III
—
His eyes didn't leave hers, even as the Dark Lord began circling him.
Hermione struggled to maintain an air of indifference, even knowing she was about to watch the last Weasley die, and she could do nothing to stop it.
Voldemort knelt in front of the boy, then followed his gaze to the muggle-born witch.
"Hermione, do come here."
Swallowing, the girl set down her drink. Draco offered her his hand, helping her to her feet and lightly brushing his lips against her knuckles in reassurance. At the display, Ron snarled, and was subsequently hit with a Cruciatus Curse from the Dark Lord.
Hermione winced at the screams that echoed through the sitting room, her hand crushing around Draco's. When the cries stopped, she turned and began making her way to the front of the gathered crowd, feeling the myriad of eyes on her. She gave a low curtsy when she reached the Dark Lord.
She knew he wasn't suspicious of her; he'd torn through her mind enough to see that she wasn't a spy. But he was testing her, trying to see how far she'd go to cement her place among the Death Eaters. He grasped her hand and led her forward to stand just before the whimpering captive, speaking quietly to her.
"What do you think we should do with him?" he asked, glancing at the boy for a moment before returning his gaze to her. Hermione watched as Ron coughed and raised himself onto his elbows, his eyes finding hers once more.
"Hermione… Please…"
His watery begging sent the girl's heart into her stomach, as she understood what he was asking for. She schooled her features into marble.
"End him," she whispered.
There were murmurs from behind her, as she suspected most of the Death Eaters had been expecting her to plead for mercy. The Dark Lord, however, did not seem surprised.
"Very wise, Miss Granger. Please," he motioned towards the broken boy on the ground before them, "proceed."
The girl drew her wand slowly, her eyes never leaving Ron's freckled face. They hadn't been friends for some time now, but that made her current situation no less difficult, as she watched his expression shift slightly into one of relief. She swallowed the lump in her throat.
"Give them my love," she said softly, and he gave an almost imperceptible nod, closing his eyes. The girl closed her eyes as well, then willed all of her concentration to focus on ending his pain.
"Avada Kedavra."
The words were barely above a breath, but that was all that was required. She saw a flash of green through her eyelids, and heard a quiet thump a moment later. Clenching her jaw, she tucked her wand away and opened her eyes.
Ron lay there lifeless, his bright hair splayed about his head to resemble a fiery crown. Hermione stood, frozen to her spot, until a gentle touch on her shoulder brought her out of her stupor.
Draco grasped the girl's wrist, as she turned to the Dark Lord.
"Is there anything else I may assist with, my lord?" She asked, her voice detached. The wizard regarded her carefully.
"You've done well, Hermione. I require nothing further from you."
She nodded, giving another curtsy and letting Draco pull her back to her seat. She felt as though she were a ghost, empty and transparent. There was nothing left from her past now; all she could do was move forward, into a life as a follower of the Dark Lord and bride of a Death Eater.
Hermione looked up at Draco, who had returned his attention to the Dark Lord, but still dutifully rested a hand on her shoulder. She had always acknowledged that he was handsome, but his callus attitude towards her and her friends had caused her to despise him for many years. Now, however, he was the closest thing she had to a friend.
The girl moved her gaze from him to the wizard at the front of the room. He seemed to be consulting with some of his followers, asking them various questions. But Hermione couldn't focus on his words, her stare returning to the body on the floor behind him.
She and Ron had fallen out in the middle of their sixth year at Hogwarts, after he'd berated her for, ironically, voicing her concerns about Draco. They'd been gradually drifting apart as it was, and then they'd called each other a number of such vile names in that argument, that they'd never quite gotten past the bitterness that had developed. It had only worsened as time wore on.
As her eyes continued to linger on Ron's greying corpse, however, Hermione found herself wishing she'd spent just five more minutes with him, apologized and embraced him.
Draco started tracing something on her shoulder blade, subtle little movements that he kept repeating. After a minute, the girl realized it was some sort of sigil, and though she couldn't determine if she recognized it, she did notice its effects after a few more moments. A calming feeling began to flow through her.
Suddenly Voldemort turned his attention towards the two of them. "Draco, I believe you have an announcement to make."
Nodding, the boy stood a little straighter, and Hermione set down her drink, draping her hands over her knees to display the ring on her finger as Draco addressed the gathering.
"When it was declared several weeks ago that we were no longer to wed Pureblood to Pureblood, I began searching for the one witch of impure lineage that I knew would fit best among us. I am pleased to announce that she was found, and that our gracious lord has approved of her. I present to you all my betrothed, Hermione Granger."
Hermione stood slowly and clasped her hands at her waist, ducking her head in greeting to the group of Death Eaters. She heard whispers fly through the room, and couldn't help but notice Lucius and Narcissa's cold gaze. The Dark Lord, however, raised his glass in a toast.
"I suppose, then, it is time to begin planning the ceremony. To Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy!"
Everyone mimicked their leader, and the couple grasped hands, bowing in acceptance. When they looked up again, Voldemort had vanished.
"Yixey! Get that disgusting body off of my floor, immediately!" Narcissa called, her voice tight with frustration as the noise in the room began to rise. Hermione bit her lip when a house elf appeared, grabbing a fistful of Ron's hair and then popping out of existence with the boy.
Draco winced at the sudden pressure crushing his hand, glancing at Hermione to see a line of blood on her chin. Alarmed, he Apparated them up to his room before anyone could notice.
Hermione was numb. Ron had been her best friend, once. Now, just like all the others, he was gone; and just like Harry, and Luna, and Ginny, and so many more, there wasn't even a grave she could visit to remember him by.
She didn't even realize she'd bitten through her lip until Draco gently coaxed her out of her daze, his fingers under her chin as he dabbed at it with a damp cloth, concern in his eyes.
Pain surged through her, though it wasn't from her self-inflicted injury. It knocked the air from her lungs, and she barely felt him heal her lip before she collapsed to her knees.
Sobs wracked her body, as she desperately tried to breathe past the sudden agony consuming her. Draco sat down beside her and pulled her into his arms, cradling her to his chest and just letting her cry.
After several minutes, her sobs faded into whimpers, and then she went limp in his hold, evidently falling unconscious. Draco sighed, picking her up and laying her on the bed, then cleaning the rest of the blood from her neck. After drying her face, the boy took her hand, examining the diamond on her finger and recalling when he'd asked for the ring to be made.
...
His mother had asked who he'd intended it for, as it had only been the night prior that the Dark Lord announced the new policy regarding Pureblood marriages. When he'd told her, she'd been furious, stating that he ought to do his duty to the Malfoy name and at the very least choose the purest half-blood he could find. But he'd refused, and she'd begrudgingly commissioned the jewelry.
When it arrived, beautifully seated in its green velvet box, Narcissa had stared at it for a moment while he watched her. She'd asked him if he loved her when she handed him the jewel, and the question had taken him aback.
Of course he didn't love her. How could he? He hardly knew her. But what he did know of her, he knew he wanted. She was brilliant in every facet, quick-witted with a sharp tongue, as cunning and ambitious as any Slytherin he'd ever met; and by all the stars, she was so absolutely beautiful.
He'd given his mother a simple "no," but she'd looked at him so strangely, he was quite certain she'd guessed his thoughts.
...
He was brought back to the present by another small whimper from the unconscious witch, a sound that made his chest tighten. While no, he didn't love Hermione -not yet- he knew that with a little more time, he would.
Draco suddenly felt another presence behind him, so he turned, bowing.
The Dark Lord gave him a nod, then shifted his gaze to the girl on the bed.
"How is she?" He questioned. Draco considered for a moment.
"Emotionally exhausted, I think. She'll likely sleep for some time, unless you wish to wake her."
Voldemort dismissed the idea with a wave of his hand. "I have no need for her, as of now. But I must admit, I'm pleased by her... vigor. I hadn't expected her to be able to kill Weasley."
"I believe she thought she was doing him a favor by ending his misery, my lord."
"Hm. A curious one, she is," the Dark Lord mused. Wandering over to where she lay, he materialized a small blade, making a small cut on her arm that healed instantaneously. The wizard brought the knife to his lips, tasting the blood on the edge.
"Very curious indeed."
With that cryptic statement, the man disappeared, and Draco was once again alone with the sleeping witch.
He changed out of his tear-stained jacket and shirt, staring out the window as he pulled on fresh clothing. The clouds had lightened considerably since the thunder in the garden, but a soft rain still fell, warning the wizarding world not to test the Dark Lord.
Hermione let out yet another quiet whimper, so Draco stepped over to his personal store of potions, selecting a vial filled with brilliant purple liquid.
He uncapped the bottle as he made his way to the girl's side, kneeling beside her and lightly raising her head. Bringing the beaker to her lips, he gently tipped its contents down her throat, watching as the tension in her features melted away.
Standing, Draco smoothed a stray curl out of her face, then slipped the dainty shoes off her feet before summoning a blanket and carefully tucking it around her. He then made to leave, contenting himself with the knowledge that both the wards around his bedroom and those of her engagement ring would keep her safe while he was away from her.
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