, please help me.
Instead, she whispered, "Be careful," and kissed his cheek.
"We're going to bring you back, Hermione," Neville breathed into her ear, cupping the back of her head. "I promise."
She nodded, resisting the urge to ask him to hurry.
The moment she pulled back Draco clamped a hand down onto Neville's shoulder and steered him to the door.
'Wait for us,' Neville mouthed to her while Draco wasn't looking. Hermione nodded.
"Where will you take him?" Hermione called after him.
"To that hovel your redheaded friends live in," Draco said, then turned back to face her. "Go to the bedroom and wait for me there," he said in a curt tone to her, and her insides turned to ice.
She wanted to call out something else to Neville but the door slammed behind them, leaving her alone in the silence.
Hermione wrapped her arms around herself, unwilling to make her way to the bedroom.
But she had successfully kept herself intact this far out. She could only hope it would stay that way until the end.
Something inside her told her it wouldn't.
"You're a monster," Neville said to Malfoy as they walked down the front steps of the great house.
"So I've been told."
"Just let her go, Malfoy. You can keep me in the cells until I die as long as she goes free."
"The deal wasn't yours to make, Longbottom."
Neville ground his teeth together.
"Where's my wand?"
"You won't get it until we arrive."
"We? You're coming too?"
"Just to make sure of something." Draco pulled something out of his pocket, wrapped in a piece of cloth. Tapping his wand to it, Draco muttered, "Portus," and the item glowed blue.
"We're taking a Portkey?"
"As you see."
Draco held it out to Neville, who touched his finger to the rusty key just as Draco did, and then everything whirled around him, leaving a trail of colours everywhere and the strange pulling sensation behind his navel seemed to yank him forward. He landed on his feet, and took a moment to clear his head before looking round.
Just as promised, the Burrow stood not too far away, darkened by the night.
He turned to face Draco.
"If you touch her again I'll tear you apart," he said, upper lip curling into a sneer.
"Threaten me all you want, Longbottom," Draco said in a calm voice, "I'm still going to fuck her. I'm going to give it to her hard whether she wants it or not. She came back to me willingly to save your sorry arse and now she has to pay the price."
"I'll kill you," Neville breathed, clenching his fists. "She's like a sister to me. You've hurt her so much I can't look at you without thinking up a hundred ways to kill you."
"I encourage you to try," Draco said, smiling, "but you won't get far, I assure you."
Neville tried to lunge at Draco but the blond merely waved his hand and Neville stood frozen where he stood.
"Childish, really," he sneered, drawing out his wand and pointing it at Neville's forehead. "Obliviate."
Hermione nearly jumped out of her own skin when the door to the bedroom opened and Draco stepped through.
He was evidently pleased she had obeyed him, his step was light and quick as he made his way to her, shrugging off his clothing.
Same as before, he pressed her into the wall with his body. Hermione shrank away, shutting her eyes tight, knowing there was no place she could run. His arousal pressed against her and she turned away, shivering as he placed a mocking kiss to her cheek.
"I know you're worried for him but I kept my word, Hermione. He's back with the others by now and I gave him back his wand."
"Thank you," she whispered.
His hands reached down between them and unbuttoned her jeans, pulling down the fly before sliding them down off her hips and down the length of her legs, pulling her underwear along too. Hermione stifled a sob and let him, offering neither help nor resistance as he kicked the garments away, and then began on her cardigan, unbuttoning it slowly before pulling that off, and then her t-shirt and camisole.
This was your choice, a somber voice told her. You gave yourself up.
To save Neville, she thought.
But he can't save you, it replied, and she refused to acknowledge the truth of it.
Draco unhooked her bra, reaching behind her to do it, and tossed it to the side when she was bare before him. Hermione reached to cover herself again, shivering, but he gently pulled her arms away. The glacial tone of his eyes had melted to one of molten lust. Heavy with want, his eyes roamed over her, reacquainting himself with her body.
"I hate you," she said in a trembling voice. "I wish it was really you I killed that day."
Draco shushed her and led her to the bed. Hermione tried pulling away, knowing even that was futile, but he pulled her back and pushed her onto the bed, climbing in after her.
Hermione did not resist when he forced her onto her front and settled himself over her so his chest hovered above her back.
"You won't be able to walk when I'm through with you," he breathed, grabbing her by the hips, pulling her to him. "You won't even be able to crawl, I'd have to carry you everywhere, and don't think I'd take pity on you and leave that gorgeous pussy alone because I won't."
She was shaking so hard, he almost took pity on her. Her body vibrated under his with fear, tense and taut-he had to massage her hamstrings a little before pulling her thighs apart. He crawled between them, waiting for her to clamp them shut before he got too close, but she stayed still, trembling.
Good, he thought.
"I bet Potter was gentle with you," he said. "You don't deserve it. And he doesn't deserve you."
His fingers reached inside her and rubbed her clit, and Hermione pressed her face into the soft sheets, letting the fabric soak up her tears. Her body responded to the stimulus despite her state of mind, she felt the wetness at her core and quickly brought forth the memories of her skin against Harry's, the things they had done only hours ago. Anything to take the focus away from what was happening. He could do whatever he wanted to her but that was something he could never take away from her.
"He doesn't deserve this," he said, giving her a sharp pinch. She jerked away but he held her down. "This is only for me, sweetheart, and it's for your own good that you remember that from now on," he said, positioning himself. "I won't suffer an unfaithful wife."
Her skin crawled at his touch, at knowing what was coming next and despite her efforts her body tensed and she cried out into the mattress when he plunged inside her, slammed her palms against the springy surface. Pain grew inside her and she tried twisting away, tried shutting her legs but he was there, immovable and ignorant to her distress.
Draco's eyes fluttered shut, his head rolled back. How he'd missed her. How he'd missed this. Truly, she had not been gone for that long but he'd grown so accustomed to their life together, so hungry for this, that he'd felt as though she'd been gone for a lifetime. She pulsed around him, muscles clenching in panic. She was hot enough to scorch, but he felt no pain and continued to thrust, ignoring her heartbroken wails.
"I'm going to fuck you until you scream," he moaned, drawing out before slamming back in. Her body was still resisting him but not as much as before, though she had gone slack she was still tense and tight around him and he had to push harder to envelope himself inside her waning heat, savage in his actions. Her eyes shut and she expelled a harsh breath but said nothing as he started to pound. Desperately she tried to imagine herself somewhere else, tried to remember what Harry's hands had felt like rather than Draco's claws. Those hands groped at her backside and then braced themselves on the bed on either side of her body as he settle atop her, his chest pressing into her back. Hermione bit back a scream as he bit into her shoulder, fearing another mark, but it died in her throat hen he released her quickly after. Her skin was inflamed and bore the mark of his teeth, but beheld no injury.
"What would Potter say if he could see you now?" he asked slyly. "Being fucked face down like a dirty little whore. What would he say if he could see how wet you are, how your delicious little body is just begging to be fucked by me?"
"I'm not," she pleaded through her tears. "Just stop!"
He pushed in, harder and she muffled her cry into the blanket beneath her, pressing her palms over her mouth to staunch the out pour of pain and sadness as he renewed his claim on her. He was going about it slowly, grinding his hips against her bottom, one hand on her hip and the other reached forward, grabbing her just underneath the jaw, and forcing her up a little to press against his front. Her back arched because of this and her bottom pressed against him, he was drawn deeper inside her and he groaned hoarsely, digging his fingers into her flesh. His whole body was strung tight, his hands kept clenching into fists and his nerves sang, just by being inside her. His hips began to jerk against hers, hard enough to leave her without breath.
"How did it feel to kill me, my love? I bet you enjoyed it, but I don't think Blaise did."
She sobbed aloud; the guilt felt like it would eat her alive if Draco didn't do it first.
It was agonizing, the pace he was going at. Hermione tried her best to distance herself from what was happening but it wasn't working this time; every time he forced himself back inside her she remembered what-who-she had given up.
Suddenly his weight on her disappeared, the intrusion was pulled from her body, but before Hermione could even think to sigh in relief he was turning her over onto her back with his strong hands. Her arms he pinned down with one hand; the other was heavy, pressing on her stomach as his mouth sealed over her nipple. It hurt to move her legs, so he had an easy time of it holding them apart again. She met his eyes briefly and looked away, frightened of his consuming gaze.
He was using teeth-Hermione winced at the uncomfortable sensations be brought down on her sensitive skin. He sucked hard on her breast, giving sharp bites every now and then that made her jerk underneath him. She had to bite her lips to keep from whimpering in pain.
When he released her from his mouth her skin burned an angry, mistreated red. He was pumping inside her again, rougher than before. The soft flesh of her breasts moved with every push, every forceful thrust, and Hermione turned her head away from his cruel gaze as his voracious mouth attacked her other breast, and then her neck.
Draco made good on his promise. By the time he finished with her she was extremely sore all over, and half dead with exhaustion. Her one act of rebellion had been keeping the screams he desired from him. That had worked until the end, when he'd used magic to hold her down and used his mouth on her, working relentlessly to bring her to an orgasm she desperately did not want. That was when she started to struggle against him but the binds held her down and his tongue continued lavishing unwanted attentions on her. When he'd been satiated enough he'd spent himself to the last of his energy to make her come again. And again. And when he'd finished he'd kissed her, making her taste her own self. . She was tender, burning with pain but his hand took the place of his tongue and she screamed at last when he wrenched that final wave of pleasure out of her, too weak to hold it back. At the end of it all, despite the pains that gripped her all she could feel was a strange, maddening sort of numbness.
"You're mine;" he'd said into her lips, her breasts, into her lower body. "Mine, always."
Not satisfied with her pained silence, he made her repeat it, over and over.
"I'm yours," she had whispered. "Yours." And he had devoured her sad mouth afterwards.
Draco had fallen asleep shortly after, drawing her into his chest with his arms. Hermione resisted but he was too strong, and she was too tired to move anyway. The entirety of her throbbed and burned with pain-the fresh bite on her shoulder bled tiny rivulets of blood that stained his sheets, the tears had dried uncomfortably on her face, his words echoed unwelcome through her mind but she ignored it all. There were only three things that gave her comfort, the first being that her friends were safe, and the second was that Draco had used a Contraceptive Charm (she had been terrified he wouldn't). The last was that he had fallen asleep. Everything had fallen into place and it was time to act before it was too late.
A/N:
One chapter to go. Reviews are extremely appreciated.
I also completely forgot when writing this story about including the Deathly Hallows and the Elder Wand. It's been mentioned in one or two reviews and each time I feel like such a dolt for having forgot something so crucial to the books. But, as I'm sure we are all aware, this fic hasn't followed canon very faithfully. I might or might not add something in (about the Elder wand, anyway).
Also it's not written in there but yes Harry and Hermione used a Contraceptive Charm.
Regards,
Charlotte
