"I know."
That's all he could say to her, and she refused to hear it any longer. He knew this would destroy her, and yet he did it anyway. Despite the hot coffee burning her feet, she was tense and unmoving.
Neville was someone. He was brave and noble. Nagini's slayer. Luna's fiancé. Though he wasn't a father, he would have been a good one. He wanted to teach herbology when the war was over. He was someone.
And now he's gone.
Gone because of the war. Because of Voldemort. And because of Draco Malfoy.
Draco conjured a bottle of fire whiskey in his hand and drank heavily from it, nearly half the bottle was gone without a breath taken. He stood and walked slowly to Hermione, reaching for her. Flinching away, she recoiled into herself.
"Don't touch me," she muttered, still shaking.
"You've said that before, and yet you still allow me to touch you."
Hermione's body clenched in anger. "Every time I've let you in, it's been a mistake. You just end up hurting me more. You're so fucked up you think what you've done is justified. Being with you is a mistake."
"You don't mean that," he whispered.
"I do, I mean it. After you touch me I feel disgusted with myself."
"Have you ever stopped to realize that maybe you let me touch you because you're just as fucked up as me?" His face twisted into a nasty smile, the one she hated so much. "I ripped out your boyfriend's throat, kidnapped you, watched as you were beaten, and only weeks later you were muttering that you were my little slut."
Hermione was speechless as he moved closer to her, smelling the alcohol and his singed flesh.
"It's pathetic how you crumple beneath me, acting as if you hate my every touch, but moaning like a paid whore anytime I get my hands on you."
She tried to back away, stunned at his words. But his hand grabbed hold of her face, making her look into his silver eyes.
"Don't pretend like everything I've done hasn't been to protect you, Granger. You are mine, whether you want to admit it or not. They might have given you away, but you offered yourself on a silver platter for me to consume. I can hear it in your head when I'm near you. How you want to feel my heartbeat against your body or how you practically beg for me to kiss you."
Her hands went to his wrist to try to pull him away from her, but his grip stayed firm.
"You know I didn't want to kill him, you're just too stubborn to admit that fact. Constantly trying to paint me as a monster when you're one too." He brought his face closer, his lips seconds away from hers. She smelt it now, Neville's blood masked by the whiskey, making her stomach turn. "And I'm the only one who wants you because of that. Every fucked up thought you think and every sick desire you have makes me want you even more."
The hunger for her in his eyes felt insatiable. Hermione thought he could eat her bones and all and would never be full. He opened his mouth, and she could feel his cold breaths slip between her lips.
"You are mine."
—
Hermione spread out all the books she had gotten from Hogwarts and the Malfoy library. History of vampires, logs of registered vampires in Europe, conflicting reports on the origins of vampirism. She felt like she had almost everything except for information on the curse itself.
She thought about curse removal for objects, and how depending on the type, it could be removed by rituals or specific counter curses. Some were more intense, and took more resources and time to dispel, but there wasn't ever such a thing as a curse that couldn't be removed. Even the killing curse had been reversed in some instances.
It just hasn't been found out for blood curses yet.
If Remus were here, she would work to figure out a cure for his blood curse too, knowing how much he suffered due to lycanthropy.
Draco was also suffering. She knew that, she could see it in his eyes. The pain and sadness in them.
She wanted to end it for him, at first because she wanted him to pay for what he had done to her and those she loved, but now, she felt it was an act of mercy on her part.
He wanted her to play god to him, and she would, if that was required of her.
As much as she wanted to rid the world of him, she was scared to. No one had ever made her feel how he did, like she was the only thing that mattered. She could see his obsession with her, and it drove her wild to think about.
It felt dangerous and depraved, feeding into her own monster. To be worshiped and consumed by him felt like the ultimate pleasure to her.
Hermione hated that she loved it. She hated him. But something sick inside her wanted him.
Labored coughing threw Hermione out of her trance. She rushed to find Astoria leaning against the banister of the second floor foyer, catching her breath. Her white dress was dribbled in spots of blood from her coughing.
"Astoria, are you alright?" Hermione said, helping her up and slowly moving her towards her bedroom.
She looked more fragile than ever, her skin was a sickly gray, and her body trembled. "I just need some rest."
"Is Daphne home?"
"No, just the two of us and Twinkle. Daph's gone for a few days," she said, coughing a bit more. "Just need to lay down."
Hermione brought Astoria to her bedroom where Twinkle anxiously dabbed a cold towel to Astoria's feverish head.
"Can we please call Malfoy?" Hermione begged.
"He won't be able to do anything. I'm fine, Hermione. Just come lay with me."
Astoria rested her head on Hermione's chest, holding her close. Hermione brushed back Astoria's brown hair, noticing that strands were falling out with little resistance.
"Everyone lies to me all the time. I think you're the only one who's ever really honest with me, Hermione."
"I try to be," Hermione replied.
Astoria fiddled with a button on Hermione's shirt nervously. "Will you tell me what's going on between Draco and Pansy?"
"I don't think it's my place to say," she replied awkwardly.
"Well, no one will tell me. Was she sleeping with him?" Astoria asked.
"Yes."
"Why didn't they tell me?"
Hermione rubbed her shoulder. "It's because they care about you. They didn't want you to feel hurt."
"If they had just told me, I wouldn't feel that way. But they kept it from me, and that hurts even more."
It made Hermione think of Harry and Ron, and all they had been keeping from her for years. How if they had just told her about Draco's terms, they could have had a mutual understanding. But they hid things from her too, trying to protect her, thinking she needed to be shielded.
"People sometimes think that hiding things from us will protect us until they see the aftermath. They'll learn one day that we're strong enough to deal with it."
"You're a good person, Hermione," she said softly. "When I'm gone, you'll take care of him, right?"
"What are you talking about Astoria?" Hermione asked.
"When I die, you'll take care of Draco for me? Daph, she's got Teddy, so she'll be okay. But Draco, you'll look after him?"
"You're not going anywhere, we're going to figure this out," Hermione assured her. "Then, you won't need me."
Astoria looked up at Hermione, her tired, brown eyes looked desperate. "He needs you, Hermione. Especially if he's human again. He won't know how to be human. I don't want you to kill him, I want you to give him a chance to show you he can be good."
"He's taken so much from me, Astoria."
"He'll give you the world, if you let him."
Hermione touched her cheek, wishing she could understand the weight of the war. "That won't give me my friends back."
Astoria nodded, knowing that Hermione wouldn't promise her anything she wasn't planning on keeping. She read while Astoria slept, and stayed with her, wiping away the sweat from her brow and giving her water after a fit of coughing. She stayed with her until Draco knocked on the door.
"I'll take over from here, Granger," he said quietly as he took a seat next to the bed.
Hermione left, not acknowledging him. And that was their routine for a few days. She would sit with Astoria during the day, and then Draco would take over at night when he returned home from work. She wouldn't look at him or respond when he greeted her, she simply would walk away.
They continued this little dance until one night after Draco arrived later than normal, he followed Hermione back to her room. He was hot on her trail, and she could smell the booze on him, but she didn't falter in her stance. Not until they were at her doorway.
"Granger, please talk to me," he said, grabbing her arm before she closed the door on him.
"Don't fucking touch me," she spat at him. He let go, and she stormed to her bed. She glared at him, pulling her robe tighter over herself.
"Merlin, you look so fucking beautiful when you're mad at me."
"Oh fuck off, Malfoy."
"Since I haven't been touching you, have you been touching yourself?" he asked, a smile across his lips. "I can't go a single night without thinking about you. I miss your warm cunt against my lips and cock."
A stir in Hermione's stomach started, she crossed her legs and sat against the headboard of her bed, trying to suppress the feeling.
"Just thinking about your thighs makes me so fucking hard. When you touch yourself, do you think about me, Granger?"
Hermione tried to veil her thoughts from him, but by doing that, he had his answer, and his smile grew wider.
"I'm jealous of your fingers, how they get to explore that tight hole of yours. I bet it feels like heaven in there. Can you tell me if it does?"
Hermione's hand was now resting in between her thighs. She was biting her lip, watching as he looked at her with pure desire in his eyes.
"Touch yourself, Granger. I want to see you come on your fingers and lick them clean for me."
"Fuck," she whispered, giving into him. She opened her legs, pulling up on her nightdress and rubbed her wet cunt over her underwear.
"Good girl," he growled, touching his cock over his pants, stroking the length of himself while watching her.
She pulled her underwear off and balled them up, throwing them at him. Draco caught them and brought them to his nose.
"You smell so fucking good, and you're so fucking wet. These are dripping," Draco said, pulling his hard cock from his pants. He wrapped her panties around himself, stroking himself with them.
She looked at him in the light, seeing how thick he was and how deliberately he wrapped her wet undergarment around it, almost wishing she was wrapped around him instead. Hermione's fingers touched at her swollen clit, watching his hand moving across his full length. Her fingers slowly moved down to her entrance, and she slipped one in, letting out a loud moan.
"Does that feel good?" he asked her. "Is it warm in there?"
"It's so warm," she whispered, imagining what it would feel like having his cold fingers deep inside her.
"I wish I was stretching you out right now." He was stroking himself faster, his eyes darting from her eyes to her hand tucked in between her legs.
Another one of her fingers slipped inside her, and she hooked them up to the spot that made her eyes roll back and her mouth hang open.
"Fuck, I love when your eyes do that. Tell me what you're thinking about."
"You," she managed to mutter.
"What am I doing to you, Granger?"
She moaned out, her thumb swirling around her clit as she helplessly fingered herself and watched Draco. Their eyes were locked onto each other, there wasn't a place he didn't seem to look, like he was focusing on the entirety of her, soaking up every inch.
"Be a good slut and tell me what I'm doing to you," he demanded.
"Fucking me… with your fat cock… pulling my hair… calling me a whore… drinking my blood… filling me with cum," she shamelessly blurted out.
Draco stepped closer to the bed, licking his lips. He stopped tugging at himself, and her underwear hung from his erection.
"Finish on your fingers, I want to see you taste yourself while I come into your panties. Then I want you to wear them like the good little whore you are."
Hermione's lips began to quiver as she pushed herself over the edge, wishing for him to touch her. Her eyes fluttered as she nearly screamed out for him. She breathlessly fell back against the headboard and brought her fingers to her mouth. It was salty and sweet, and she dragged her tongue between them as she stared into his hungry, silver eyes.
"You are so fucking beautiful," he grunted, staring at her. His hand worked the entire length of his cock. "I want to come on your beautiful fucking face. Fuck!" he groaned, and she saw his cum shoot through the fabric of her underwear and onto her bed.
Swiftly, he was at her side, and she felt his lips on her neck, kissing her softly, weaving his fingers through her hair. It was comforting and familiar, something anyone would want at the end of the day, but it was cold. She wanted to give into him, to let both of their monsters win.
But she couldn't.
"Don't touch me," she whispered, pushing away from him.
Draco stepped back, his eyes lingering on her face for a second longer. "We're going to Transylvania this weekend. Get yourself packed, I'll come for you."
He left, closing the door softly. Disgust, anger, and hatred ran through her. But it wasn't directed towards Draco, it was at herself.
You are mine.
She didn't want to believe those words, that he owned her or controlled her, but the way she folded at just his words said otherwise. The way he looked at her, was enough to make her weak, and she followed his every demand and request.
Tears tugged at her eyes as she laid her head down on her pillow. Hermione fell asleep, having nightmares of being torn apart by fangs.