Chapter 5
Hermione had sometimes tried to imagine what a pureblood mansion would look like, but nothing could have prepared her for the grandeur of Malfoy Manor. It was as if she had stepped into an alternate world, one where plumed peacocks strutted about perfectly manicured lawns and houses were the size of a city block. The inside of the home—if it could even be called that—was a foreign jungle of rich furnishings, chandeliers dripping with crystals, and massive tapestries and paintings that looked costly even to her untrained eye. She could scarcely keep her jaw from dropping as she followed Lucius down a long series of hallways—each more ornately decorated than last. They finally stopped in front of an exquisitely carved door that was far wider and taller than strictly necessary.
"These are his chambers," Lucius said. "He'll be inside."
Hermione's fingers brushed the brass knob, but she made no move to open it. "I think it would be best if I spoke to him alone," she said.
"Out of the question. Who's to say this isn't a ploy to attack him while he's vulnerable?"
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Malfoy and I may not be the best of friends, but I assure you I have no interest in hurting him."
Lucius still looked unmoved.
"What if a house elf came with me?" she asked. "Would that be better?"
"Fine, but I will have your wand as well."
Everything in her rebelled at the thought of giving this man such power over her—but it was a sacrifice she would have to make. With an inward sigh, she relinquished her wand into his hands.
Lucius called for a house elf—a timid female named Pinky. After giving her orders to protect the young master, he turned to Hermione. The coldness in his gray eyes wrapped around her like a vise.
"If you try anything, Ms. Granger, you will be sorry."
Hermione didn't even bother to answer. She pushed open the door and walked boldly inside with Pinky at her heels.
The room was as still as death. Stagnant, stifling air pressed down on her, making her skin clammy. The only light came from a handful of weakly flickering candles.
"Granger." Malfoy's voice drifted to her ears, low and menacing. "You shouldn't be here."
She jumped in spite of herself. The sound had come from the room's four-poster bed, but there was a red curtain pulled around the entire frame. How had Malfoy known it was her?
She stubbornly stamped down her unease. In a single motion, she strode forward and threw back the curtain. At the sight of Malfoy, she nearly staggered back in surprise. Was it possible that he had changed so drastically in just a few short months? He looked shriveled—like all the life and energy had been sucked from his body. He was almost skeletally thin, with sunken cheeks and hollow eyes.
"Hi," she said without thinking. Immediately she was kicking herself for how stupid she sounded. "I came because your father asked me to help you."
"You can't help me," he said flatly. "Just go."
"I think we both know that's not true."
His eyes searched hers, then he pulled out his wand. She tensed instinctively—the emptiness of her pocket screaming out at her—but he only cast a simple Imperturbable charm. Lucius or anyone else listening outside would no longer be able to hear them.
"What are you talking about?" he asked.
She plowed ahead before her courage failed her. "It's me, isn't it? I'm your mate."
She waited for him to deny it, but instead a look of utter panic crossed his face. "Did you
tell my father that?"
"No, I wanted to speak with you first."
He sank back against his pillows. "Good. He can never know."
"It's true, then?" Her voice sounded pathetically small to her ears.
He said nothing, but it was answer enough. "Is it really such a bad thing for your father to find out?" she asked. "I know I'm not the perfect little pureblood mate he was hoping for, but I can still save you with my blood, right?"
He looked away. "My father clearly didn't tell you everything. Once a vampire drinks their mate's blood, the bond is sealed. That means marriage and everything that comes with it. You see why that's a problem, don't you?"
Hermione's stomach twisted. "Because I'm a Muggleborn."
He nodded curtly. "The only way the bond can be broken is by draining the mate's blood and killing them."
Realization dawned with horrible clarity. Her knees suddenly grew weak. "That's what you were trying to do that night. Drain my blood."
"Ten points to Gryffindor," he said bitterly. "You get it now, don't you? You shouldn't be here. Even in my condition, I could still suck out every last drop of blood in your body. You could scream all you wanted, and no one would try to stop me."
"You won't do that."
"How can you be so sure?"
She answered without hesitation. "Because you already had the chance, and you didn't."
He shook his head, clearly agitated. "You overestimate me, Granger. You have no idea
what it feels like. You can't be sure that I won't hurt you."
She noticed for the first time that he was trembling. His hands were fisted tightly in the
sheets—as if to keep himself from doing something he would regret.
"That's not who you are," she said. "You wouldn't do that to someone."
"You're wrong. The problem is you, Granger. I can't do it to you."
She only stared at him—her heart threatening to beat its way out of her chest. Was he saying what she thought he was?
Malfoy chuckled darkly. "It's ridiculous isn't, it? To think that I would fall in love with you after how I've treated you all these years. That's why I don't expect anything from you. I'll handle Pinky, so tell my father you couldn't get anything out of me and forget this ever happened."
Hermione lowered herself onto the edge of the bed and laid her hand over his. To her surprise, he didn't pull away. "You speak like there's only two choices—either I die, or you die. But there's another option, isn't there?"
She swept her mass of curls over her shoulder, exposing her neck. "Drink my blood and seal the mating bond. We'll deal with the rest after."
He drew back as if she had struck him. "You don't know what you're saying. A mating bond isn't something to be taken lightly."
She met his gaze evenly. "I do know, and I'm telling you that I'm alright with it."
"Granger," he ground out. "I won't let you save me out pity. This is the rest of your life we're talking about."
"It's not because of pity," she said impatiently. "I—" She drew a breath, hardly believing what she was about to say. "I love you, ok? So much that I hate myself sometimes. Please, just let me save you."
For a moment, Malfoy gaped at her like a fish out of water. Then he shook his head again, even more vehemently. "I can't." His breath came in short, panicked gasps. "What if I can't control myself? What if I kill you by accident? You're too important, I can't—"
"Malfoy, listen to me," she said forcefully. "I will never be afraid of you." She leaned closer. "Now drink."
His eyes traced the curve of her bare neck with longing. He began trembling even more violently. "Tell me if it's too much," he said, voice strangled. "If I'm hurting you, or—"
"Malfoy!" she said sharply.
"Alright." His breath tickled her ear, making her shiver. "I hope you don't regret this."
She thought that she was prepared, but she still couldn't keep a gasp from escaping her lips as his fangs sank into the tender skin of her neck. It wasn't exactly painful, but was rather a strange, pricking sensation. Malfoy was rigid with tension in the beginning, but he gradually relaxed against her. She still held one hand in hers, but his free one combed her hair gently, making its way through her chestnut waves.
He finally pulled away—a trickle of blood still staining his lips. Her blood. He wiped it away in one smooth motion.
"Are you alright?" he asked, his eyes scanning her with open concern.
"I'm fine." And she was. A little light-headed, perhaps, but also happier than she had
ever been in her life.
Malfoy bandaged the small puncture wounds, ignoring her protests that it wasn't necessary. He was still slightly gaunt, but he looked much stronger than before. There even seemed to be a flush of color in his face—or at least as much color as it was possible for a vampire to have.
She was his mate, she realized, her heart thrilling at the thought. She couldn't help marveling at the bond between them. She had loved him before, but now her feelings had intensified tenfold. One look at Malfoy told her he was experiencing the same thing. The depth of her love for him—and the love that was reflected in his own gaze—almost frightened her.
"So?" she asked, trying to speak lightly. "How was it? I know I'm just a Mudblood, but
was my blood at least palatable?
He pulled her into his arms. Passion radiated from him, yet his embrace was careful—as
if she was made of porcelain and he was afraid of shattering her. "Don't," he said. "I don't want you to call yourself that in front of me ever again. You're not 'just a Mudblood' to me. You never were."
She wrapped her own arms around him, blinking away tears. It seemed silly, but she had never thought she would hear him say those words outside of her dreams.
He eventually released her and sat back with a sigh. "We've really done it now, haven't we? My father is going to be furious."
"Lucius Malfoy doesn't scare me. I'm planning on being Minister of Magic someday, remember? He's about to find out just how stubborn I can be."
He chuckled, and the deep, throaty sound made her insides thrum. "I have no doubt of that, Granger. I have a feeling my father may have finally met his match in you."
"Will you call me Hermione? It doesn't feel right for you to call me by my last name now that we're...mates."
The word came out as little more than a squeak. She was certain that she was red to the roots of her hair, but Malfoy only smiled. "I will, if you call me Draco."
"Agreed."
He stood, pulling her up gently beside him. "Are you ready for this?"
"Ready if you are."
He took her arm gallantly. "Then lead the way...Hermione."
The sound of her name on his lips filled her chest with warmth. She had no illusions that the road ahead of them would be an easy one, but in that moment, she knew that everything would be alright. After all, no matter what anyone said, she wasn't just a Mudblood.
She was Hermione Jean Granger—and Lucius Malfoy was about to learn that fact the hard way.
Author's Note: And that's the end! Thank you so much for reading this story of mine. It was a fun ride for me to write, especially at this time of year. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it, and please do leave a review to let me know your thoughts. They are always much appreciated!
