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They All Taste the Same	By : pomerann Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 22353 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. All characters, concepts and places in the Harry Potter world belong to J.K. Rowling. i make no profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
- 13
Author's Chapter Notes:

Sooo... going all the way back to where we left off at the end of Chapter 3. You're welcome to reread those chapters if you want, to get into the mood, but it's not required.

Enjoy!

Chapter 4 - Original ending

Numb and exhausted, Hermione finally got up and walked around the perimeter of Hogwarts, dragging her feet and wiping her eyes. She arrived at the train station, counted out seventeen guardrails from the south end, and clasped the rail in her hand. Recognizing her magical signature, the guardrail glowed, and the empty train station disappeared in a whirl of dark swirling color to be replaced by an alleyway roughly a half mile from Number 12 Grimmauld Place.

Feeling like an Inferius, she walked the rest of the way back and climbed the steps of the front porch. Her tears had dried, but she knew that it was obvious that she had been crying. Not much to be done about that. She took a deep steadying breath and knocked. There was a pause, and then she heard a flurry of noises muffled by the dark green oak door. Finally, Mrs. Weasley's voice sounded groggily.

"Who is it?"

"Hermione," she answered, but her throat was dry, and not much noise came out.

"Who?"the voice called out again, more firmly this time. Hermione could hear more footsteps approach from the other side.

"Hermione," she said in a louder voice, not without considerable effort.

There was a cacophony of excited voices talking over each other as the door began to open. Before it could open more than a crack, the door slammed closed with a bang and she heard Lupin's gruff voice. "Ask her."

"But Remus!" she heard Mrs. Weasley protest.

"She could be injured!" Harry countered.

"Ask. Her."

Ron's voice rang out next. "Who did you turn into the first time you took Polyjuice potion?"

She smiled ruefully at the memory. It was a trick question. Ron could be quite clever when he wanted to be. She raised her voice again and answered, "Millicent Bulstrode's cat."

At this, the door flung open and she felt herself being pulled in and smothered by a throng of warm bodies, all hugging and kissing her. Questions and exclamations sounded in her ears, much faster than she could process.

"Where have you been!"

"I was at—"

"— have you seen Padma?"

"No, she—"

"Are you hurt?"

"I don't… no—"

"Was it the Death Eaters?"

"Yes, but—"

"— wearing a Hogwarts uniform?"

"I—"

"Is that a Slytherin tie?"

She put her face in her hands and groaned.

"Back off, you lot! Give her some air!"

She felt herself being wrapped in Mrs. Weasley's soft, motherly embrace and shuffling upstairs to her room. Harry and Ron immediately followed but the matron shooed them away, closing the door in their faces. "Go away; we don't even know if she's hurt yet."

"She said she wasn't hurt!" Ron countered, but she silenced him with a glare.

"Can't you see she's not feeling quite right? Leave us alone for a while; you can have her later."

She pushed them out and shut the door on their loud protests. Hermione didn't much want to talk to Mrs. Weasley, but she was thankful for efforts in evoking quiet. Feeling dazed, she sat down on her bed and watched Mrs. Weasley cast an imperturbable charm on the door. She heard a loud curse as the two hovering on the other side of the door realized that Extendable Ears wouldn't work now. Her lips formed a half smile. You couldn't get anything past this woman. She had raised seven Weasley children, after all – including the twins.

Mrs. Weasley cast a silencing charm on the door to muffle their protestations. "Now then, dear." The bed creaked and angled down slightly as Mrs. Weasley sat next to her. She took Hermione's hand in hers and looked her directly in the eyes. "Are you alright? Are you injured?"

Hermione tried to answer, but her voice rasped and she had to clear it before speaking. "Yes, I'm fine. It was just," she paused, "a very exhausting experience."

Mrs. Weasley's eyes were searching her face and her body, trying to see what was amiss. Feeling uncomfortable under the scrutiny, Hermione looked down. "How about I make you a cup of tea and bring you some biscuits?" She patted her hand. "You get off to bed and we'll talk in the morning."

"No, Mrs. Weasley, I need…" She took a breath. Mrs. Weasley looked at her patiently. "I have to tell you. There's a lot we don't know. And then…" She cleared her throat again. "You need to tell the rest. Tonight. I just can't face them right now."

Mrs. Weasley's lips were parted slightly. Hermione could tell she was very anxious, and forcing herself not to ask too many questions. "All right, then." She waited for Hermione to talk, but Hermione couldn't quite find the words. All she could see was Draco disappearing into the Forbidden Forest, leaving her forever.

She squeezed her eyes tight and felt more hot tears spill.

"Shhhhh… there, there." Mrs. Weasley drew her into a maternal hug and stroked her hair. Hermione let her body relax and lay limp against her plump, comforting body. "You don't have to say anything now, dear. Just get some—"

"Nnn… no." Hermione wiped her eyes and then hiccupped a sob. "It was Padma."

"Padma? Where is she? Was she with you? We've been look—"

"Traitor," she said, rubbing her eyes again. "She betrayed me."

Mrs. Weasley didn't say anything for a minute, and then asked, "Are you sure it was her?" Her ring snagged in Hermione's curls and she winced as Mrs. Weasley extracted her fingers.

"Yes," Hermione said, her voice muffled. "She knew about the time that Ginny…" Her voice trailed off.

She felt Mrs. Weasley tense, her hand pause in mid-air.

"She knew," she whispered, not continuing the sentence.

Mrs. Weasley resumed stroking her hair, more gently now. "So where is Padma now?"

Hermione sat up and pressed her palms to her eyes. They were swollen and itchy from all the tears. "I don't know. I didn't see her. I should have asked… I didn't think…"

"You can't think of everything all of the time; especially considering the circumstances," Mrs. Weasley said as she waved her wand in front of Hermione's face.

Gradually, the itching stopped and the swelling went down. Hermione removed her hands and saw that her vision was clear and the blurriness of her tears gone. She gave Mrs. Weasley a grateful smile. "Thanks."

"So where have you been all this time?"

Hermione's head snapped up. "What?"

"You've been gone for a week, dear."

Hermione felt her stomach lurch. "A… a week?"

"You don't remember?"

Her voice came out in a rush. "No! I thought I was just there the night! I need…" She looked around, searching for what she knew wasn't there. "I need to get a wand! I have to talk with Harry and Ron! The mission! We need to —"

Mrs. Weasley caught Hermione's hands and pressed them down to her lap. Hermione felt like a frantic mess, and that must have shown in her eyes. Mrs. Weasley gave her hands a light squeeze. "You need to rest. Why don't you just lie down—"

"No, let me finish." She felt that she would start crying again. She had already started to speak and didn't want to have to rehash the events of the night again. "Please." Mrs. Weasley didn't say anything; she just pursed her lips and nodded.

"They brought me to Malfoy Manor."

Mrs. Weasley's eyes widened in surprise, but she didn't comment on the fact that they had thought the Manor to be abandoned.

"Did they hurt you?"

Hermione looked down at her hands. "No, it wasn't like that. I…" She wasn't sure how much she should tell, or how much she wanted to tell either.

"Did they… force you?" Mrs. Weasley asked with a tone that was too light, feigning much more nonchalance than she must have felt.

Hermione felt her eyes close involuntarily as she remembered Draco's tongue curling back into his mouth when he first tasted her blood, and the look in his eyes. Unbidden, images came to her of Draco kissing her, Draco licking her, Draco biting her, and Draco thrusting into her. His moans of ecstasy as she drank from him echoed in her ears. She opened her eyes to see Mrs. Weasley searching her face again.

"I… no. Not really. It's… complicated."

Mrs. Weasley's eyes hardened and the grip on her hands tightened slightly. Hermione swallowed; she'd have to tell them about Draco. They needed to know; she couldn't determine if the lack of knowledge would harm them one day.

"No, Mrs. Weasley, really. He didn't… he let me go. He brought me back safely to the Hogwarts Portkey."

"Who did, dear?"

She felt her voice constrict as she said his name. "Draco Malfoy."

Mrs. Weasley knitted her brows in concern and Hermione pulled her hands back.

"Draco Malfoy?"

"He's a… a vampire now."

"You can't be serious!" Mrs. Weasley gasped.

"And a very strong wizard. The change has amplified his magic. He performs non-verbal spells wandlessly with more ease and power than we do with wands."

She looked incredulous. "How is that even possible? I thought–"

"I don't know, but I've seen it. He's very powerful."

"Then why hasn't he been fighting?"

Hermione looked pleadingly into Mrs. Weasley's disbelieving eyes. "The rest weren't aware and… he didn't let them know. I've been telling everyone all these years. He doesn't care for their cause; it was only his parents he worried about."

"So what has he been doing for them?"

"What would a vampire do as a Death Eater? Torturing, executing… I don't rightly know. I don't think I want to know."

"Is that why you were brought to him?"

Hermione nodded and looked at her hands.

"But instead of killing you, he… let you go," Mrs. Weasley said, searching Hermione's face. Hermione nodded again, wordlessly.

"So why have you been crying, dear? What did he do to you? Did he..."

Hermione took a deep breath and looked into Mrs. Weasley's sympathetic eyes.

"He…" she hiccupped and a sob broke through. She couldn't keep it in anymore. "He left!" Mrs. Weasley looked surprised, not expecting that answer at all but drew her into a warm embrace just the same.

"He… left?"

She spoke through her crying. "I tried to persuade him to come to our side, to fight with us. I thought he would! But he said he didn't think he'd be able to control… he thought that he would…" Her shoulders heaved with another sob. "And now, he… he's gone!" Her voice cracked, and she felt the tears streaming down her face anew. Mrs. Weasley tightened her hold and slowly rocked her.

"Shhh," Mrs. Weasley said, stroking her hair. "Hush, now."

She held her for a few moments more while Hermione's sobs weakened and the tears stopped coming. They sat there for a few minutes in silence before Mrs. Weasley spoke again. "You'd best get to bed, you'll feel stronger tomorrow after a good rest. Let's get you out of that uniform."

Hermione stood up and started undressing herself. She felt like a ragdoll as Mrs. Weasley began tugging on her sleeves, hurrying the process along. She glanced around for her nightclothes and smiled gratefully as they were pressed into her hands.

"Are you sure you don't want anything to eat?" She could see Mrs. Weasley checking her body surreptitiously for bruises as pulled the plaid flannel nightshirt over her head.

Hermione shook her head to the negative. "No, thanks."

After slipping on her pajamas, Hermione crawled under the covers and Mrs. Weasley kissed her forehead.

"I won't tell them about that last part," she whispered, giving Hermione a pitying look and turned towards the bedroom door.

"Thank you," Hermione whispered back.

She opened the door and Hermione could see Ron and Harry's heads straining to see into the darkness of the bedroom past Mrs. Weasley's plump frame before she shut the door behind her. The closing of the door was immediately followed by mutinous shouting. Hermione smiled at their insistence on seeing her. It was good to know that she was loved so deeply, but she just couldn't deal with Harry and Ron right now, and Mrs. Weasley seemed to understand that.

As she drifted off to sleep, she could hear snippets of voices travel up from the kitchen.

"Padma did what?"

"—blamed her for Parvati—"

"—a bloody vampire?"

"Watch your language! You're not so old that I won't—"

Hermione turned over under her duvet to look out the window.

"—let her go?"

"—not sure what he did to her—"

"—how vampires are Molly, don't be naïve."

As her eyes slowly drifted shut, she thought she saw a hooded figure standing on the rooftop of the adjacent house.

"—don't think she remembers—"

"—smells different."

It was dark and she was tired. Her eyes must be playing tricks on her. She fingered the green and silver tie that Draco had given her and drifted off to sleep.

Ooooo

Harry and Ron were sitting on her bed, having brought breakfast up to her. Or maybe it was lunch. The sun looked to be fairly high in the sky. Harry was studying her, trying to see if her expressions would reveal what Mrs. Weasley had left out, or what Hermione wouldn't say. They thought she couldn't remember everything. She had heard them discussing her down in the kitchen. They were trying to figure out exactly what had happened to her. She felt like she was under a microscope.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked for the third time.

"I'm fine, Harry," she said, trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice and failing.

Ron glanced at Harry with an I-told-you-so look on his face.

"Can we get you anything?" Ron asked cautiously.

Hermione gave a tired sigh. "Food and rest should be enough. Thanks."

"Are you sure you're not in pain? We have plenty of potions and salves. You're not… wounded… are you?"

She saw his eyes slip furtively to her neck. Her hair was pulled back. If Draco hadn't healed her wounds so proficiently they would be clearly seen. At least Ron had the decency to blush when she caught him searching.

"No, not wounded. Would you feel better if I was?" Ron's face fell and she immediately regretted her snappish words.

"Come on, Hermione," Harry chastised her. "We care about you. We know you've been though a lot, but you don't have to be such a…" his voice trailed off.

"Bitch?" she said with a half grin.

He gave her a sheepish smile and pushed his glasses up his nose, neither confirming nor denying.

"Look. Harry, Ron, I'm sorry. It's just… Can we please discuss something important?. The diadem, for example?"

"Destroyed," Ron answered, struggling to keep his bright blue eyes on her face instead of her neck. "But we had a hell of a time doing it without you."

She sipped her tea. "And you confirmed the cup is in the Lestrange vault?"

"It's in the vault alright," Harry said. His eyes shifted up from her neck. He had been looking when he thought she hadn't been paying attention. "But there was no time to plan the break in; we were busy."

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"Searching for you and Padma," he continued.

"Oh," she said quietly, and then gave them a small smile. It was good to know that they could still function without her. They didn't give themselves enough credit. "That's good. When will Bill get here? We'll need his help to break into Gringotts."

"He said he'll be here by tonight," Ron said, and then continued cautiously. "Are you sure you're up to this?"

"Yes," she answered, trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice. She noticed that Ron and Harry were fidgeting more than usual. Not a good sign. Their restraint was failing.

Ron continued, despite her tone. "He has all of the floor plans and an interactive map of the caverns below that he got from one of his Goblin contacts."

Hermione nodded while swallowing her porridge. "That's good. I'd hate to get lost down there. Those tunnels go on for miles."

She had just raised another spoonful to her mouth when Ron suddenly blurted out, "Did he drink from you?"

Her hand paused, and then fell down. The spoon clinked in the bowl. She sighed, closed her eyes, and then opened them again. Both Harry and Ron were staring at her, not letting her off the hook.

"Yes."

She watched Ron's eyes flash in anger and his hands ball into fists. Harry swallowed and continued the query. "And did he—"

"Look," she said, cutting him off. "He's a vampire. That's what vampires do. He drank from me, he healed me, and then he let me go. He's not truly on their side; he never has been. I've been telling you that all along. And I…I…" She didn't want to start crying again, so she summoned a tone of reprimand to her voice, hoping she didn't sound too defensive. "I really don't want to talk about it anymore."

Ron was glaring daggers at her. Frustrating as they were, she knew it came from the protective love that the three felt towards each other. They had been through so much together. She brought her eyes to Harry, who was observing her with an odd expression, one that unsettled her more than Ron's anger.

She supposed that they would more or less guess what had happened. Ron would be in denial for a while, not quite thinking beyond getting revenge. But Harry, he knew. She could see it in his eyes. They had studied vampires in Defence Against the Dark Arts. She shifted uncomfortably on her bed; Harry's gaze was making her queasy. She could deal with Ron's anger, but she couldn't sit here with Harry looking at her like that.

She climbed out of bed and headed for the bathroom.

"I'm going out for a walk."

Ron piped up. "Do you want us to—"

"No," she snapped. She stopped at the doorway, closed her eyes and took a breath. "No, thank you," she said with genuine contriteness. She turned around to look at her two best friends. They were only trying to help her, to support her. "I'll see you this evening when Bill comes."

Ron and Harry watched Hermione as she exited the room and shut the bathroom door behind her. A few minutes later, they heard her turn on the shower.

Ron stared at the doorway that she had just exited, and then exhaled sharply through his nostrils. "Harry, I'm going to kill him."

"He's already dead," Harry quipped.

"Not dead enough."

Chapter End Notes:

Do the last few lines sound familiar? ;)

What do you guys think? Is it weird going back to this after all that's happened in the alternate ending?
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They All Taste the Same