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Delightful Pain	By : sabreenthequeen Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 36329 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
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Delightful
Pain

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Chapter
X: In Control
His POV:
This was it.
Within moments the hammer would beat
against the wooden plate and my fate would be sealed. I stared straight ahead
to where Hermione stood. "Just say yes!" I remembering
screaming at her "Please Hermione. Just end this torture. I can't
handle it any longer. Just say yes and let me go. Set us both free Hermione."
The words were echoing in my head.
I told her to say yes so that I wouldn't
feel this guilt anymore but it wasn't working for some reason. For some reason,
her saying yes didn't mean she was agreeing in sending me to Azkaban but that
she was acknowledging something else, something forbidden.
I couldn't bear to look at her anymore.
It's just that she looked so helpless. It made me feel even more guilty for I
remembered how she used to be. All fiery and stubborn. Her eyes blazing with
determination and wisdom. Her head would burst with knowledge. It was odd
seeing her in class with her hand no longer raised high up in the air trying to
get the attention of Professor Snape who wouldn't call on her no matter how
much she tried to spit out the answer and get called on.
And now?
It was all changed because of me.
The weird part is, I don't understand why
I'm feeling bad for it at all. I mean sure I raped her but I was getting too
emotionally attached. It wasn't as though I liked her or anything. So what was
this? The only thing between us should've been hatred, at least from her side,
but it isn't there. Maybe that's why. Maybe that's why I couldn't stop thinking
about her. She was the first person who ever made me feel this way and she was
the first person to not hate me for all misdeeds I did in life.
My gaze fell upon her so called 'friends'
when looking at her proved to be difficult. If it weren't for the fact that I
was anonymously spreading rumors that I got the Head Girl in the sac, they
would never have known and the Weaslette would never be forced to tell them
that Hermione wasn't a willing participant and that it was rape.
I couldn't stand those friends of hers
but getting them all together probably would have helped me get rid of all this
guilt. It was another one of my acts of repentance. If I hadn't done that, then
I would have been in the hearing waiting for the judge to give me my sentence.
The hammer beat on the wooden plate, it's
echo rippling through the room and rattling my heart.
I was surprised at the imprisonment term
I had to serve.
It was only ten months.
One look at Hermione told me she shocked
at what happened. She stood there frozen solid, her brown eyes had a glaze over
them. She was thinking hard about something. Maybe she was finally accepting
the fact that I raped her and it was about time I was punished for it.
I looked around for my father. There he
sat, trying to look his best and not show how angry and humiliated he felt.
My father who wanted me to follow the
Dark Lord. Who took me there on my 18th Birthday... Whose plan on getting me
initiated didn't work... all because of this trial.
I flinched under his gaze. He was angry
at me, he was disappointed. How could Lucius Malfoy's son actually stoop so low
as to rape a mudblood? How would he face the other Death Eaters? How would he
face the Dark Lord?
I kept thinking about that the whole way
to Azkaban, not really looking anywhere, at anything at all.

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The ways to express how I felt at the
time are too hard to explain. Azkaban was an evil place. Too depressing to even
start to describe. It was cold, it was damp, it was scary. The only thing I
thought of were the bad memories, the sins, the evil deeds I committed.
The odd thing is the evil deeds I
remembered weren't about how I made fun of Potter and Weasley. They weren't
about how I screwed so many girls and broke so many hearts, I lost count. I
wasn't feeling remorseful about those in the least. I didn't care that I've
called the Weasley family so many bad names or the fact that I used Pansy to
relieve me sexually when I needed a quick release.
It was none of that. They didn't matter to me.
The only thing I felt bad was were about
the things I did to Hermione Granger.
As I sat on the stone floors I feel so
alone. So empty. So damn cold.
There weren't any demontors yet their
influence would be still felt there in Azkaban's cells. The silent tears,
the blood. The pleading.
Ten months in that hell hole. Ten months
I would have to endure this. I would go insane. The only consolation I had was
that at least I know that during these ten months, which seem like ten years --
no ten centuries... ten lifetimes...--- she would move on and hopefully forget.
A lot of things could happen in ten
months. In just 2 months Hermione and everyone else would graduate from
Hogwarts. She'd probably be an Auror or a Healer. Her life would be set
somewhere far away from Hogwarts. Far away from the place were all that
happened. The Dark Lord would launch his attack. Either He would win or
Dumbledore would. Even if either side won it wouldn't affect me. Hopefully
it'll all be over by the time I'm released. I wouldn't need to face father's
wrath or his disappointed cold gaze.
Unless of course the Dark Lord planned to
free all the prisoners in Azkaban.
A lot of things would transpire within
those days. Battles, victories, losses, deaths.
There was a tingling sensation in my left
arm. I pulled up the sleeve so I can see the head of the snake burned into my
flesh turn black and glow a mystical green color. It wasn't the full Dark Mark.
Just the tip of the snake's head was all. The entire Dark Mark wasn't able to
be burned into my skin fully.
It happened a month ago, in the month of
March on my 18th Birthday. It was the day Father told me it was time for me to
meet the Dark Lord. It would also mean it would be my time to be initiated. You
can't imagine how excited yet terrified I was. I've been waiting for that day
for years. Waiting to get some action, waiting to be tested of my full strength
for years. If Harry Potter was able to withstand the Dark Lord time after time,
then why couldn't I? I had the wandless magic. I had the full blood. It was my
turn to be apart of the big guys. To show everyone who I really was.

I imagined myself in one side of the
battle field, cloaked and hooded. My wand outstretched, my lips parted to speak
Unforgivables. And then she was on the other side. Glorious in red and gold, a
determined Gryffindor look on her face. In seconds, there would be spells,
hundred upon hundreds. People would fall, others would rise. The Dark Lord
would triumph. Hermione would either be killed or worse... made as someone
else's tool. Someone else sex slave.

When it was the day I had to prove
myself, I did it proudly. It wasn't because I wanted to become the Dark Lord's
favorite. No, it wasn't. It was just that it was a day when I was finally able
to unleash all my anger, my guilt, my frustration. I used my wand first but
then I just threw it away.
I was able to perform wandless magic; a gift
from my ancestors.
It was finally a day where I didn't think
about Hermione or anything. All I felt was pure anger at myself disregarding
the reason why. I hated myself for hurting her and hated myself even more for
feeling bad about hurting her.
Father was pleased. Every thought I had
was gone other than the fact that at last, I would become what I was destined
to be; a Dark Wizard, powerful and unforgiving, superior.
The sharp edge of the Knife of Salazar
was sliced through the pale flesh of my upper left arm. The blood trickled down
the length of my arm. It stung like a bitch, as though hell was ripping my
flesh apart.
Yet I held on. My veins were becoming
visible through my skin. Now all that was needed was the Dark Lord's blood and
my vows and then it would be all complete.
He pierced the inside of the palm of his
hand. His blood was black, not even a hint of red hue. As soon as seven drops
of it would pour into my wound, it would be complete. His blood would enter my
entire body and into my blood. Every blood cell inside me would have his
essence and I would be bonded with him forever. I would be sworn into allegiance
and I would finally be one of them.
But as soon as one drop of his black
blood had dripped into my flesh, I was beginning to rethink what I was doing.
Was it the right thing? Did I want my power to be used and manipulated by a
madman? I wanted so badly to take my hand away. I didn't want to do this.
I was angry and they took advantage of my
helplessness. I didn't want to be used again or ever.
The searing pain from the wound was
beginning to dull my eyesight and everything was becoming blurry. I couldn't
stop the Dark Lord from taking me into his ranks. I couldn't do anything
because the pain was making me lose consciousness.
All I heard was a scream and within
moments the blood from my would was washed away with water and dried.
It was my mother's scream. She received
the letter of my trial date and stopped my initiation. The Dark Lord wasn't
pleased. I'm not too aware of what happened that day, but Mother had been given
a chance to explain. When they realized what may happen, they decided to give me
the Mark after I would get back from the hearing.
I never did go back. I was there, there
in Azkaban with nothing to do but think. The tip of the serpent's head was the
only image there because of that one drop of blood from the Dark Lord. He must
be calling his followers now. Why else would it sting?
I was glad I wasn't really a part of
them.
What would Hermione say?
She'd hate me even more than she does
now.
But isn't that what I wanted? I wanted
her to be mad at me. Maybe that was the reason why I listened to father in the
first place. Maybe it was just a way for me to rid my mind of her and this
guilt and get her to start hating me more than ever. Hate me so much that she
would never want to see my face again and this insanity would finally end.
But I never did get the Mark.
I never did please Father.
I never did get Hermione to start hating
me.
It just wasn't working.

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She must be crazy.
Either that or I'm going insane.
She actually came to visit me.
At first I thought it was just a
illusion, that my mind was playing tricks on me but it was real. She was real.
"Draco?"
I recognized her voice from anywhere. My
head snapped up to the person in the other side of the iron bars. I was taken
to a visiting section of the prison but I didn't think it would be her of all
people to be the one to come visit me. The only person that did so far was my
mother. She was crying like a lunatic.
When I was taken to the visiting cell and
no one was on the other side for a while so I just sat there on the floor and
waited.
And when I heard her soft voice, my head
soar to the ceiling. My heart was thumping so fast. All I wanted to do was run
over to the person who owned the voice and tell her that this wasn't working.
That I wanted out.
But I couldn't look up. I didn't want to
fall apart. Her voice was piercing me and it hurt.
"Draco."
This time her voice was stern. It was
like it was back then. Back when she was normal bookworm, Gryffindor Granger,
before what happened between us happened.
I looked up into her flaring brown eyes
and we simply stared at each other. I don't know how long but it seemed like
ages.
"Come over here," she
commanded.
And I did exactly what she told me
without a second thought, without realizing that I was obeying her. I walked
straight over to her. As soon as I was close enough to her, she grabbed the
collar of my ragged cloak and before I knew what happened, my whole body was
flung forward so that the cold iron bars were digging into the front of my
chest, the only thing between her body and mine. My head was flush against the
bars as well and my forehead had banged against the bar. The impact hurt and
made everything looked dark and I felt dizzy. It stung a lot but the only thing
keeping me from falling or yelling out in pain was her presence. Her warm body
pressed against mine. Her alluring scent. Before I knew it, my lips had been
confined by hers.
The kiss was so passionate. It was a mesh
of tongues, teeth, and lips. Saliva intermingled. There were moans and sighs.
It was furiously fast as though this kiss wasn't enough and we wanted to
swallow each other whole.
I could feel the blood trailing down my
cheek from my injured forehead.
She pushed me back so we were no longer
kissing and then licked her lips as I stared at her in bewilderment.
Her eyes were so fiery. She looked so
much like the real Hermione Granger. Not the pathetic one that I took advantage
of. She didn't have that pleading, sad look on her face. She looked exactly
like the lioness that I hated all these years.
Seeing her look like so much in control,
so much like herself, brought myself to smirk a true smirk.
I wasn't too astounded when she smirked
too. Her fingers went up to my wound and she followed the trail of blood and
outlined the edge of my lips as her tongue licked up some of my blood. I was
still standing there, in complete shock and relished the feeling of her body
pressed against mine and her tongue licking up the blood.
I wanted to ask her what she was doing
here but before I opened my mouth to speak, her tongue already shoved it's way
in there and we were kissing furiously again. I tasted the blood in my mouth
and it sent a jolt of pleasure to ripple all over me down to the tips of my
toes. Tasting the metallic take of my blood was so erotic I couldn't stop. I
wanted her so bad. I missed her much that having her with me made me forget
that were supposed to be away from each other. It's been so long since I held
her. Granted the wretched cell bars were between us but I was still able to
wrap my arms around her waist and draw her close so that I was able to smell
her hair.
I didn't know what that smirk and that
metallic kiss really meant then. It was like we were acknowledging something
outwardly that we knew all along.
We were both confined in this mix of
irresistible lust. It hurt when we were together. We hated each other's guts
but that only made us want each other more.
But it was wrong.
"What are you doing here?" I
was finally able to croak out.
"Just to visit."
"But why?" I hissed.
"I'm going to get you out of
here," she told me, her lips brushing against my own. She lowered her
voice to a small whisper. "The War begun. We found out that Voldemort will
try to free all the prisoners here tonight. That's our chance Draco."
She slipped a small object into my hand.
It was shaped like a paw of a lion. "This is a portkey. Once you get out
of here, use this and it'll transport you to a isolated place. From there floo
to Hogwarts to the Head Common Room. I'll be waiting for you."
My lips were slightly parted in shock.
"I'm trying to free you legally but
the Ministry said they won't hear anything till after the War is over. No one
knows when it will be over, Draco. It might take days, months, years... and I
can't wait that long."
She stared hard into my eyes and traced
the outline of my lips. "You will come won't you?" She said sweetly,
completely unlike the way she was these past few months. I was in awe with her
confidence, with her boldness.
I gulped and then shook my head, taking
my hands away from her waist. I couldn't do it. I couldn't go back to her. Not
when I did all these things to go away, to make her forget, for us to no longer
be imprisoned by the other. "I can't," I said as I took a step back.
I guess I was wrong. Hermione wasn't back
to normal. How could I think so in the first place? She kissed me and now she's
thinking of a way for my escape. She must be out of her mind.
She grabbed my shirt. "You will
come," she hissed. I gave her a confused look. She sighed and loosened her
hold on me. "Listen Draco. This isn't working. You know that,"
she told me with a pleading voice. "I told you that you imprisoned me and
that I wanted out, but it'll never happen. Why can't you understand?" She
said stressing out every word. "I don't know what this thing is between
us, but all I know is that I can't stand for you to be away from me. It's not
working and it won't ever work! I'll hate you even more if you don't
agree."
"Stop this, Hermione," I told
her fiercely as I shook her shoulders, trying to get some sense in her head. I
thought she was smart. Didn't she understand this was foolishness? Insanity?
"You're crazy," I whispered.
"No I'm not. You started this
insanity. I'm just doing what my heart is telling me to do. You can't just say
stop and it'll happen!" she yelled at me.
"I forgot you," I told her,
hoping my harsh words would make her understand. "I don't need to be with
you," I hissed.
"You're lying," she whispered
staring hard into my eyes as if looking for the answer. I tried to keep my face
blank so that she wouldn't know I was lying. "I know you'll come to me.
You said you will. You told me long ago that if you ever get sent to Azkaban,
you will escape and you will come back to me" she said in an oddly cool
manner.
"You're wrong, Granger," I
snapped, switching to her last name to show that I didn't care about her
anymore than I should.
"No Draco. You're wrong. You
are just as trapped as I am by you. I can see it in your eyes. I am in my
senses. I thought about this day and night and I know that what I'm doing is
best for both of us. You being here in Azkaban won't help anyone."
There was silence as she released her
grip on my robes and her facial expression went back to calm and cool. However
there was something scary in her eyes. It was the same determined look she had
on when she kissed me.
"You were always in control,
Draco," she said dangerously, her voice strangely sweet while saying my
name. "Now it's my turn," she smirked., tracing the outline of my jaw
with her finger. I looked away from her eyes but she grabbed my chin and forced
me to look at her. "You will come. I know you will."
She boldly stared into my eyes. Her
chocolate eyes were so dark and full of lust. She held my eyes in such a way where
it felt as though she was really in control of me. As if she knew exactly every
thought I had and everything I would do. Under her steadfast gaze, I felt
myself falling apart. My mind and body torn from what I knew was right and from
what my body wanted me to do.
Of course she was right. Everything she
said was right. This wasn't working and I would have eventually escaped and go
off straight to her but the way she said it was as though she was commanding me
and that it wasn't as a prediction nor because she had faith that what she wanted
would happen.
She kissed me again with her poisonous
addicting lips.
I was wrong all this time. Ever since
that day that I went inside her room for that innocent kiss that turned so
horribly wrong, it wasn't I who was in control of my actions. It was an
illusion. I only thought that I was in control but it was Hermione all
along. Hermione and her deadly, addicting lips.
She was always in control, only this
time...
...I finally figured it out
...and she knew it too.

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Delightful Pain