Hermione woke up in Draco's arms. A slight headache tugged at the base of her skull, and as she stirred, he pulled her closer. His chest was no longer the frigid temperature it once was, likely warmed by being pressed into him for hours. The beats of his heart slowly lulled her back into a drowsy state, but she tried to shake it off, eager to get to the library.
"Go back to sleep, Granger," he grumbled. "You've only gotten five hours."
"That's more than normal for me," she replied, trying to wriggle from his arms, but he didn't let go.
He buried his nose into the top of her head, getting lost in her curls. "Eight hours, I'm not budging on this one."
"I want to get started early, that'll give me more time," she complained.
"Well, I want you in bed with me for three more hours. You're so warm, and I don't want to get up yet."
She was mad that she blushed and felt herself sink deeper into him. It pained her how confident and desired Draco made her feel. His fingers trailed up and down her spine, and her eyes felt heavy again. A monster disguised as a man, soothing her, making her feel a sense of comfort enough to feel that she could fall asleep, even though at any point if he squeezed a bit too hard he could kill her.
"I never thanked you for opening the garden to me at the manor," Hermione whispered, as if it were a secret between them.
Draco tilted her chin up so that she looked into his eyes. His breath smelt of iron and alcohol still. "Do not thank anyone for things you are owed. Especially me." A smile crept over his lips. "And you look nice with some sun on your skin."
Hermione rolled her eyes, and Draco kissed her forehead, down to her temple, and ended at her ear. The soft peppering of his lips against her made her whimper at each cold touch.
"I thought you wanted me to sleep."
"Shit, nearly forgot," his cold breath grazed her face. His hand went to her neck as he continued to kiss her ear. Hermione hated how much she loved it. The feeling of losing control, letting herself succumb to her own monster that had been begging to be released. All of her life, she had been good. If you were to ask someone to describe Hermione Granger, they would say she was fierce, loyal, and honorable. There was little she did that would ever make anyone consider her as bad.
Being with Draco Malfoy made her feel bad. At first, it made her feel physically sick. But now, it made her feel bad in the way that a kid would feel eating candy they had snuck out of the pantry. There was an excitement to experiencing something so sweet, yet knowing it would have consequences. It was naughty what she was doing, and it exhilarated her.
"You're trouble, Malfoy," she moaned out as he nipped at her skin.
Draco's other hand started to roam around her thighs, "Do you want trouble, Granger?"
"No, I want to read," she smiled, feeling his fingers tighten around her throat.
"Eager to get rid of me?" he asked in a taunting manner, his hard cock pressing against her thigh.
The idea of killing Draco always was lingering in her mind, but that became less of a goal to her than finding a way to save Astoria. The more he touched her, and the closer she got to Astoria, the more she realized she needed them both in her life, if not for a little while longer.
But she told him what he wanted to hear.
"Yes," she whispered.
After a few more moments of rest, Hermione finally got up and looked through the bag Astoria had packed for her. There were several dresses that seemed too revealing to her liking, silk pajamas, and what seemed like a mountain of lingerie. With the rate at which Draco seemed to rip off her undergarments, a mountain didn't seem like too much of an overestimation.
No more, she told herself. He killed Neville, Seamus, and dozens of others within just the past few months. And despite that, she had let him touch her in such an intimate way that very few people had, yet she wanted more. It was depraved the way she wanted him.
When she put on her usual outfit of a simple jumper and leggings, she caught Draco staring at her from across the room.
"You stand out more in your muggle clothes than anything Astoria has packed you," he said, smirking at her.
"I'm more comfortable in this," she replied, pulling at her jumper awkwardly. "I'm ready now."
Draco laced his fingers between hers and walked her to the library. It was empty in the castle in the early morning, and Hermione saw that Draco was less on edge than he had been the previous day. The doors of the library opened to a beautiful sight. It was expansive, nearly double the size of the Malfoy archives. Hermione ripped her hand away from Draco's and ran to the nearest shelf.
She looked at every spine, gabbing books and stacking them in Draco's arms. Once she felt satisfied, he sat them down at a table in the corner away from the entrance.
"Read to your heart's content, but the second you hear someone come in, put everything down," he said softly to her. "You aren't supposed to be in here, let alone open the books."
Picking up something to read himself, he sat back in the chair. As she read, she felt his eyes occasionally on her, watching as she read. It didn't distract her, but she caught herself looking back at him a few times. There were titles she had selected that she hadn't even heard of, never referenced in other books she had seen. Authors she had never heard of, and even titles from Lockhardt that she had yet to discover at any other library.
Hermione needed several weeks to get through the books of interest, and she only had a few short days. With the pressure of time, she read like never before. It was erratic the way she moved through the pages, trying to skim what she knew and absorb what she didn't. Even after a few hours, Hermione was so absorbed in her studying, she hadn't noticed how much time had passed. Her stomach began to turn in hunger, but she barely noticed as she cycled through the books.
She was a few pages into a book that discussed methods on how to integrate back into human society. It discussed herbs, remedies, and methods to reduce the symptoms of vampirism enough to stay undetected. It referenced several other titles that she was eager to find.
"Wrap it up, Granger. You're hungry and we've got meetings to attend."
She didn't look up, just flipped the page. "I'll be fine here, you go to your meeting."
"I can hear your stomach, you need to eat. And what were the rules again?"
Hermione groaned, rolling her eyes, "I am not to leave your sight."
"Good girl," Draco said.
As she ate in an empty dining hall with just Draco, she felt her headache fade away from the previous night. Draco sat and read the Daily Prophet, looking closely at the sports section. The headline was just more Voldemort propaganda Hermione didn't care to look at.
"You don't like Sanguini, do you?" she asked before shoving a spoonful of peas into her mouth.
Draco turned the page of the newspaper. "Not particularly. He's quite unruly, but has been the most supportive of the Dark Lord's regime. Sanguini has been pivotal at rallying vampires across Europe to join in the war. I find that Victor is easier to work with, but he's just Sanguini's second in command for now."
"He doesn't seem to respect you at all, despite his support of Voldemort."
"It's because I haven't assimilated into vampire society. When I was young, he invited me to live here and learn from him, but I rejected that notion. I think he was offended by that and my negative opinions on vampirism."
Hermione finished her pate, the food just as good as the night before. The beauty of the house and women in it, the allure of alcohol and debauchery, and the divine food. It would be a trap for anyone who stepped foot in these walls. "He wants me."
Draco set the paper down, looking her dead in the eyes. "I will kill him if he even tries to touch you."
"I don't think Voldemort will be pleased with that."
"I don't think I would give a fuck."
Hermione crossed her arms, feeling agitated with how brazen he was about her. She played her part of being a willingly captive ward, the least she felt like he could do was keep himself under control. The gold tooth man had died because he laid a hand on her, and even then, Hermione thought it was an overreaction. "Malfoy, don't do anything rash or stupid. You always let your temper get the best of you."
"If someone hurts you and I kill them, that is not rash or stupid. It is justified."
They made their way through the winding castle to meet with Sanguini and other vampire leadership. Hermione thought it may have been awkward with her in attendance, but when they opened the doors to the room, there were several human women and men scattered across the vampires in attendance.
"Ah, Lord Malfoy, the star of the show. So good of you to finally join us," Sanguini said as they took seats at the round table in the center of the extravagant study.
Draco annoyingly ran his tongue over his teeth, his hand on Hermione's knee. "My apologies for keeping you all waiting, I didn't realize you were starting early."
Victor interrupted, "You are on time, we all have just arrived early. There is no need for apologies."
They began discussions. There were voiced concerns on the most recently destroyed horcrux, and urged for Voldemort to create a new one to replace it. Victor brought up the progress he had made with Fenrir Greyback in mending vampire and werewolf relations, and once they could come to mutual agreements, werewolves would join Voldemort's army in much higher numbers. Draco gave updates on the status of the war, warning how their ranks were dwindling.
"We need more of your men and women in England," Draco urged the room. "How many soldiers can you spare?"
Sanguini tapped his chin, murmuring to Victor and the vampire next to him for a few moments. "Two hundred by the end of the month."
Hermione's stomach dropped. Two hundred vampires in England to back Voldemort would be detrimental to the Order. One vampire during a battle was already difficult to deal with. Most vampires, however, were simply muggles that had been turned. They were strong and deadly, but if there were any more with magical abilities like Victor and Draco, it would be a bloodbath.
Werewolves and vampires on the battlefield would completely change the outlook of the war. No longer would they speak about what would happen when the Order wins, it could mean the end of everything Hermione had worked for. Everything she sacrificed would be for nothing.
They continued to discuss the logistics while Hermione tried her best to not panic as she heard the well detailed plans.
Vampires and werewolves, though strong, have limitations. Vampires couldn't be out long during the day, and outside of the full moon, werewolves could be easily defeated. As long as they didn't possess any magic, individuals could be taken down in large numbers. They won't be able to counter spells. It's just a numbers game.
Do we even have the numbers?
Hermione didn't know the status of the Order. If she was still with them, she would be in charge of all the logs of active members and would know the chances and probabilities of success. But she was left in the dark now, and it was agonizing. There was nothing more she wanted than to be in control again.
Nervously, she picked at her fingers under the table until Draco set his hand on top of hers, holding her still. His thumb gently brushed across her knuckles, trying to calm her.
When they wrapped up their conversation, Draco quickly whisked her away, pulling her quickly back to their room. The second her foot crossed the threshold of their door, her Occlumency dropped. Falling to the floor, she held her knees, pressing her forehead against them.
"You can't let them send more vampires on the battlefield, Malfoy. You can't," she mumbled. "And werewolves? I've already seen several people torn apart by Greyback. I won't see any more."
Draco sat on the floor next to her, sitting up against the door, "I will figure this out, Granger. Just calm yourself, we will have to attend dinner soon."
"Calm myself? Why the fuck didn't you tell me that we were coming here to bring death back with us?"
"It has to be done, Granger. There's no other way around it.
Hermione lifted her head to glare at him. "Did you tell Harry?"
"Yes," he replied, leaning his head back with a sigh.
She scoffed, standing up, making a beeline to the "liquor. Even though her friends kept secrets from her, she believed Draco at least would tell her the reality of what was going on. Draco was handling her like how he would Astoria, holding her close, attempting to block away any discomfort.
"I'm not her. I'm not Astoria. I've been fighting in this war as long as you have. You can't just shove me into dresses and use me as your plaything, Malfoy. I am not yours, and you cannot protect me from everything."
As her hand went to the decanter filled with the brown liquor, Draco was at her side. Before she could touch it, he was already pouring them drinks.
"I can't protect you from everything, but I will try." He handed her a one and drank his quickly. "However, I respect you as a soldier, and know you have worked hard for the past decade. You are owed information about the war, and I will be more transparent about that."
Hermione was stunned at his response. There wasn't an argument or any pushback, the response felt emotionally mature from someone who would rip out someone's throat for misspeaking to them.
"Thank you, Malfoy," she said, taking her drink, feeling it burn as it went down.
He tilted her chin up once more to look her in the eyes. Fangs poked out from under his smile. "What did I say about thanking me for things you deserve?"
—
After a few more drinks and slipping into one of Astoria's hand-selected dresses, Hermione found herself yet again surrounded by vampires, good food, and beautiful women.
Draco's hand was on her thigh, and she noticed that he was drinking much more than she had previously seen, even allowing himself to consume blood from a glass. He was laughing more with the party guests, and seemingly enjoying his time compared to the night previous. It was as if a great burden was lifted off his shoulders after today's discussion.
It may have been a detriment to the Order, but Voldemort would be pleased, making it easier for Draco to navigate being an informant. They were still frantically searching for the betrayer, who would ever guess it would be the one that was bringing back an army of vampires to aid them?
Hermione indulged herself as well, distracting from the gnawing feeling of unease, ignoring the moans of men and women being fed upon by the vampires that littered the room. She drank wine and ate the fine foods that rivaled Hogwarts, wondering if there were house elves making the meals or if there were more scantily clad chefs in the kitchen.
But nothing could distract her from the burning desire to return to the library. She felt close to finding some sort of answer, and the quicker she did, the faster she could leave the gaze of Sanguini.
Draco's cold lips pressed against her ear. "You look so fucking sexy when you eat," he whispered, his fingers kneading into her leg, moving under the skirt of her dress. Though she was full from the food, she instantly felt a hunger for him, wishing he would push his hand further up, not caring if anyone noticed.
"Are you really not going to feed on her?" Sanguini asked. "Seems like such a waste."
Draco wet his lips and turned to the gangly vampire. "She's for special occasions only. Wouldn't spoil yourself on a fine wine, would you? Now, if you'll excuse us, I've got to get Miss Granger off to bed."
He stood, a bit wobbly, and pulled Hermione alongside him. As they made their way back, she felt as if it was her holding onto him this time as he drunkenly stumbled through the halls. He fell asleep instantly, Hermione wrapped in his arms.
It was unusual that when she woke a few hours later, Draco was still fast asleep. She was eager to return to the library, tapping him a few times, just to hear him grumble slightly.
"Malfoy, if you don't get up, I'm going to go by myself," she said, pulling on some clothes. After no response, she left the room, her wand in her sleeve. Hermione was as quiet as a niffler as she pulled the books she was desperately looking for on the shelves. Sitting away from the door, wand in hand, she dove into the text.
Some items and herbs can be used to reduce the negative impacts of vampirism, if they can be combined and amplified and weaved into a counter curse, perhaps it can remove it completely.
Curiously, she read accounts on vampires that had assimilated into human societies. There were many that tried, but ultimately left either due to them being exposed or the fear of hurting someone without a consistent source of blood meals. One testimonial caught her eye. It was a second-hand account, and Hermione almost skipped over it until she saw a singular word.
Horcrux.
The account read of a woman who had known a man that created a horcrux before turning into a vampire. He was able to use it to become human again after he tired of his current status. Though it was just a second hand account, and couldn't be verified completely, it logistically made sense. The part of one's soul captured in the horcrux wouldn't be infected with vampirism. But creating a horcrux was difficult, and required an evil act. They couldn't make Astoria do something so…
"My, my, look who we have here," Sanguini's voice echoed against the bookshelves, startling Hermione enough to draw her wand immediately. The vampire smiled at her, flashing his fangs. "Looks like someone's been a bad girl."