A/N: Thanks to surugasasa, wolften, cordee, tokio2323, dragonjun, SereniteRose, Grovek26, roni2010, sara, princesspglouie and other unnamed guests for their reviews on last chapter. I appreciate your support for this very long story. Thanks for the follows and favourites.
Pleyel is a famous French company who made pianofortes.
For adult theme and crude words, this chapter is rated M (VERY HIGH MATURITY CONTENT).
Disclaimer: The copyright to Harry Potter characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Any other characters are purely work of fiction and any resemblances are co-incidental.
Chapter 76: The Battle of Dracos.
Hermione's eyes lingered on the newly installed pianoforte before she shifted it gaze towards the clock.
It's small and large hands were pointing at the figures of ten and three respectively.
It was quarter past ten in the night.
She looked at the pianoforte again. That particular musical instrument was her most favourite in the world. The one that Audré has installed beside her reading table was an antique piece manufactured by a famous Muggle company: the Pleyels.
"The previous owners of the Château handed papa many of their valuable furniture when he bought this place. It includes three pianos." she had told her when Hermione discovered the new inanimate member in her bedroom, "Two of them are Grand ones. I kept one in my parlour and the other in my formal sitting room. This one, a Pleyel,…" she had run a hand over the shiny wooden frame, "…is too small for either of the places. Such a pity." She had shaken her head sadly and pressed a white key to test the chords which seemed in excellent condition, "It's an antique, Jean and considering its size, I think it is perfect for your room."
To Hermione, who was given piano lessons by her mother and grandmother from an early age, her new pianoforte looked like the one Colonel Brandon had gifted Marianne in the movie Sense and Sensibility. She had watched that movie with her parents who, like her, were avid fans of Jane Austen's literary works.
It had a rectangular body supported by four legs and a pedal stand. All the eighty-eight white and black keys were made of ivory and ebony, a feature that Hermione knew was only found in antique pieces. A wooden lid was covering the keyboard. It should be removed before playing the instrument. Hermione's fingers ached to touch it but her heart was somewhere else.
She checked the clock again.
It was ten thirty and Draco still hasn't returned home.
For her, the conscious her, that should not be a problem but for some inexplicable reason she was feeling tense and uncomfortable.
For one, the man had a pained and lost look on his face when she bade him farewell and returned to Château with Adrian after the lunch. She had felt really bad imagining herself in his place, something she didn't think she was capable of feeling for the man who destroyed her life.
For another, she felt betrayed. Why was she thinking about or worse, worrying about Draco Malfoy, her rapist? Was it someway connected to the unusual and unexplained behaviour of her soul when it forgave and rescued him? Was she was losing her mind and soul? Was she falling for him?
No. she wasn't. She'd prefer to be dead before such a thing ever happened.
No woman in her right mind could ever fall in love with her rapist. That idea was entitled only for those who romanticized the notion that abuse could be a fertile ground for any kind of loving relationship. It was for mentally handicapped people and Hermione Granger, she was proud to proclaim, wasn't one of them.
But that left her in a flummoxed state as to why and what she was feeling for him. Who was this Hermione Granger then? Also the man, who had lied to Adrian about the lack of similarity in their looks, wasn't the Draco she knew. He seemed like a different man. The normal Draco would strive to prove his physical similarities with his son; the abnormal Draco wouldn't. Who was this Draco then?
Hermione checked the clock one last time before asking her son, who was telling his Peter rabbit about the broom ride tenth time in a row, to go to bed.
"Adrian, we have a long day tomorrow." She yawned and stretched her limbs, indicating that she was tired, "Put Peter in bed and brush your teeth."
Surprisingly, this night, unlike the previous one she wasn't intimidated by the prospect of falling asleep. Deep in her heart, she knew her mother would come and protect her soul from flying back to Draco's one.
Her excited son was chatting animatedly about how he was going to recount the broom ride to his friends the next day when the clock finally struck eleven. Hermione smiled and kissed him goodnight before gently nudging him into sleep. The little boy's tired petite form was soon still and he was fast asleep.
In the light of a waning gibbous moon that was flooding through the large window of her bedroom, Hermione laid awake, unable to sleep. Something in her mind was preventing her from uniting her with her much needed slumber.
She was tired and needed sleep but Draco still hasn't come home. She had asked Audré to send her a Patronus on his return and she knew the elderly woman would keep her request.
It was almost twenty minutes past eleven when Hermione left all her hopes and futile attempts of ignoring Draco's thoughts in order to go to sleep and decided to check the matter personally.
What if he has returned stealthily and Audré didn't notice it?
In that case, her last job before going to sleep would be to strangle him and turn him into a pure white ferret.
Disgruntled and sour, Hermione tied her hair into a neat bun before donning a thick cloak that would protect her in the chilly weather of French November nights. She left her bedroom to check on Draco.
The man's suite, the one she always gave a very very wide berth, appeared deserted and unoccupied. Hermione stood before its closed door after casting a non-verbal Homonum Revelio and wondered if she should ask Julian to check the room. She discarded the idea immediately. She wasn't going to have her unexplained concern for Draco misunderstood or worse, considered as a sign of underlying affection.
With trembling hands, she opened the door and peeped in. The sitting room as well as the other ones connected to it were plunged in darkness. She casted the Homonum Revelio spell once again. It produced the same result as before.
Vexed and furious, Hermione closed the door and left for the Château grounds. She was going to thrash the man whenever he returned home from his foul merriments.
Taking the cover of the large bushes and dim light of the moonlit night, Hermione kept a good distance from the apparition point and paced restlessly. Something in her mind told her he wasn't going to take the Floo and she always trusted her instincts. She didn't know where this sense of hers was guiding her to or why she was sure he'd actually come home tonight; she just knew that it was, no matter how much nonsense it sounded, the right thing to do.
She paced and cursed him. The wind blew and the clouds shifted over the moon.
She paced and vowed to get back to him for it.
She paced and cursed herself for her stupidity. She was Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of her age, not some pureblood trophy wife.
She paced and checked her watch one last time after which she decided to go to Audré and send for Draco when a figure finally materialized on the apparition point.
Hermione froze.
It was a male one and from the shape and stature she could tell that it was no one but the man she had been waiting for last two hours in a chilly night of early November: Draco Malfoy.
As she watched, the man staggered and fell on the grounds, seemingly unable to stand on his feet.
"So he's drunk!" Hermione thought furiously and gripped her wand tightly, fighting over the impulse to turn him into a filthy slug, "How ridiculous of me to wait for a drunkard." Her nostrils flared in self-reproach.
She wanted to run to him and scream her throat raw. She wanted to bring Adrian and show him how this man was lying to him and using his innocence to gain his means. She wanted to bring the entire Château down and drag him before the Family Council for such inebriated acts. She wanted to do many things but she did none. Something in her prevented it.
So she stood there, hiding behind a large hibiscus bush and watched him silently.
The man grasped a place over his left shoulder and let out a muffled cry of pain. He then scrambled to his feet and wobbling horribly, started for the Château.
'What the hell is wrong with him?' Hermione thought, as she started following him like a silent shadow, 'Is he hurt?'
For the same unknown reasons she had been waiting for Draco, she wanted to go and check on the matter. But she rebuked herself sternly to not even dare to attempt it. 'He is your rapist, Hermione, he is the reason you are unhappy; Adrian is unhappy.' She kept reminding it to herself.
The man was almost at the entrance of the Château when he suddenly stopped. Hermione, who was following him silently only from a distance of fifteen meters, copied his movement and stopped too.
Like a graceful ballerina Draco turned around slowly. He then looked up at the waning moon and sniffed in the air. The clouds has finally shifted and revealed the celestial orb and under its silvery spell, his silhouette was ghostly pale and unearthly. As Hermione watched him, he sniffed several times like a dog searching for any hidden bones and by some miraculous means that was unknown to her, looked down at her hideout with pin point precision. The scene strangely reminded her of a similar situation in the Third Year: when she had mimicked the sound of a wolf to lure the freshly turned werewolf Remus Lupin towards Harry and her.
The memory and Draco's odd attitude both sent a shock of horror down her spine. Hermione's instincts were telling her that she was in grave danger. Every nerve in her body became taut, as if preparing her for a flight and she gripped her wand tight to Dissolution herself in a moment's notice. But before she could do so much as think about the incantation inside her head, Draco Malfoy, with a pure animalistic gesture that rivaled the wildest of wolfs, charged at her direction.
It took Hermione one tenth fraction of a second to realize that the man was sensing her presence through her body scent and not by seeing her. She didn't have time to consider that it was a very odd possibility. She knew her Disillusionment Charm wouldn't work to hide her from him. He could locate her through his olfactory senses.
So she opted for the next spell that came into her mind.
"Stupi…" she raised her wand and thought the spell with all her courage. Draco was almost three meters away from her when she lashed her wand in the air, determined to knock him down.
But she couldn't finish the rest of the spell. She discovered Draco's fingers that were wrapped around her daintily throat and crushing it with all his might.
Millions of yellow starts burst before her eyes and Hermione gasped for air. She felt the presence of a very powerfully body grazing against hers. It was Draco and he was behaving like a predator would with its prey.
"Wanna play some hide and seek in the moonlight, Mudblood?" he brought his mouth closer to hers and bared his white teeth. The fetor almost suffocated Hermione. "Thought it was a clever idea to turn my son against me. huh?" he snapped at her like a pair of Acromantula pincers.
Hermione thrashed for air and for her dear life. Draco has completely cut off her air supply and at this rate, she'd pass out in next ten seconds. She desperately tried to think of a way to free herself. She couldn't let him win over her again. But Draco Malfoy? He was way too powerful for her. As she struggled, he lifted her off the ground single handedly.
It was as if someone was hanging her without any rope and she had no means to prevent it. Airless, her body was rapidly becoming numb and unresponsive. She kicked at his direction, in the air and as a last resort, aimed to prod him in the eye with her wand.
But the man simply grabbed her hand and twisted it painfully. It was a silent battle of two. Hermione couldn't make a single sound as he took away her last weapon and threw it aside carelessly.
"Don't fight, Mudblood." He whispered at her. His features were as cruel as the day he had raped her. "You can't fight me. I am your husband. I am your master. You are my wife. You are my slave. And now I am going to bang you here…in this open arena…under this moonlight…so hard that you won't be able to stand up…that you won't be able to walk…for next two monthes…I am going to tear your cunt…tear your pussy…tear you apart and show you your proper place…" he said and threw her on the grass as if she was nothing more than a ragged doll, "…which is under my feet…" he stamped on the ground like one would extinguish the last remains of a cigarette.
Hermione lay on the grass, breathing heavily. She was too shocked, frightened, stunned and petrified to produce a single sound. She looked around wildly for her wand and spotted it lying only two feet away from her. As Draco prepared to take off his shirt, she lunged for it. She wasn't going to let him rape her again. She has had enough. Now she could kill him without any hesitations.
Her fingers wrapped itself around her Vinewood wand and Draco's right foot landed on her right wrist. Hermione yelled in agonizing pain that pierced the silence of the November night. The hard sole of Draco's boot was digging deep in her skin and flesh but he continued thrashing her wrist as if he was determined to break it.
Helpless, she next attempted to kick him on the crotch. She had kicked him there before and knew it was all men's weak spot. But the aim misfired and hit him on his right thigh instead.
"Bitch…" Draco cursed and let go her nerveless fingers and bruised wrist before throwing himself on her. Under his powerful masculine body, Hermione felt like her worst nightmare was back again. He was going to rape her again and there was nothing she could do to stop him.
•••••
Draco tried to balance his weak body on his even weaker feet. He was drained of every last bit of his strength. A med nurse handed him his shirt and he donned it with an audible wince as a searing pain issued when he moved his left shoulder. He would be grateful if he could return to the Château safely and slip into his bed. He was done for.
In the aftermath and despair of his realization that his only son detested looking like him, Draco had resorted to punish himself by returning to St. Lupus facility for the fourth dose of the said venom. Needless to say the Chief Researcher Descartes was surprised on his appearance. He had confessed how he had expected him never to return again. Draco had listened but not responded. He knew why he was back there. He must be punished for his crimes against Hermione and she needed healing from her dreadful past. For that Audré needed the memories.
The snake that bit him this time had dug its fangs deep in his flesh, as if trying to puncture his bones. The excruciating pain it created had knocked him out for almost six hours. He has regained his consciousness just half an hour ago and decided to leave the cursed place.
He couldn't remember how he visualized the apparition point in the Château de la Grange-Bléneau nor could he come off the disappointment upon the grave realization of the extent of his crime impacting both Hermione and Adrian. Could he ever undo it?
A battle was waging inside his head when he appeared at the Château grounds. The voice that taunted him was louder than ever before.
'How dare that filthy Mudblood tried to brainwash that half-blood bastard son of yours against you, his own father? Are you not a man, Draco? Couldn't you just hit her on her face and teach that bitch her proper place?'
'SHUT THE FUCK UP!' Draco screamed at it and fell on the grass. He grasped his shoulder and let out a whimper of pain. He fought not to pass out then and there. 'I'll never hurt Hermione again.' he thought resolutely.
'I'll never hurt Hermione again.' The voice mimicked him cruelly. 'Hermione doesn't value you more than her asswipe, you asshole. You must fuck her ass hard to bring her back to her senses. I am pretty sure her ass will as delicious as her cunt and pussy was.'
'GET LOST, YOU LOSER!' Draco scrambled to his feet and thought fervently, 'I'll not touch her that way. Ever. She is my wife.'
'Yes, she is your wife, Draco and she deserves to be fucked often and for long.' The voice cackled in maniacal pleasure, 'Women, if not fucked properly, forget where their real place is: under her husband's feet and dick.'
'I'll cut your dick off and thrust it into your mouth if you don't shut up this instant!' Draco snarled. Trudging through the lawn he was almost at the entrance of the Château when a faint familiar scent reached his hypersensitive nostrils.
It was the same fresh fragrance of daisies that emanated from Hermione. He knew it too well to get confused. It could only mean only thing.
Hermione was in the garden; with him.
Draco didn't know what got hold of him as the realization hit him. He felt his body go rigid, turn around and look up at the moon. It was an eerie sight. Like a wolf hunting for its prey he sniffed the air for more of that enticing smell.
It was there; lingering in the air like a perfume and before he knew his member was erect and hard as rock.
'Fuck her, Draco!' the voice unleashed his out-of-control body and he cantered at the direction of the scent like a hungry wolf.
Hermione came into view within next five seconds. Draco's eyes were darkened with lust as he spotted her holding her wand high and ready to strike him. She looked pale as a ghost and ready to be taken then and there.
He reached her in leaps and bounds before grabbing her by her daintily neck and attempting to suffocate her first. This way she would be weak when he exploited her. As expected she fought valiantly like a brave Gryffindor would. She tried to kick him and prod him in the eye with her wand. But Draco knew just the medicine to disarm her.
The voice that poured out all the venom in his heart was definitely not his. It was highly distorted as he spoke:
"Don't fight, Mudblood." He rubbed his hard member against her soft body. "You can't fight me. I am your husband. I am your master. You are my wife. You are my slave. And now I am going to bang you here…in this open arena…under this moonlight…so hard that you won't be able to stand up…that you won't be able to walk…for next two monthes…I am going to tear your cunt…tear your pussy…tear you apart and show you your proper place…" he said and threw her on the grass as if she was nothing more than a ragged doll, "…which is under my feet…"
Preparing to assault her again, he attempted to take his shirt off when she lunged for her wand. But he extinguished the frail effort by placing his heavy booted feet on her elegant wrist and thrashing it mercilessly. She howled in pain and proceeded to kick him on his crotch. It misfired and hit his right thigh. Draco cursed and threw himself, face down on Hermione. He was going to get what was his right as her husband: a proper sex.
He placed his heavy body on every strategic position of her petit one. Now she couldn't even move. Next he muffled her cries. He had a lot of experience in overpowering her.
Hermione's chocolate brown eyes were wide and dilated with undulating fear as he lowered his mouth over hers. First he was going to have a good and rough kiss. Tonight, he was going to chew her lips and make her bleed hard for all those awful insults she had thrown at him.
Only inches away from her trembling lips Draco stopped.
'NO! NO! STOP IT! STOP IT, DRACO! DON'T HURT HER! SHE IS YOUR WIFE! YOU LOVE HER!' he heard a voice scream inside his head. It was very familiar. It was his own voice.
'No, Draco, don't listen to him!' the voice that was controlling him commanded, 'She is your wife! She is yours to enjoy! Kiss her! Molest her! Rape her!'
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Draco, suddenly coming to himself, felt a loud scream leave his entire body and he rolled over, releasing Hermione. No matter what happened, if he lived or died, if this world remained or got destroyed, if the Malfoys survived or became extinct, he wasn't going to touch Hermione the wrong way again. Never. Ever.
The woman who was his captive until the previous moment lay breathing heavily and in an attempt to save herself, she lunged for her wand again. And so did Draco. In the race between two people for one wand, Draco won. He grabbed it but instead of pointing it at her, he pointed it directly to his heart.
•••••
Hermione cursed herself as she missed her own wand just for an inch. She was done for. She was certain that the monster has released her only to play and meet his sadistic pleasures. Now he had her wand and was going to use it to imprison and torture her.
She wanted to scream and call for help. She even opened her mouth. But she was so breathless that nothing but short pants could be produced by her voice box.
But instead of pointing it to her, Draco Malfoy pointed her wand at his chest.
"I am warning you, Draco, if you try to touch her again, I'll kill you." he said threateningly.
Hermione blinked. Who was he talking to?
"I am telling you, Draco. Go and grab her. Fuck her senseless." he said again. But this time his voice had an unfamiliar high cackle in it. "She belongs to you and she should be punished for trying to turn your son against you. Go. Fuck her."
"No!"
"Yes! Do it, Draco!"
"Never! She is my wife."
"Coward! You are not fit to be a man!"
"I don't care! I won't touch her!"
"But Draco, she must be punished or she won't learn to respect and fear you!"
"She loathes and fears me enough to last a lifetime!"
"If you let go of this golden opportunity, your slave will become your master. You must not let that happen!"
"If I touch her now I'll damage myself and her beyond any sort of repair or healing. That must never happen."
Perplexed, Hermione watched as Draco talked to himself, arguing over if he should rape her again or not. It was a bizarre scene: Draco Malfoy pointing her wand to his heart and threatening another non-existent Draco to not touch her while the said person encouraged him to do it.
Breathing heavily and regaining some of her strength, she stood up. Then she screamed.
She screamed and screamed and screamed. She screamed so much that her throat began to hurt but she didn't stop. She was going to tell the whole wide world what Draco had done to her.
The said criminal covered his ears to protect his eardrums but surprisingly, didn't attempt to Silence her. He stood up, took a step or two towards her. Hermione backed off but didn't stop screaming. She won't stop.
She didn't know how long she screamed. She only thing she knew was that she needed to wake everyone everywhere, whether it was the Château or the Delacour residence or entire Paris or London or France or Britain. She just wanted to wake them and show them Draco's true colours. She stopped only when her voice box failed her and she had no breathes left.
Her screams seemed to have thrust some sense in her assaulter for he gave her a very pitiful look before looking down at himself. Draco, Hermione noticed, was still mumbling.
"I will not touch her." he chanted like the same words like a mantra and withdrew her wand from his chest, "I will not touch her." he pointed it instead to his neck. "I will not touch her."
"You must." She heard him declare in the same distorted voice.
"I. Will. Not. You. Bastard." He uttered every word through his gritted teeth, "You can't make me."
"I can."
"YOU CAN NOT." Draco bellowed and in a flash of red light Hermione saw him casting a spell on himself.
"DIFFINDO!"
Hermione's mouth fell open in horror.
Has Malfoy beheaded himself?
•••••
Narcissa was combing her already thrice combed blonde hair only for the want of passing her endless leisure.
She was tense and Blacks, when tense though it was a rare occasion, would behave like any normal person would do: wait and curse.
She had learnt from Audré and after her five visits to Draco's suite that he still wasn't back home.
It was outrageous. Draco was never like that: spending nights outside home and turning up in the morning looking as haggard as a weather-beaten scarecrow. When asked, he'd say he was at work. As if Narcissa didn't know what work meant. Sometimes, she wondered if she knew her son anymore. The man has changed so much over the past two monthes.
She checked the clock again. Eleven thirty. She needed to check Draco's suite again.
But when she opened the door half an inch, her eyes were met with the most bizarre scene she could ever imagine.
Hermione Granger was peeping inside Draco's suite!
Perplexed, Narcissa rubbed her eyes twice before looking at her again.
No. She was there. Holding her wand light high and peeping inside Draco's chamber.
What the hell was she doing there?
Narcissa wondered if she should join her too but then discarded the idea. Hermione would be seriously embarrassed if she caught her while checking Draco's suite.
So she waited for her to leave and from the grave look on her face, she could tell that her son still wasn't back.
'Let him come home.' She thought furiously, returning to her seat before the vanity and throwing away the comb, 'I'll slap him so hard that he won't be able to talk for three days.' She declared, waving an angry fist at her own reflection.
She was informed during the Sunday lunch that her son would be taking his wife and son for a traditional Sunday Roast in a restaurant that was quite favourite to Morpheus. Audré had been quite quiet while telling her about it.
As a mother, she was happy that her son finally seemed to be taking the right path to persuade his family rather than proclaiming his love to the woman he raped and pushing her away. It was slow and more like her own story of falling in love with Lucius. Every time she remembered those golden days of her youth, Narcissa's heart filled with a pleasure she knew only her husband's memories could bring. The days of them walking on the fields with hands on hands, exchanging a shy smile or two and once, kissing under the shelter of a tree when the rain interrupted their long walk unceremoniously. Lucius's lips were wet and so were hers; not from lust. From the rain water and passionate kiss.
Narcissa wondered if she had ever considered that her future would be like this; that she would be mother to a rapist: a son she had bore in her womb for nine long monthes and tried to bring up with the combined dignity of a Malfoy and a Black. The truth was, she didn't know the answer.
She had expected her son to return home early that afternoon; like any decent family man would do when he took out his wife and children for a day out. But instead, Hermione returned alone with Adrian and when asked about Draco, she shook her head indicating that he hadn't accompanied them.
It had struck Narcissa very odd and she had been most disapproving of such inglorious conduct. She knew how he pined to spend some quality time with his family; she had seen how happy he looked that very morning. Then why was he behaving so irrationally? He was not a kid or teenager anymore. He was a man now. A family man. A Man of the House and it was high time Draco learned how to behave with his family.
She yawned sleepily again. It was then that a terrible scream tore the night. She could recognize the voice.
It was Hermione and she was in danger.
Grabbing her wand, an alarmed Narcissa didn't waste another moment to don her gown before leaving her suite as fast as her slippered feet could manage.
•••••
Healer Cloutier checked his patient's pulse before declaring that he was out of danger. The man had a deep cut on the right side of his neck. Had it accidentally severed one of his vital arteries such as the Carotids, he could've bled to death. He wondered why he had tried to take away his own life with his wife's wand. Was he trying to frame her on a murder case?
That possibility was unlikely for she was injured too. Her right wrist had deep bruise; there were purple finger and nail marks all over her throat as if her husband had tried to throttle her. She looked deeply shaken and refused to talk to anyone. Currently, she was sitting on the patient's sitting room, huddled in a blanket and silent, with the rest of the family minus the little boy.
Meanwhile, Draco Malfoy, his midnight patient, lay like a log on his bed. He was almost bloodless and looked wasted.
Cloutier gave him a generous dose of Blood Replenishing Potion before returning to the anxious family. They were all clad in their night clothes. The patient's mother was sobbing in a corner, her head on her sister-in-law, Audré's bosom.
"Thanks to Madame Malfoy, her husband has been saved." He informed them with a curt nod at Hermione's direction. "I have healed his cut and attended to his other wounds. But he appears ill and wasted. In that case, I advice him three days of full bed rest."
"Merci, Healer Cloutier." Audré Malfoy thanked him. She looked as grave as she had been the day Cloutier had declared that husband was dead. "I know I can trust you on our family matters."
The Healer understood that he was not to breathe a word on what has happened tonight. His professional ethics also prohibited him from doing so. But he knew the Chombrun Malfoys for a very long time and their secrets were like own ones. He nodded silently.
"Can I attend to your wounds, Madame?" he asked Hermione who didn't reply and continued staring at the air like a statue. Everyone exchanged worried looks among themselves.
"Jean." Lillian Malfoy, the young lady sitting beside her, called Hermione softly. "Healer Cloutier wants to see your wounds."
But she didn't respond and sat there like a stone gargoyle.
The Healer understood that the lady has gone through a lot within a short span of time and thus was in a state of nervous shock. He walked over to her and took a seat just opposite the stunned woman. She didn't show any indication of recognizing him. He gently took her limp hand and started mending it without further ado.
The lady was silent and uninhibiting all throughout the ordeal. One by one, Cloutier healed the bruises over her wrist and neck. When he was done, he prescribed her some pain killers for the residual pain that might trouble her for a day or two.
"But you need to be careful with her husband." He warned them, "He needs complete bed rest, nutritious foods and mental support to fully heal. It seems he has been going through a lot of stress lately."
Cloutier was curious to learn what had actually happened between the couple but restrained himself from enquiring. No one seemed to be in any particular mood to talk and when Julian gestured to show him the way to the Floo, he stood up with a final flourish and left.
•••••
Audré had been going through the necessary documents and letters that the Delacroix's had provided her when a sky piercing scream resonated across the entire Château.
In an instant, she was on her feet, wand at the ready and left Morpheus's study without a second thought.
She found a shocked Hermione sitting beside Draco's body as a red stream of blood covered the grass on the right side of his neck. Her first bewildered thought was that she has murdered her husband.
But soon it turned out that such was not the case, though what the reality was, was still unknown.
Julian and Lillian were the second to reach the scene with Narcissa bringing up the rear. Audré had applied as much knowledge as she had on Wizarding First Aid and rescued her nephew from the pool of blood. Lillian had cajoled Hermione to follow them inside. The young mother hasn't uttered a word since.
They sat in Draco's sitting room while Audré sent her faithful and personal elf, Zilek, to take care of Adrian and assure that the boy didn't wake up before the matter was clearly dealt with.
Narcissa has been sobbing for last one hour. Audré had no words to console her. They all sat in pin drop silence until Hermione broke it.
"Malfoy attacked me, aunt."
The words sent a spark of fear through Audré's every nerve. What did she mean by it? Did Draco attempt to rape Hermione again? Was he out of his bloody mind?
A collective intake of breath followed her statement. Narcissa looked up from her constant sobbing and fixed her gaze on her daughter-in-law.
"How dare he?" Lillian was the one who flared up first while he brother gave Hermione an incredulous look, "Didn't he have enough…" she couldn't continue when Audré quietened her with a quelling look.
"Lillian?" she warned her daughter using her subtly strict voice, "Didn't I teach you to not jump into any conclusions until you reach the end of the story?" she asked her and Lillian looked away in evident discomfort, "Jean…" she called Hermione, "Please continue." She bade her solemnly.
Hermione was staring at the direction of Draco's room when she started again.
"I was…I couldn't…" she licked her lips and Julian handed her a gobletful of water immediately. She drank it silently, wiped her mouth on the sleeve of her nightdress and placed the empty goblet on the table. Everyone waited patiently.
"Malfoy took us to a restaurant for lunch. He said it was Uncle Morpheus's favourite place for Sunday Roast. I asked Adrian if he wanted to go and he agreed. We accompanied him there."
"During the lunch, a couple came with two twin girls. They were clinging to their father and doting on him. If one would give him a glass of water the other would do the same. The father ended up having a pair of everything he asked for. He seemed to be enjoying all the extra fuss and double attention. Everyone at the restaurant were looking at them. They were a very happy family."
Hermione paused for a while. She had a pained look on her face.
"Suddenly…Adrian asked me why the girls looked like each other. He hasn't met any twins and has no idea that they can exist. I explained it to him as simply as I could. Then he said he doesn't want his twin to look like him."
Audré's heart broke in sorrow for the little man she loved as her grandson as she realized the painful simplicity behind that statement. Adrian, a barely six year old boy whose mother was his life, disliked his looks that were actually his father's. But since he was still very young and too innocent to actually understand what real hatred meant, he expressed his feelings in the most harmless of ways: by confessing that he didn't like his appearance. Had he known what the underlying deep meaning of that statement, Audré was certain that the innocent boy wouldn't have proclaimed it before his father.
"Oh dear." She saw Lillian shaking her head sadly. Suddenly, all her previous anger for Draco was gone.
"Malfoy…looked…" Hermione stammered, "..deeply troubled and hurt by it. I was astonished too but before I could explain anything to him, Malfoy told Adrian that he doesn't look like him. Instead he said…he looks like…his aunt Lillian."
Narcissa burst into tears and Lillian clapped her hand over her mouth. Julian sat ashen faced and Audré sighed.
"So that's why Adrian asked me if he looked like me?" her daughter queried, shaking her head in disbelief, "And I agreed thinking it was one of his cute jokes."
In response Hermione simply leaned back on her sofa and let out a heavy sigh. "The lunch ended and he left us on our own. I came home with Adrian but I had this sense of extreme discomfort in the back of mind. As the night grew, it increased and…and I couldn't…go to sleep…"
Audré noticed how Hermione fisted her hands as if confessing a horrific truth about herself.
"I came…here…" she waved her hand around the suite in general, "…to check if he has returned. I don't know why I was so worried…I…" she paused and gulped, "When I saw that he…it was almost midnight and he…still hasn't returned…I went outside…to wait for him by the apparition point…"
The pieces were suddenly starting to fit together for Audré as she listened to Hermione's account attentively. With it came the gruesome realization that Morpheus was right. She couldn't possibly leave Draco to suffer.
What a terrible dilemma it was! If she helped Draco, Hermione would suffer and if she helped Hermione, Draco would perish like tonight. What should she do? Whom should she prefer?
"It was almost one o' clock when Malfoy came home…" Hermione continued, "…at first I wanted to go and ask him about his whereabouts but something…maybe it was my instincts…stopped me…and I started following him silently…it was going on well until…he stopped…sniffed the air…turned…and cantered at my direction…it was so…strange…eerie… so shocking…as if he could sense me by my scent only…"
Visualizing the scene, Audré closed her eyes in horror.
"He attacked me and…beat me…accusing me…of brainwashing Adrian…for making him go against him…I tried my best to fight back…to escape…but he was just too powerful…he almost suffocated me and lifted me off the ground…I tried to poke him in the eyes…but he snatched my wand…and threw me on the ground…"
Audré watched as Hermione gulped several times and she knew what a terrible internal battle she was having as she chose between the absolute truth and relative truth. Lillian, sobbing now, took off her own shawl, placed it over Hermione's already blanket clad form and drew her closer to convey that she supported her.
"He would've…" she paused, "…he was in a terrible rage…and would've beaten the living daylight out of me…when something happened…"
Audré's heart almost stopped beating.
"He…released me and I lunged for my wand…he lunged too and got it…before I could…and…and…and…"
"And?" Julian prompted. "What did he do, Jean? Just tell me. I'll beat the hell out of him for raising his hand on you." He looked positively mad in fury, "Did he try to sexu…"
"NO!" Hermione shook her head violently, looking like a ghost now, "He…he…let me go and…and started talking to…himself."
"Himself?" Narcissa repeated incredulously. She looked no less shocked than Hermione. "You mean he was talking to himself? Draco?"
Hermione nodded silently. "There were two voices…one slightly high pitched and the other…his original drawl…and the high pitched one was asking him to…to punish me…for my disobedience…and he refused…they had an argument…and I was terrified…it was so…" she gulped for her words failed her, "…I screamed and he…once tried to hit me and…then stopped in the middle and…and…and…"
"And he pointed your wand to his neck and cursed himself." Audré finished the rest of the sentence on her behalf.
If she had previously thought Narcissa could cry in grief, it was nothing compared to how she howled following Audré's final statement on her son's insanity. Her heart tearing wails echoed across Draco's room and beyond and she collapsed on the floor, almost unconscious.
"Draco…my son…my only son…my child…he has…finally lost it…lost his mind…NO…NO…NO…" she banged her head on the table and Audré had to hold her tight to prevent any further undesirable incident, "…how much more can he take…he was only twenty…when his first son died…he lost all his children…all three of them…and his wife…Astoria…he loved her…" she panted and let out a heart wrenching cry, "…death of one child is painful enough to last a life time…and he faced three…now his only son…Adrian…doesn't even want to…look like him…Oh Merlin!... why didn't I die before seeing this day…why didn't I die…why didn't I die…"
"Sssshhhh…Narcissa…ssshhhhh…" Audré tried to comfort her at her best, "It's alright, dear, it's alright. Draco is alive. Jean is alive and I am sure we can help them both. Listen to me…listen to me…" she tried to restrain Narcissa as she attempted to hit her with the nearby flower vase, "…listen to me Narcissa, the hope is still not gone. If Draco hasn't succumbed to insanity then it means there is someone who keeps him alive. He isn't mad. He cut his throat because he wanted to get rid of the demon who takes charge of him when he's at his most vulnerable state. That two-voice conversation wasn't a mark of his madness, dear. It means that he is sane and fighting to be a better man."
"He is?" Narcissa looked up at her. Her blue eyes were bloodshot from constant crying. "Is he, Audré?"
She nodded silently. There was a time to hold back the truth and tonight certainly was not one of those occasions. "Draco fights against himself because his good side anchors him to his wife."
"To Astoria?" Julian gaped.
"No." Audré shook her head and looked at the white-faced woman named Hermione, "To Jean."
No one spoke for a very long time, not even Narcissa who had been trying to crack her head open until that moment.
Audré sighed. "Draco is not mad, Narcissa. He is like any one of us – a mixture of good and bad. The only difference is that he did not know it until he met Jean. He used to think it was his Malfoy trait; the cruelty, the bigotry, the pride, the arrogance, the impassivity. He was brought up to nurture these, what should I call these…these qualities. I am pretty sure Narcissa knows too well what it means to 'uplift the family name'."
Her sister-in-law remained silent, looking downward.
"But when Draco met Jean, his presumptions were proven wrong. Her innocence and honesty made him realize that the man he was and the man he was taught to be were separate entities. He chose the one he thought would go well with Jean: the good one. For obvious reasons, the other Draco wouldn't leave him all too soon. He was his part for a very long time. So it tries to take charge of him whenever he was stressed, emotionally labile or vulnerable."
"Tonight Jean witnessed a battle between two Dracos: a good one with an evil one. The evil one had prompted him to beat her and so he did. But the good one, the side that latched itself to Jean's goodness, fought against him and prevented further harm by trying to slit his own throat. He did it because he had no other way to defeat that monster. He couldn't let him win either. Regrettably, he chose that undesirable path."
"You mean, brother Draco is like that Muggle book, Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde?" Lillian's eyes were almost popping out in horror.
"No, dear." Audré was patient to explain. "Dr Jekyll had drunk that potion or whatever to release the Mr Hyde in him. That way he could do awful things without being charged for it and in the end he got defeated by his evil side. But Draco isn't trying to release his madness, Lillian. He is trying to win over it. That's completely the opposite thing. And he is doing it for Adrian and Jean – his last hope for salvation."
•••••
Hermione listened to Audré, her own mind on what had happened just an hour ago.
She had seen how Draco pointed her wand to his chest and threatened himself. She had seen how he slit his throat. She had thought it was his inherent Malfoy madness. But now that Audré explained it, she was reminded of his words that he had told her just a day ago.
'Sometimes, when I am very vulnerable or stressed, a part of me tells me to do awful and cruel things to relieve it. I was very stressed that night and after you told me…that part of me told me to do some awful things. It was horrible and I lost control and screamed at him and you thought it was you.'
She hadn't believed him that night. Even tonight, she wouldn't believe it if it were not for Audré.
"Jean…" she was brought out of her musings when Narcissa almost threw herself on her feet, "Jean…please save my son…" she cried desperately.
Hermione couldn't say that she didn't feel sorry for the woman who has lost her everything and cried her heart out for her son who was going mad. She was not a merciless woman. But this new plea of hers astonished her beyond measure. Narcissa knew what her son had done to her; she was the one who condemned it too and now she was asking Hermione to save her rapist husband?
"Jean…" she was trembling as fresh tears poured out of her horribly bloodshot eyes, "…I know what you are thinking…that I am mad…to ask you…to help my son…I know you are thinking this…but I am a mother, Jean…and Draco is m…y on…ly s..o…n…" she was crying so hard that she was having difficulty to articulate words properly, "…I can die for him…I can beg in…the streets…for him…I can do every…thing for him…you are a…mother…too…Jean…you…know..it…don't you?"
Hermione was at a loss of words. Narcissa was right. Hermione the mother could do everything for her only son: Adrian.
"I am…responsible…for what happened to…you…" Narcissa continued her sobbing, "I didn't rear…Draco well…punish me, Jean…punish me…hurt me…do whatever you…like, Jean…but please help him…don't let him…go mad…or die…please…I beg you…he is my only son…my only child…" she pledged and dissolved into tears.
Hermione has never found herself in such delicate situations. She truly felt for Narcissa but she also couldn't forget how Draco almost raped her again tonight. The feeling of his sliding over her, hovering and roving over her was still fresh on her skin. If the mother won, the woman would be beaten and if the woman won, the mother would be defeated. Whom should she choose? The mother or the woman? She couldn't possibly play both roles at one time.
"Draco…he is really a nice boy…Jean…" Narcissa was tireless and relentless, "…he was only six when he stayed awoke an entire night…for me when I caught a bad bout of Flu…I can still recall…the feel of his little hands… on my forehead…when he checked my…temperature… he was so much like your Adrian… he was nine when he made my…portrait as a birthday present… just like your Adrian will do for you… when he was twelve… one day… I caught him having a naughty glimpse… on the adult issue of Witch Weekly…he apologized immediately… he was only sixteen years when the Dark Lord sent him on that…mission…he had threatened to kill me and Lucius…if Draco failed…and my son…tried to do his bidding…as much as he could…Jean…please…save him…he is not a bad man…hurt me…hurt me instead…but save him…"
"Mrs. Malfoy…" Hermione feared the woman would have a fit if she didn't stop her immediately, "Mrs…Malfoy…listen…please listen…to me…"
"…hurt me, Jean…" her mother-in-law wouldn't listen and chant the same words like a mantra, "…save him…hurt me…save him…"
"I am sure Narcissa that Jean will never hurt you." Audré came to her aid and took her sister-in-law arms, "She can't even hurt a fly. Don't worry…" she wiped her endless tears, "…Jean will consider your words. Won't you, Jean?"
Hermione didn't know if she could do anything else but nod. "Yeah…aunt is right…" she said, "…I'll…but first you…Lillian…can you please bring the Calming Draught from my cabinet?" she asked her sister-in-law who leapt to her feet immediately.
It took them another quarter of an hour to finally calm Narcissa and take her to her own chamber. Lillian declared to take care of her while Julian said he would do the same for Draco.
"Maman, you have an important hearing tomorrow. Jean, you have been through a lot." He said seriously, "Go to bed. Both of you. Now." He ordered them, "I don't care if that brat has slit his throat or not; he is still going to receive a hard slap as soon as he comes round. That's my punishment for hitting you, Jean." he declared dismissively.
Hermione's head was splitting when she returned to her quarter with Audré. Zilek was standing by Adrian like a vigilant soldier and thankfully the boy was asleep, unaware of what had gone through his mother.
"Is he mad, aunt?" was her first query to Audré. She just couldn't let go of what had happened. It kept coming back to her like those terrible nightmares of her rape.
Audré shook her head. "What do you plan to do now, Jean?" she asked her seriously,
"Do I have an option?" Hermione asked back.
"You always have an option, Jean." Audré said firmly, "Never think that this is the end of the world."
Hermione sighed. Her soul has gone to save Malfoy. She has waited for him in the cold and got beaten in return. Now she has to help that same man on the request of his mother. If this was not the end of the world then what was?
"Remember when I told you Jean that you keep Draco good and sane." She heard Audré said, "This is what I meant that night. Now you know what you will be dealing with. Now you know how very focused this man is and to what extent you influence him."
"But it doesn't necessary has to be me, aunt." Hermione protested, "Maybe he remembered that he had a Wizard's Oath, an Unbreakable and a Sacred Marriage Vow against him and stopped before it was too late."
"I don't think so." Audré remarked, "If that was the case, he wouldn't have attacked you on the first place. Trust me, Jean, I know Draco better than you do. That's the reason I am asking you know him. You need to be absolutely sure before I act on my plan for your divorce."
"What if he commits suicide when I divorce him?" Hermione's throat was dry from fear. She couldn't possibly be responsible for someone's death no matter how much she hated him.
"He won't." Audré smiled mysteriously, "Self preservation is the most basic Slytherin trait. For now, just be yourself. Don't worry." She patted her on the shoulder and Hermione winced, "I am sorry. But after what happened tonight, I don't think Draco will dare to lay his hand on you, Jean. Besides, you have your brother-in-law at your disposal. Julian will break Draco's bones should he attempted to look at you the wrong way again. Indecency towards woman is despicably ugly to him."
Hermione smiled but she didn't feel relieved. She didn't know herself anymore. She didn't know the man who has slit his throat before her. Now she was embarking on a journey she didn't know where it would take her.
"Don't worry, dear." Audré smiled at her. She looked so much like her mother, Adeline Granger. Hermione wondered if she would be coming in her dreams tonight. She needed her desperately.
"Good night, Jean..." Audré winked at her as she stood up to leave, "…and sweet dreams. I am pretty sure all of them will come true very soon. You just need to believe."
Believe? Yes, Hermione couldn't agree more with Audré. She did need to believe in her dreams. Her dream of a small home called Otter's pond; a sitting room with a piano; a swing in the front garden where Adrian would play. But the burning question was, whether or not Draco Malfoy would be present there too and after this Sunday, Hermione could sincerely tell that she didn't know the answer. The night has moved her terribly.