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Black Widow	By : goldhorse Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 35493 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: I don't own HP, JKR does. I make no money doing this but I do get carpel tunnel.

Chapter List
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His lungs hurt. He’d never pushed himself that hard before. When he couldn’t possibly sleep anymore or do any more sit ups, he’d gone for a run, a long one. All that did was make his lungs burn. The darkness was still there, like tar in his veins. It wouldn’t go away. He’d have to take the potion then. He trudged up to the room, the one place in the house he’d refused to enter since her.
“Took you long enough.”
He flinched at the sound of her voice and turned his head so he wouldn’t have to see her draped over the chair in the far corner.
“Not expecting me then?”
“Not particularly,” he said curtly. “How did you get in here anyway?”
“I made friends with a ghost.”
“Figures.”
“You can’t beat the darkness.”
He huffed. “Give me a minute.”
“No. You’ve run out of minutes.”
“Not yet,” he growled. “I just need that potion.”
“You don’t have to take it.”
“I’ve tried everything else.”
“So you’ve found a whore then?” Her voice wavered.
He cringed again and quickly crossed the room, ignoring the shift he heard her make.
“Embarrassed?”
He snorted and started digging through his cabinets, wondering where the Knights had placed his stash. “No Granger, I did not find a whore. Leave it alone.”
“Did you know they were going to recruit me when you started working on my… me?”
“Still tongue tied?” he asked instead of answering.
She glared at him. “Obviously. Answer the question.”
“No,” he said softly. “Potter came to me first.”
“So it wasn’t your job.”
He growled and started throwing things out of the cabinet. It had to be there somewhere.
“You’re stalling,” she called.
“No, Granger,” he said through gritted teeth. “I did it as a favor to a friend.”
“Then when did Kingsley get involved?”
He frowned when the last thing flew from the cabinet and there was still no potion. “That day in the holding cell, remember?”
She colored and he smirked at her. There was still a bit of the shy girl he’d seen. He wondered just how much. Would she still blush if he talked dirty to her? Would she still tremble if he ordered her to kneel? Would her eyelids flutter if he restrained her arms? He quickly shut that train of thought down and started casting detection spells at the cabinet.
“You weren’t opposed to recruitment, though.”
He huffed and stopped what he was doing, turning to look at her. “Not really. Potter was all for recruiting you when he found out about your gift. It would have been a straight nomination but he thought about it just the same. And I saw his point but you weren’t ready. Now you are. Anymore inane questions you need to ask before I continue my search?”
“Was it all a lie?”
He closed his eyes in pain. Damn. Of course she’d have to ask the one question he didn’t to answer. Was it all a lie? Of course it wasn’t. He’d done it because Potter had reminded him he loved her and that he could save her. He’d tried his damnedest because he couldn’t stand to see another person he loved lost to a fucking bloodstone. He’d lost himself in her, enjoyed every second of it like the sick bastard he was. But she’d hate him if she knew that. And she’d hate him even more if he lied to her. So he sucked in a deep breath and stood up, returning all of the things to the cabinet with a flick of his wand. His potion wasn’t really there anyway.
“No.”
“Which part was the lie, Malfoy? Was it when you said I was beautiful or that I wasn’t weak?”
He sighed and hung his head. “They weren’t lies, Granger, no matter how much you wanted them to be. You wouldn’t be a Knight if you were weak. You wouldn’t have beaten my grades if you weren’t smart. And….” He swallowed and went to the loo to search there.
“And?” She asked, peeking into the room from the doorway.
He yanked the towels out to give him something to do so he wouldn’t have to look at her. “And if you weren’t so bloody beautiful, that bastard’s plan would have never worked. Alluring charms only go so far, Granger. You have to catch their eye first.”
“You won’t find the potion,” she said after he’d ransacked his cabinets.
“Why the bloody hell not?” he snapped, hitting the end of his rope.
She held the precious bottle up in her hand. “You don’t need it.”
He rubbed his eyes in frustration. “I already told you that I’ve tried everything.”
“Not everything.”
“I don’t want a whore!” he yelled, quailing a bit when he realized she was trembling in fear. “Sorry,” he sighed. “Please give me the potion, Granger. I’ll be fine after I take it.”
“You didn’t come train me.”
He frowned at the sudden change of subject. “I wasn’t asked to.”
She cocked her head. “Why not? I trained with everyone else.”
He sighed. “My specialty is dark magic, Granger. I’m usually immune to it. I can fight the effects longer and get rid of the residue faster. You’ve been saturated in it for years and with a little help, you fought it. Consider our last night together as passing your final. You learned what true submission and true domination was and that is all anyone can know about defeating the darkness. Now please, hand me the bottle and let me handle this.”
She studied him for a long time, long enough to make his skin crawl. He considered snatching the bottle away from her but he knew better. If she was a Knight now, it meant she’d been well versed in combat. And he knew from experience that Luna was formidable. Hermione would be unrelenting, not afraid to go for the throat so to speak. So he held still and waited her out, paying close attention to the darkness writhing around inside him. He fought it down and focused his attention on her.
“Why don’t you want a whore?”
He scowled at her. “That’s a bit personal isn’t it?”
She quirked an eyebrow. “So was my arse.”
His jaw dropped in shock. Wow. Well, if she was going to be like that… “Whores are cold. If I wanted to get off, my hand is much faster and warmer than they would ever be. Besides, they don’t like being dominated. You can pay for them to be submissive, but I can tell the difference.”
“So you don’t have a sub somewhere?”
He shrugged. “I’ve found a few here and there willing to play but that kind of appointment takes time. I can fight it off well before that happens. If possible, I schedule a meeting when I know I’ll be saturated in dark magic.”
She looked away, embarrassed by his bluntness but she’d asked so he’d told her. “How many appointments have you had since me?”
He tightened his jaw in annoyance. What was with her? She hated him. She should let him be.
“How many?” she insisted.
“None,” he growled. “Alright? None. Get out, Granger. I’m done having a chat.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “Why are you being such an arse?”
“Granger,” he growled. “I get it. You hate me. I treated you like shit and took something from you that you’ll never get back and when I was finished, I threw you to the Knights. You had no choice. I get it. I’m sorry. If there was another way, I would have tried it. Quit rubbing it in.”
Her lip quivered. “That’s what you think I’m doing?”
“What do you want me to say?” he said softly. “The only thing I lied about was you being a job. And yes, I feel so fucking guilty that I can’t bear to touch another person. I can’t even stand to touch myself. So mission accomplished. I officially feel like shit. I hope it brings you some sort of peace.”
She brushed the tears that had fallen on her cheeks away. “You didn’t say you regretted it.”
He sniffed. “That’s because I can’t. I did the right thing and you’re free. I can’t say I regret that.”
“You don’t regret freeing me,” she said, straightening out and steeling herself. “But the rest?”
Red hot anger swelled inside him and he turned to punch the mirror, shards of glass flying everywhere. He panted through the pain, needing the sharpness of it to gain clarity.
“No,” he whispered. “I don’t regret it.”
“How you acted with me,” she said, her words oddly stilted. “How you treated me during our… trysts… that’s the real you. Isn’t it?”
He nodded, his fingers tightening on the basin, shards of glass cutting into his skin. He watched dispassionately as small beads of blood trekked down his fingers and into the sink. Somehow it hurt less if he concentrated on his physical wounds. He didn’t know how she’d done it, but she’d gotten to him. Maybe he was too soft when it came to her, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.
“Malfoy.” He kept his head down. “Malfoy!” No, he wouldn’t respond. He’d said too much. “Draco, please, look at me.”
She’d said his name, her, Hermione as herself had said his name. He couldn’t help but look over and he wished he hadn’t. She was holding his collar, the one he’d put on her their last time together. He hadn’t taken it off of her. She’d been so angry after Kingsley confronted her that she stormed out of the house. He hardly cared that she’d still had it. He wouldn’t be able to use it on anyone else. Too many memories, memories that flooded his mind now. He could still see her kneeling on the floor, eyes full of fear and defiance and determination.
“When you put this on me,” she said, holding it out for him to see. “You said you were my master. Was that what you really wanted?”
Something in him snapped then. He didn’t care anymore. He was just… tired. “Yes,” he snarled, turning to tower over her. “I wanted it. Is that what you want to hear? You want to hear how pathetic I am to fall for a girl who only came on to me because of a bloody curse? Or do you want to hear about how much I wanted you for years? I know; you want to hear about what a sick bastard I am to have enjoyed the little sliver I got?”
She looked absolutely shocked but she quickly regained her composure. She grabbed one of his bloody hands and practically dragged him into the bedroom. When they were in the center of the room, she did the one thing he thought he’d never see her do again. She knelt.
“Who is more pathetic?” she asked in a wavering voice, holding the collar up to him. “The curer or the curee?”
“What?” he whispered.
She swallowed and held the collar up higher. “I… I liked it. I was mad at first because I thought you didn’t care what happened to me. Then I was angry because you never showed up to train me. But… but I didn’t realize you thought I hated you. I… you saved me. I can’t hate you. I… I want you. And you don’t have to take the potion because… because I want you to take me instead.”
He frowned in disbelief. “Granger, you don’t have to do this. You don’t owe me anything.”
“I know,” she said softly. “I want this. I want you, the real you, the you that isn’t worried about my reactions to a curse.”
He closed his eyes and licked his lips. He’d wanted to hear those words for so long and now that it was happening, he felt like he was going to fly apart. The surge of emotions flowing through him chased away the darkness, leaving him normal again. Well, devoid of dark magic. He knew if he accepted, he wouldn’t want to let go. He was much too possessive for that.
“I’m fine now,” he said hoarsely.
“But I’m not,” she whispered. “You have a lot of time to think in the cave.”
Draco snorted. “Very true.”
She nodded, smiling a little. “I… it’s not just an attraction because of what you did for me. It’s not. If it was, it would have gone away when I was so angry with you I couldn’t see straight. But it didn’t. I hated you with every fiber of my being… and I still wanted you, which made me hate you even more until… until… Draco, I think I’ve fallen for you.”
“Those are serious words, Granger,” he warned. “I made due with casual relationships in the past but I won’t be able to do that this time.”
“Put the collar on me,” she said softly. “And we’ll try it just as long as we can. I can’t promise you forever, but I’ll give you everything I have until I can’t.”
He reached a shaking hand out to take the collar, his fingers brushing against her delicate hands. He winced when his blood streaked her palms and quickly banished the blood and muttered a healing charm so he wouldn’t do it again. He loved pain but blood was too far.
“Granger-“
“Call me Hermione?”
He smiled, realizing that this was the moment he had wanted, there for the taking. “Hermione. Are you sure?” She nodded. “Then do you accept this collar as a symbol of our starting relationship? One in which we guarantee will not end in marriage.”
She giggled. “I do.”
He reached down and snapped the collar around her neck, quickly spelling it blue to reflect their status. “Potter said you were ecstatic about the no marriage clause.”
“I think I’ve had enough husbands, don’t you?”
“I do, actually. Any contact from your pimp?”
She scowled darkly at his dig. “Hard to find a girl locked in an unplottable cave surrounded by Knights who don’t exist.”
“A very good point.”
“And Harry said that all detectable activity from the Faction has stopped.”
“He’s lost his cash cow,” he said, smirking at her shocked look at his use of a muggle phrase. “And he’s scrambling to regroup. I assure you that he’s wondering if you’ve managed to somehow tell someone about what happened. He’s wondering if I found out about you and murdered you. And he’s wondering how and when he should strike next.”
“It shouldn’t take him that long,” she said softly, her eyes rapidly moving back and forth as she thought. “How long before I was gone the first time?”
Draco frowned. “One month.”
“And he moved,” she said, trying to get him to fill in the blank.
“He moved on his idea with no forethought,” he said, accepting her nod. “Which would mean that logically, he wouldn’t wait six months to strike.”
“List,” she said, massaging her throat.
“Potter still has it,” he said thoughtfully. “We can cross reference deaths in the morning. But Hermione, you should know that we’ve raided the Faction regularly. We always capture people and Creevey still comes to bail them out. But other than that, there has been no move on any of the other key players not on your pimp’s little list.”
“He is not my pimp,” she snapped.
“Fancies himself one, doesn’t he? Anyway, I’ve been more than careful. There have been no attempts on my life. So, I’d say they are still trying to carry out the plan but they also have their resources tapped out to find you. They’ll be shocked when you show up on the scene again.”
“I’m grateful Kingsley put my six month sabbatical request in so quietly,” she said softly. “And I’ll be glad to get back to work. But how do you balance it?”
He shrugged. “You learn over time. Sleep when you can, eat when you can, stay close, and stay alert.”
“About this closeness…”
He smirked and grabbed her hand, pulling her up with a bit of force which made her gasp. “Closeness is key,” he whispered in her ear, relishing her shudder. “It’s closeness that could save your life.”
He wanted to badly to cuff her to the bed and never let her go but he needed to show her how much he cared for her. She liked his roughness but he needed to show her he could be gentle too. He would still be in control, but he could show her softness, tenderness, how real lovers should act. Well, how he pictured them acting. He’d never had more than a fling or two and neither had she. Perhaps they could teach each other a few things.
“You already saved my life,” she whispered, her eyes wide and full of sincerity.
He kissed her then, unable to stop himself. She kissed him back and the duel began. This was what he wanted. He didn’t want her to just accept it because she had no choice. He wanted her to be a willing and eager participant. He wanted a chance to assert his dominance because she was pushing, not because she was lost.
It was incredible. He won, of course, which made his slowly awakening cock stand at attention from the sheer thrill of it. She surrendered, allowing him access to taste her mouth how he pleased. And taste it he did, memorizing the exact taste of her without the taint of dark magic. She was so wonderfully clean and innocent with a sizzle of power that came from being a Knight.
“Fuck,” he hissed, pulling back to suck in a lung full of air. “You’re dangerous.”
“Why?” she asked, her eyes half-lidded with pleasure.
“I could lose myself in you.”
“You’re more dangerous than me,” she whispered. “Because I got lost the very first time.”
He smirked. “Let’s start over then.”
He picked her up bridal style, laughing when she squeaked in shock. She clung to him as he made his way to the bed. He hadn’t realized how sore he was until he started walking that way. He’d overtaxed his body and he would definitely be paying for it. She seemed to since his discomfort because she practically dove on the bed the second they were in reach.
“Eager?” he asked.
She smiled. “You’re a good actor, but not that good. Come on, let me take care of you now.”
He scoffed and climbed on the bed, pushing her down into the pillows and covering her body with his own. “I think you’ve forgotten who is wearing the collar.”
She pouted prettily. “Just because I agreed to be your sub doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be able to take care of you. You obviously need it.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “Are you saying I haven’t been able to survive on my own all these years?”
“No! I just… you need someone to look after you. You know, to rub your shoulders when you’re stiff and listen to you when you’ve had a bad day.”
“What about warming my bed?” he purred. “Do you think I need someone to do that?”
“Definitely,” she said. “But please, please let me take care of you?”
“How?” he asked, wondering where she was going with this.
“Lay down and I’ll show you.”
“Excuse me,” he growled, narrowing his eyes. She was dangerously close to ordering him around and he wasn’t about to let her.
She paled a bit and bit her lip. “Um, please lay down… Sir?”
“Better,” he said gruffly and proceeded to drop his weight on her, making her gasp in shock and then giggle.
“Uh, you weigh a ton!”
He chuckled and rolled to the side. “That’s not nice at all. I’d never tell you that.”
“Because I don’t weigh that much,” she said snootily and then grinned before scrambling away from him. “Lay down on your stomach please.”
“Um, no,” he said hesitantly.
Her face fell. “You don’t trust me.”
He sighed. “I don’t trust a lot of people Hermione, but you have to give me some time. You were sent to kill me after all.”
“No I wasn’t,” she growled before huffing. “I was just the bloody bait.”
“So you see where I’m coming from?”
She nodded, though tears were filling her eyes. “Give me a chance to earn it?”
“You broke into my house, pet. Not a great start.”
She laughed. “Ghost did, not me. Here.” She handed him her wand. “Take it. That way I can’t hex you, not that I could anyway.”
“You could,” he said, taking the wand and putting it out of reach on the nightstand. “The vow keeps you from killing me, not hexing me. Potter figured that one out the first day.”
She shook her head, a big smile on her face. “Leave it to Harry. Please, turn over. I’m just going to rub your back. Honest.”
Draco swallowed down the urge to run and lay down, his whole body tense. He couldn’t help it. Logically, he knew that Hermione couldn’t hurt him badly. The vows a Silent Knight took prevented you from doing major harm or killing your team. It was put in place in case someone couldn’t fight off an imperious or another form of mind control. He was the one who had actually insisted on it after seeing his parents struggle with it for years. It would even protect against bloodstones, which he was sure Hermione was ecstatic about since she’d taken that vow while bouncing up and down with giddiness.
Still, as she spelled his shirt away and straddled his back, he couldn’t help but wonder if she wouldn’t take the opportunity to give him back a little of his own. After all, he’d been a complete arse to her, all of their interactions being dubious consent if not full on rape. She’d even said she didn’t want it but had fallen silent when presented with a choice. She deserved to take her revenge and sadly enough, he’d let her. It didn’t mean he would lie down and take it, but he wouldn’t punish her for it. Fair was fair.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” she said, placing a tentative hand on his shoulder blade. “What you did to me… well, it wasn’t exactly welcome at first but it worked so well. How… how did you know it would?”
“Sex magic,” he said, sighing in pleasure when her other hand joined and began rubbing small circles on his upper back. “Darkness is overcome by pleasure. You’ve seen that first hand. But sex, a connection with another person whether good or bad, forms a certain fizzle of magic. It’s like muggles rubbing two pieces of wood together to make fire. The friction forms its own magic. It’s just as strong as the darkness. So, if you can experience pleasure during sex…”
“It’s like an instant cure,” she said, kneading a little further down his back.
“Well, for the levels I experience,” he corrected. “For you, it took some time.”
“A week,” she sighed. “It seemed like so much longer.”
“Curses, especially dark ones, warp your sense of time.”
She hummed and started working her hands on his shoulders. He groaned in pleasure and gave up trying to keep himself at the ready. Her hands were like sin and she knew what she was doing with them. His muscles felt like butter.
“You certainly know a lot about Dark Magic.”
“I am the expert,” he said sardonically.
She sniffed. “Why isn’t Professor Snape?”
“He’s good. Formidable even. Definitely qualified to teach Defense or even the other side. But he doesn’t have the experience or the same understanding I do.”
“Why not?”
He sighed and motioned for her to get up. If he were any more relaxed, he’d be jelly. He was surprised when she straddled his hips and started massaging his chest. He didn’t even know his chest and arms hurt until she started working on them. Her eyes were so alive, so eager for knowledge that he couldn’t deny her.
“He’s never lived under a dark curse.”
She froze. “What?”
“Potter wasn’t the only one cursed by that madman as a baby.”
Her jaw dropped open so wide his cock twitched against her arse in excitement. She blushed furiously and cleared her throat, bravely divesting him of his trousers but not quite courageous enough to take his pants. She moved and started massaging his legs, trying not to look at the place he knew she wanted to see.
“So… um,” she said, clearing her throat again. “What did he do to you?”
“You never questioned how I knew what an enslavement potion tasted like, felt like, or how to beat it, did you?”
She frowned. “You shut me down before I could ask, though I admit I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly. But now that you mention it, how did you know?”
“I was given the potion as an infant. My parents were placed under the bloodstone curse just beforehand to make them more compliant. They weren’t exactly thrilled to hand their child over to Voldemort, nor did they want me under such a dark influence. But they had no choice after the bloodstone so they stood there while he slipped the potion in my bottle and fed it to me. They couldn’t get rid of it until fourth year when they knew I was strong enough to face it.”
“So all those horrible things you said and did...”
“Mostly the potion,” he said but sighed heavily. “And some of it was my parents. They still had to contend with the bloodstone and were forced to teach me pureblood doctrine. For a while, I wholeheartedly believed I was better than you. And then my parents fed me the cure and allowed my will to break the curse. They said… my father said that muggleborns are the source of true random magic, the purest one can touch. But it was too late to start acting different. Voldemort returned that year, remember?”
She nodded, her face solemn. “The Tri-Wizard Tournament.”
“Anyway, having such a dark potion running through my veins for so long changed the way I reacted to dark spells. Most people have changes in personality, like Severus. The more he studied the Dark Arts, the darker and more twisted he became.”
“Until he actually joined Voldemort,” she said softly.
He nodded. “Dumbledore actually gave him a cleansing potion from time to time after he switched sides. Losing Lily was the catalyst but he would have turned again if not for the potion. Voldemort was good at overloading his subjects with dark magic.”
“And you?”
He smiled sadly. “I was still sensitive to him, drawn to him despite the fact that he disgusted me. It was the same with Potter. It was actually a lot worse until Potter got rid of that damned horcrux inside him. It made me sick when he turned down my offer of friendship our first year.”
“And he still has that pull.”
Draco nodded. “But you’ve really got to stop rubbing my legs because you have one hell of a pull, too.”

AN: I know, I know. This is a horrible place to stop but it was either end it here or have a chapter so massive I couldn't upload it. So, have fun dangling on your cliff all my lovely readers. I'll try to get the other half out soon. As always, thanks to everyone who reviewed. I read those to give my poor aching fingers a rest. Keep them coming and let me know how I'm doing. Until next time... love you guys!
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