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Finding Peace	By : goldhorse Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 18556 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the HP franchise. JK Rowling does. I make no money doing this. That's why I work 2 jobs.

Chapter List
- 1-Finding Peace
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 4-4
- 1
- 2
AN: So... Muse and I were feeling a little down and we decided to write something melancholy, dark and gloomy, but not twisted. (I can hear your groans now. Sorry, just not feeling it.) Please be aware that the story does mention rape, though there is ABSOLUTELY NO description. It also mentions suicide and the possibility of abortion. Now that I've thoroughly depressed you... enjoy.

Her eyes felt heavy as she made her rounds. They drooped, the limited vision threatening to let her run into the nearest wall or do a header down a flight of stairs. She should just go back to her dorm and try to sleep but the nightmares that awaited her wouldn’t allow it. There was nothing to do but fight through the pain of exhaustion and trek on. The halls were deserted, par for the course on a Monday night… wait… make that Tuesday morning. It was two A.M. Another day survived, a bittersweet victory.
A nearby thud made her start, her eyes having slid shut without her permission. She couldn’t have been out long enough for another nightmare, especially since she was still upright. She held her lit wand aloft to investigate. Before the war, she might have been cautious, perhaps even scared. Not now. She’d seen hell first hand and there was nothing else that could be worse. Not even death. Not anymore.
Ten paces brought her to an alcove she knew well, a small little jut in the wall behind a tapestry. It was dark, quiet, and completely undetectable. She’d found it her first week back after the war. After pacing the castle hallways at four in the morning to calm down from yet another bout of nightmares, she tripped and fell into the tapestry, or rather through it. There was a small stone bench at the back that she’d curled up on to regain her composure and accidentally fell asleep and into another nightmare.
She sighed and shook her head. The only threat was in her mind. She pulled back the tapestry, revealing luminescent eyes. They studied their surroundings with confusion. Dark circles under the glowing eyes made it clear what was happening.
“Malfoy?” she whispered.
He blinked and held up a hand to block the light but she’d seen enough. Sighing, she brought her wand closer to her face to highlight her own dark circles and luminescent eyes. He stilled immediately, studying her like a puzzle before he couldn’t help himself anymore. He was on his feet, creeping forward like one would stalk a wounded wild animal. She snorted. She wouldn’t run. She didn’t care anymore.
“Granger,” he said softly, not a question but a statement. “I never noticed.”
“Too caught up in your own misery?” she asked dully as he leaned in to sniff her neck.
“Did you notice me then?” he murmured, satisfied that her scent was as expected.
“Not particularly,” she said sadly, unable to help grabbing a sniff for herself. “Too exhausted.”
He smelled like leaves and dirt, rotting meat, and musk. It wasn’t wholly unpleasant. Her tastes had changed considerably since the war. Malfoy might have once been an enemy but one sniff had changed that. Suddenly, he was an ally, someone who might actually understand.
“Does anyone know?” Malfoy asked softly as he watched her trying to memorize his smell.
“Harry,” she whispered. “And Ron.”
“That’s it?”
“Snape figured it out. But I didn’t want anyone else to know.”
He nodded. “Understandable. My parents disowned me.”
She sighed and closed her eyes. She wasn’t surprised. She would have probably had a larger support system than Malfoy, but even her closest friends were leery of her. It wasn’t even her as much as the unpredictability of her condition and the way it was slowly twisting her mind. The only person willing to brew the potion that would help her maintain her sanity could no longer touch the silver utensils used to make it. The war had taken more than just ordinary life.
“Anyone else know about you?” she asked.
“Snape,” he said, leaning in to smell her again.
It was a move for comfort and she didn’t mind. She hadn’t smelled her own kind since the war, and exactly appreciated it at the time. Her sire was dead and she thanked Merlin and every God that she could think of for that. No one else should have to suffer from the debilitating disease...or what happened when she contracted it. But it seemed Malfoy had now joined her in the suffering.
“Can you sleep?” she whispered, lying her head on his chest with some caution.
He shuddered and laid his cheek on the top of her head. Others would think them insane, especially considering their past. But war changed more than mere feuds and prejudices. He was her only hope for any semblance of normalcy, especially with the full moon always around the corner. He might be her only chance for sanity. She had to forge a truce and softening was the first step. His return of the gesture was the second. No one had taught her this. Malfoy probably didn’t have any knowledge of dynamics either. Instincts were driving them.
“No more than a few minutes at a time,” he finally said, nuzzling into her hair and bringing her arms around him.
“I’m going to go insane,” she whispered, pulling him in closer.
He wrapped her in his arms. “I think we should run.”
“We?”
“The only reason I haven’t yet is because our kind doesn’t do so well alone. Just look at how Lupin fared before and after.”
She nodded and squeezed him tighter. Remus was the gentlest person she’d ever known but he was a vicious beast during the full moon. Every turn took more out of him and he had wasted away over the years. After he’d married Tonks, his color returned as well as his health. He still looked haggard but his demeanor had changed. She wished he were still alive. He’d know how to help her curb the dark thoughts that circled around her head and tortured her in the dead of the night when she couldn’t fight back. But Malfoy was the only werewolf she’d come across since the war. The rest had been slaughtered. Running away seemed like their best bet until she could control herself. Her friends smelled like a four course meal even in human form; she couldn’t trust herself.
“Do you have money?” she asked.
He snorted. “I’m not a pauper, Granger.”
“You’ve been disowned.”
He stiffened and then sighed. “I have my own vault. It’s enough to live on for the rest of our lives, however long that is. We’ll just have to be modest.”
She snorted. “Didn’t think modesty was in your vocabulary.”
“Priorities change,” he said quietly. “Blood purity was number one until sixth year.”
“Why sixth?”
“He was a half-blood. Snape told me that. I realized too late that blood didn’t matter. Pride became number one. But I lost that on the tower.”
“No,” she said, burying her nose into the crook of his neck. “You gained compassion.”
“I was a coward.”
“If not killing is cowardice, I’d want to be a coward.”
He hummed in agreement. “After that, survival was number one. Whatever it took. No matter what the cost as long as I kept my soul intact. Even during my turn.”
She shuddered. “When did he bite you?”
“Right after Potter came back from the dead. It was chaos and he decided I was a good target.”
“He must have gotten to you just moments before he got me. I remember Harry calling Voldemort out.” She jumped when Malfoy went stiff but relaxed, realizing that it was a reaction to the name and not her. “Harry yelled and distracted me. I was hit from behind.”
“How did you get away?”
She shuddered and curled further into his arms, trying to block out the memories. Fenrir was a biter for sure, but she was female and he was itching to finish what he’d started in the Manor months prior. The pain from the bite had luckily dulled the rest of her senses, but it didn’t stop the memories.
“You didn’t,” he said softly, his grip tightening.
“I didn’t feel much after the bite but it was…I couldn’t fight…. I don’t remember how long until Voldemort fell,” she whispered. “The explosion was enough to distract... Ron found me and cast a silver spell. It hurt.”
“But it was enough,” Malfoy said sadly. “I guess our stories are the same.”
She frowned and looked up into his eyes, haunted and glowing silver in the darkness. She thought Fenrir had violated her beyond the bite because she was a female. But if Malfoy had experienced the same….
“Longbottom beheaded Nagini,” Malfoy whispered. “And we weren’t but a few feet away in another hall where everyone could see. I don’t know if they did. He was on a power trip. But the backlash from her death… interrupted him. I imagine that’s why he went for you. To finish… God, Granger. I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault,” she said, pulling him over to the bench and curling up with him for comfort. They both could use some just then and instincts were driving them together.
She’d relived her attack a million times since the war. It had taken the entire summer to rebuild Hogwarts with the knowledge that McGonagall had extended invitations to previous 7^th years as soon as the castle had been restored. Hermione had spent the entire time contemplating just killing herself. She was tainted in more ways than one. She’d nearly done so after the first turn.
Even though Ron and Harry had found her a suitable cave and spelled silver bars in front of it so she couldn’t escape, it had been almost unbearable. She’d nearly ripped herself apart from the pain alone but her friends had dutifully put her back together. She’d wanted to die but they wouldn’t let her. And since then, she’d tried suicide more times than she could count, each time just as unsuccessful as the next. She thought they couldn’t save her at Hogwarts and had agreed to return just for that reason. But they’d followed, thwarting every attempt. Now, as she felt Malfoy’s tears fall on her neck, she wondered if he hadn’t experienced something similar.
“Snape won’t let me die,” Malfoy growled in between sobs. “He always finds me. Says that even if he can’t make the turn better, he refuses to see me give up.”
“Bloody vampire,” Hermione growled. “Just like Harry and Ron. Always meddling where they aren’t wanted.”
“You want to die,” Malfoy said, drawing back suddenly.
“Don’t you?” she asked, staring into his eyes.
“Of course,” he said, some of his haughtiness returning. “I’m tainted beyond simple blood purity and disgraced from wizarding society. Not to mention the pain and the nightmares and the smell. But running away is the next best thing. And who knows after that?”
She hummed and curled back into him. “Where would we go?”
“Away. A forest somewhere maybe, far away from humans, too far to trek in a night.”
“So we can’t kill,” she whispered and he nodded. “But what about our magic?”
“I’ve never had the presence of mind to use it. Have you?”
“Haven’t thought about it… but I guess not.”
“We should leave suddenly. No note. No lengthy planning sessions to draw suspicions. No belongings to analyze. No contact ever again. Enough wards to keep them from finding us.”
“They won’t like that.”
He smirked. “Decidedly not. But it’s better that way.”
She nodded. It really was. If they left no trace, then people might not ever know why they left. If they stuck around, they’d be ostracized for certain. No one could hide such a horrible secret forever even though she didn’t think Harry and Ron would talk. The Malfoys certainly wouldn’t. And Snape, no one wanted to be near the man now that he was a cursed creature of the night, one of four newly turned during the war, the only four left in Europe. No one had expected creatures to come into such large play, but they had with a vengeance. Luckily, only vampires and werewolves could spread their curses. The rest were just assassins.
“Why with me?” she asked.
“Things change, Granger,” he said with a sigh. “I’d rather not be left alone with my thoughts and I’m sure you understand the nightmares.” She nodded. “Besides, it’s time to let the past go.” She nodded again. “And you can help me navigate the muggle world. You’re a good ally.”
She chuckled. “Slytherin.”
“Always,” he said dryly. “Come on. No one would suspect us to leave early on a Tuesday morning several weeks into the school year when we haven’t so much as looked at each other. The full moon won’t be here for three weeks. We’ll have plenty of time to find some place to settle.”
“Okay,” she whispered, untangling herself from him and making her way out of the alcove. “Where will we meet back up?”
“Front doors,” he said. “Fifteen minutes.”
She nodded and raced off, quietly slipping upstairs to pack all of her things. She was tempted to say goodbye to her friends, but Malfoy was right. It was better this way. There was no wolfsbane to keep her in line. Ron and Harry didn’t have animagus forms so they couldn’t risk keeping her company during the turn. Without a maker to teach her the ropes, her mind was dangerously unstable. Being with Malfoy would help in that area. Besides, if they both wanted to die, she had a feeling that he would help her in a mutual suicide, one where no one else could interfere.
She sighed and snuck down to the front doors, thankful for her newfound werewolf strength and stealth. They wouldn’t have a trace of anything to find her, not even a portrait to rat them out. Her cloak kept her face hidden anyway. Malfoy was skidding to a stop just as she got there.
“Ready?” he asked quietly.
“No,” she said wryly. “Let’s go.”
He smirked and opened the door, looking once over his shoulder to make sure no one could follow them. A silvery form appeared and they froze.
“Leaving?” Lavender Brown’s voice echoed through the halls.
“Yes,” Hermione said firmly and dragged Malfoy through the doors, her eyes flaring in a dare.
“I won’t say anything,” Lavender said sadly. “Had I lived after my attack, I probably would have run too.”
Hermione swallowed and nodded, remembering that the werewolf had mauled poor Lavender quite thoroughly before he’d found another victim... or two. “Why haven’t you moved on?”
Lavender sighed and shrugged. “I never found the white light. I was too busy trying to help my friends.”
“I hope you find it,” Malfoy said softly as he pulled Hermione backwards. “Everyone deserves peace.”
Lavender nodded and watched as the doors started to close. “I hope you find it too.”
The two werewolves grabbed their trunks and stalked off into the night, Lavender’s wishes in their ears.

AN: Now that you're all miserable, I'll tell you that this was going to be the last chapter. But I couldn't leave it alone. It is going to be a short fic, no more than three or four chapters. Updates will be quick but not lightening. I really do have a second job to contend with. This one seems to be taking a lot out of me to write... but it's kind of cathartic in a way. Drop me a line and let me know what you think. Until next time... love you guys!
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Finding Peace