Temptations | By : Nikkilicious Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 16330 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
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. |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any part of the franchise. This is a work of fanfiction, written solely for the enjoyment of myself and other fans. No profit is being made off of this work.
AN: Hey guys. So I wanted to tell you that my updates are going to get slower again. Probably once a week or so. Maybe even more sporadic. I auditioned for this play and I got a main part so I’ll be spending most of my nights at rehearsals. BUT NO WORRIES! This fic will be finished. I have it all outlined and everything.
Thanks to my beta: me_4_ever!
“Men often make up in wrath what they want in reason”
-- William R. Alger
Harry, Ron, and Pansy didn’t say much else about Hermione and Draco after their conversation in the Room of Requirements. The three of them alone knew their theory since everyone had long been gone and Theo had left as soon as he’d been interrupted, obviously satisfied with what he’d said.
Harry thought back to his words many times, trying to figure them out. He supposed the first part was obvious. Whatever he thought about the Slytherins, whether it was them being untrustworthy or dangerous or not, they thought the same thing about the Gryffindors. He realized that was how they felt, but as a Gryffindor, and plainly biased, he couldn’t understand why he was deemed untrustworthy.
It didn’t matter. He had so much to think about he didn’t even really care what the Slytherin’s intentions were anymore. He just wanted to do something; to feel like he was actively involved and accomplishing things. Running the D.A. helped with that but not much. He still felt useless to The Order and the cause.
The air was cold and sharp as Harry flew through the night, holding onto his broom like it was the last thing he had in the world. He tunneled through the wind, the sound almost deafening to him. But he liked it. He couldn’t hear anything except the dull noise and that made him feel like he was alone. He needed to be alone. In times like these, he held that feeling tightly to him, trying to think about and understand everything that was happening around him.
He tried not to imagine her but no matter what he was doing, Hermione wasn’t far from his mind. He felt like he’d failed. It was a ridiculous notion but still, it hit him deeply. She was gone and he was going to have to accept it.
He never got to say goodbye though, and it was nagging at him relentlessly.
As he flew in circles around the Quidditch pitch he thought back to the last conversation he had with her. It disappointed him when his memory was fuzzy and he could hardly recall it. It was the night of her detention. They’d been talking about some homework assignment or other. He and Ron had been incredibly lazy and Hermione was lecturing them about it. Again.
He missed those lectures.
He missed everything. It saddened him when he thought about how he had treated her; like she was a walking book, not a friend. They had asked to copy her homework, begged even, and she had given in, just like always. Harry had never realized how much they were using her. It just never occurred to him. Hermione had always been the smart one, and he and Ron? They were the slackers. But they made up for it in other areas.
Or so he thought. Maybe he had been wrong.
That was becoming a nasty habit of his.
After she’d given them her paper to copy, she’d stood and said she was heading out for her detention. Harry hadn’t even glanced up. He mumbled something at her and continued to focus on copying her work.
He hadn’t even fucking looked at her! He was an awful friend and he knew it.
That night, she had left. And she never came back.
Harry was never one to have many regrets. When he was younger he thought he had lots, but as he grew, he realized that everything was for a reason. But when he thought about it now, if he could have changed anything, he would have treated Hermione better. She had helped him through so much, saved him countless times. She was his best friend.
Yep, he definitely regretted that.
Breaking from his thoughts, Harry sat up a little straighter on his broom, thinking he heard a noise. It was quiet, undoubtedly far off. Glancing around he saw a figure walking through the pitch. The red hair was a dead giveaway.
Ron.
Changing his direction, Harry swooped down, circled a bit, and landed smoothly near where Ron was standing.
“Mate.” Harry nodded in response and climbed off his broom. Propping it up and leaning against it he stared at his friend, expectantly. Ron was quiet for a moment but then cleared his throat.
“Dodgy Ministry. Their getting worse and worse, thinking they can come in and just take over. Talked to Seamus on the way out here and he was saying that now they want to find a way to charm us so that they can keep track of everyone. See where we are at all the time.”
“Yeah?” Harry asked quietly, staring off into the distance.
“Yeah. Thinking about giving us bracelets or something. I don’t know. Bugger it all.”
Harry only nodded again. He was just as sick of the Ministry as Ron was but, at the moment, he just didn’t have the energy nor the inclination to care.
They were silent for a while, both gazing around, soaking in the sound of the wind whispering past them.
“I got some bad news. I guess that’s why I really came out here.”
Harry looked at him then, shifting on his feet. Ron rubbed the back of his neck and sighed in a defeated way.
“Me and Pansy-”
“Pansy and I.” Harry corrected automatically. They both stopped and shared a look. They were reminded of her. That, correcting them, was something Hermione always did. Ron shook his head and then continued.
“We went back to the library and got into the restricted section. It was damn hard too with all the Aurors and Ministry workers guarding everything, but luckily Tonks was there and she told them that she gave us permission. They believed her and no one asked any questions. We had to be quick so we hurried back and found what we were looking for.” He stopped there and Harry studied his face. It seemed just… empty. Like he’d just given up.
“The book said that when someone creates a dimension, there is no way of finding it unless they reveal it to you. The creators are the only ones who know where the entrance is located. They control if you discover it or not.”
Harry thought about what that meant. Even if Hermione and Malfoy had gotten stuck in this ‘other dimension’ type place, and even if it was because someone created it to trap them there, it didn’t matter because no one would be able to find it. It was intended for those two and those two alone so they stumbled upon it, and the creator knew where it was, but no one else ever would.
If all of this was true, then she really was lost forever.
A pain so sharp cut through his gut at that thought and he had to look away from Ron to hide the tears that started to well up in his eyes.
“Harry, what do we do?” He sounded so helpless that it only made the pain worse. Finally, after a few deep breaths, he looked back at Ron, unable to meet his eyes… and shrugged.
“I don’t know.” He said, honestly. Ron must have been expecting that because he only gave a nod.
It seemed the time had come for them to finally give up. To just accept what happened. Hermione Granger was now a missing person and they had to just move on. They’d mourn for her, remember her. And they’d just move on.
Without another word, the two slowly headed back to the castle, neither really looking forward to it.
“You fucking-” Draco cut himself off as he dove out of the way of another spell. He’d been dodging pretty well so far but he knew his luck was running out. They were in a wide open space with no where to run and no where to hide.
Hermione was relentless as she attacked him, curse after curse, jinx after jinx. She was blinded by the anger she felt. It burned like hot acid underneath her skin, simmering in her veins.
“I should have killed you when I had the chance!” She screamed at him, furiously flicking her wand around to throw out a few more spells.
Draco was running, not able to do much else. His legs moved as swiftly as they could while still keeping his tread on the slick ice. Colors flashed all around him but he didn’t pay attention. His wand was gripped tightly in his hand, but at the moment, it was useless. His first instinct was to get away from the crazy bitch, but he soon realized it wasn’t going to do any good. No matter how fast his legs carried him, no matter how far he went… the shore never got closer. It was almost like it moved away from him.
He was stuck on this bloody slab of ice with fucking Granger trying to kill him. He’d had enough.
Draco suddenly came to a halt, his feet sliding a bit on the frozen lake. When he regained his balance, he turned to face his attacker.
Hermione had paused in her assault and stopped as well, curious as to what he was doing. She could see the flames dancing in his eyes and, if they had been real, she would have sworn they would have melted the entire lake in an instant.
“Enough of this game.” He said coldly, fury emanating from his entire being.
Raising his wand, he cast something before Hermione could even blink. It wasn’t until after she moved out of the way, barely escaping the spell, that she registered what it actually was.
Sectumsempra.
The same spell Harry had cast on him all that time ago.
Panicking, Hermione scrambled up from where she’d skidded and fell on the ice. She was fine, no gashes or cuts.
While the spell hadn’t hit her, she was sure it had hit something. A loud crack sounded, filling the thick silence around them. It was as loud as thunder and it rang over and over in their ears. Draco stayed still, as did Hermione, and they watched as the thick ice started to break all around.
Around her.
She held her wand tightly and raised it up, about to cast something, anything, to stop what was happening, but she was jolted by a chunk of ice crashing into where she stood. It was a chain reaction from there. Hermione lost balance and tumbled over, dropping her wand in the process. She watched as it rolled right off the ice and into the pitch black water beneath her. Her part of the lake was completely destroyed and she struggled to balance on her own little plank of ice. She had to get on her knees to avoid falling off. As Hermione moved to do that she realized just how wobbly her little raft was. She looked around and realized, she was trapped. There was no where to go. All of the ice was broken up and floating around.
Her eyes moved upward then and met with Draco’s. His gaze was steady and calm and she couldn‘t help but study his eyes. They were silver and cold, not unlike what she was sitting on.
Draco smiled at her. He looked completely thrilled and she immediately understood why. He was fine. His half of the lake was fully intact, solid and holding strong. Plus, he had his wand.
She was dead for sure.
Slowly, he sauntered forward, that twisted smile still gracing his features. He looked positively gleeful. It was frightening. She wanted to back up but there was no where to go, so instead she stayed crouched low, and silently pleaded that she stay afloat.
Lifting his wand, Draco shot a spell at her and it clipped the side of the ice, causing it to rock back and forth. Hermione screeched and instinctively dug her nails into the thick ice in attempt to hold on.
It wasn’t working very well.
He did it again, casting another spell and causing her to be jolted around. She did all she could to keep her balance. It was then that she realized he was just toying with her, enjoying her suffering.
She yelled at him to stop, yelled at him to help her, but he only laughed and threw out more spells. Hermione was scared, that was certain. But the anger was slowly creeping back in. If only she had her wand.
Her mind went blank after that when she was knocked fully off her block and went plunging into the water.
Draco had obviously had enough of her whining. He moved closer, his arms folded across his chest, and watched her as she flailed about.
Hermione couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. All she could focus on was the feel of the water and how cold it was. The chilly air bit at her face as she flapped her arms and legs wildly, trying to keep herself above the surface. It was useless though. The freezing blackness surrounded her, pulled on her, and no matter how hard she fought, she couldn’t get away from it. Shapes danced in front of her vision but she couldn’t make them out. Her lungs were constricting and her body was growing weak.
It was the end and she knew it.
Slowly, Draco moved forward again, coming right near the edge of the ice. He kneeled down and smiled sinisterly as he watched her drown.
“Oh Granger, Granger, Granger. You see what you made me do?” He teased. “I don’t know why you thought you could actually beat me.”
He leaned down even further so that Hermione could barely make out his face.
“I told you that I was better.” He whispered to her.
Hermione wasn’t thrashing around much anymore. She was so tired and cold. The water wrapped around her like a straight jacket, locking up her limbs and closing her in tight. She fought to breathe, sucking in the air and chocking on the water that came with it.
Draco laughed.
He watched her for a few more seconds before his smiled faded. He wasn’t satisfied. She was dying but it wasn‘t quite right. He was still so furious. He wanted to be the one to do it.
Leaning forward he grabbed her by the shoulder of her robes and dragged her out of the water and onto the ice. She didn’t fight him. She wasn’t even really aware she was out of the water until he leaned over her and she looked into his eyes. They were bluer than she’d ever seen them before.
Her skin was numb and she at first didn’t feel his hands wrap around her throat. She was too focused on trying to figure out what was happening. Her body was shaking violently and her breath came out in short puffs, sending white clouds into the air. It wasn’t until he spoke that she realized what he was going to do.
“I want to kill you with my own hands.”
His fingers snaked under her hair and he squeezed his hands tightly, crushing her esophagus. If she thought she couldn’t breathe before, she certainly couldn’t now.
He straddled her waist and all she could do was kick her legs and wiggle around to try and escape. Nothing helped though. He was so much stronger than her. She placed her hands around his and tried to pry them away with as much effort as she possessed. He only gripped harder, literally wringing her neck, taking her life away from her.
Draco was determined. He had to destroy her. Had to. It would make up for his mistakes with Dumbledore. He’d kill her and his father would be so proud of him. It was all he wanted. Just the affection… the recognition from his father. He was worthy. He was good enough.
He deserved to be Lucius Malfoy’s son.
Draco growled and squeezed tighter, putting all his weight down and concentrating his efforts on crushing her windpipe. He could feel it beneath his thumbs. He couldn’t feel the cold or her wet clothes or her struggling, but he could feel her windpipe, its muscles contracting, trying to draw in a breath.
It would be over soon, he knew. He just had to hold out a little longer. Draco wasn’t weak. He was proving it. Everything they ever said to ridicule him was wrong.
Kill the Mudblood. That was what he needed to do.
She stopped moving beneath him and he stared into her eyes as she desperately tried to take in air. Both of them knew it was too late. He watched as her deep brown eyes widened in fear, as she realized that this was the end and she was going to die out here. A few tears escaped and streamed down the sides of her face. The salty liquid fell from her skin and onto the ice and froze almost instantly.
This only seemed to encourage him.
He had to be better. Not just good enough… but better than. Than his father and Voldemort. Than anyone else who dared to challenge him.
And then it hit him. He was better. He wasn’t a murderer. He didn’t kill Dumbledore, didn’t give into the darkness. He’d risen above. It.
They’d lied when they told him that not being able to kill was a weakness. No, it was a strength. He could be merciful. Something they weren’t capable of because they let their emotions get in the way.
His eyes were drawn back to Hermione’s then. She slowly loosened her grip on his hands. It felt like time stopped for him in that moment. She lifted her hand and brought it to his face. Her fingers barely grazed his skin as she brushed a loose strand of hair out of his eyes.
She didn’t know what she was doing. Her body was dying, her mind was long gone. He couldn’t imagine what she was seeing but it definitely wasn’t the evil creature who was killing her.
It was someone who was alight and beautiful.
In that moment, he knew that she thought he was beautiful. And even though it wasn’t real, he allowed himself to think that she believed he could be better.
Good.
He didn’t have to kill her.
His hands loosened and he took a deep breath. It wasn’t Hermione he was mad at. It was his father and Voldemort and all of them. Just all of them!
And himself.
But not her.
Neither of them noticed when everything started spinning.
AN: MWUAHAHAHAH! ^_^ I hope you all liked it. I know it doesn’t quite explain why they got out of pride but that will come, I promise. PLEASE REVIEW AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THOUGHT!
And I decided to be mean and not give you a preview for next time. :D
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