Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

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
- 14
- 15
- 16
“You two really need to start sleeping,” Harry said dryly as Hermione and Draco slowly walked into the meeting room, blinking and rubbing their eyes.
“I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” Draco said curtly, pulling out Hermione’s chair and allowing her to sit before taking the one beside her. “Have we learned anything?”
“The paper will be out in about half an hour,” Kingsley said, passing out early copies. “As you can see, Skeeter has done some of her best work.”
Draco sneered at the offending paper before cautiously pulling it toward him. He looked at it for a minute before feigning excitement. “Look honey! We made the front page.”
Hermione had her eyes squeezed shut, refusing to look down. “How bad is it?”
He sighed and flicked the paper open, studying the moving photographs. The first showed him watching on imperiously as she carefully lowered herself before him. The second showed the collar, the glamour even more convincing on paper. He really needed to congratulate Luna on a job well done for that one. The third was him putting it on her, blood flowing as she sat back up with admiration in her eyes.
“Shit,” he breathed.
“That bad,” she squeaked.
He chuckled. “Hope no one has a fetish. They might want to steal you for their own.”
“Give me that,” she snapped, yanking the paper from his hands. Her nose wrinkled. “They certainly look convincing.”
“Thanks, Luna,” Draco said with a smirk . “The glamour was brilliant.”
“It was quite easy,” Luna said breezily. “I’m pleased that the dabber blimps didn’t affect the camera.”
Hermione gave her a strange look but quickly shrugged it off and started to read the article.
It’s been widely speculated that Hermione Granger, friend of Harry Potter, the Savior of the Wizarding World, has a secret she’s been hiding. Last night, this reporter finally got the scoop of a lifetime. Seems that the Brightest Witch of the Age has been groveling at the feet of her next would-be husband. Could fourteen be her lucky number? She is certainly putting her all into this unconventional relationship.
Hermione threw the paper down. “What utter rubbish.”
“It gets better,” Neville said stoically. “Draco has joined a Pureblood supremacist group called the Cloaked who idolize a certain Dark Lord and are trying to make themselves into his image with one twist.”
“Let me guess,” Draco sighed. “We enslave muggleborns instead of kill them.”
“Right in one,” Harry said softly. “If Hermione’s attacker doesn’t show soon, we’re going to have to squash this story. It’s going to spin out of control way too fast.”
Draco hummed. “I give him until the end of the day.”
“You two need a distraction,” Severus said thoughtfully. “Shall we have a sparring match?”
Draco frowned. “I’m not fighting her.”
“Why not?” Hermione growled. “Because I’m a girl?”
Draco laughed. “No. I’ve fought Luna plenty.”
“Then why not?”
“Because he can’t bring himself to hit his lover,” Harry said with a knowing smile. “Severus and I had a problem with that at first, too.”
“How did you solve it?” Hermione asked.
Severus smirked. “Draco slipped Harry an imperious potion. Since Harry didn’t know what it was, he couldn’t fight the affects. It made us both realize that even as formidable as we were, there were still weaknesses.”
“So I need to slip him an imperious potion?” Hermione asked dryly.
Draco sighed. “It won’t work. Once you’ve overcome an enslavement potion, imperious is child’s play. It won’t work on you either.”
“How do you know?” she muttered.
“Severus?” Draco asked.
Severus nodded and stood, motioning for Hermione to join him. She did so reluctantly. When she was in front of him, he whipped out his wand and cast a quick imperious curse on her. She shuddered as the warm feeling fell over her.
“Now, I want you to kneel before me,” Severus ordered.
She frowned at him. “I don’t want to.”
“Then go kneel at Draco’s feet.”
She hesitated, looking over toward Draco and shook her head. “No. I don’t feel like I have to do it.”
Severus nodded and released her from the spell. “You see, once under the influence of a bloodstone or an enslavement potion, imperious is a warm fuzzy feeling and a mild suggestion.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “It sort of felt like I was a bit happier but there was no pressing need like… like… before.”
“Which is precisely what you’ll feel every time no matter who casts,” Severus continued. “That makes you and Draco very valuable assets to the team. However, it also means that you’ll be sent in on the hard cases where coercion is more likely to happen.” She paled and he scrambled to help her to a seat. “Don’t fret. We all have your back, so to speak. Here, have some tea.”
She took a drink, albeit shakily. Her nose wrinkled. “This tastes terrible!”
“Because it has imperious potion in it,” Harry said. “Stand up.”
She faltered a second before snorting. “Absolutely not.”
“I said… Stand. Up!” Harry said a bit more forcefully.
“I said… NO!” she threw back at him, crossing her arms in defiance.
“Then you can see our dilemma,” Harry said softly. “And your benefit.” He held out a small vial of purple liquid. “Here is the antidote. Go ahead and take it. You’re immune but it still dulls the senses just a bit.”
She took the potion without question, breathing a sigh of relief when it went down. “It does feel a bit clearer now.”
“You must fight each other sometime, though,” Kingsley said. “You are the only two who haven’t had a sparring match.”
“Fine,” Draco growled, having had enough. “But if she gets hurt, I’m stopping.”
“You’re not afraid you’ll get hurt?” Hermione asked sourly.
He grinned. “I’m counting on it. But I don’t care if I get hurt. I care if you do.”
She batted her eyes coquettishly. “Perhaps you should care…”
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“Finite Incantatum!”
Hermione squeaked as the spell hit her and fizzled out. Draco frowned and looked around to see who cast. He wanted to roll his eyes as he spotted Weasley marching over to them. They didn’t have time for this nonsense. They were both sore and tired after an hour long battle in which he’d gotten his arse kicked and they just wanted to get this day over with.
“Come on Hermione,” Ron growled, grabbing her arm. “You don’t have to obey him anymore.”
Hermione unceremoniously tripped Ron and yanked her arm away as she pushed him down. “I don’t know who you think you are Ronald Weasley, but I will not be manhandled.”
“You let him do it!” Weasley yelled, stumbling to his feet and holding out a copy of the Prophet.
She sniffed. “You have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about. Now if you’ll excuse me….”
Draco chuckled as she stormed off. She was favoring her side a little. He had caught her a little hard but there were no broken bones. He, on the other hand, had broken his ankle trying to pivot back to block a particularly hard blow to his chin. That one had rattled his brain and made him surrender the fight. His little lioness certainly lived up to her name. And he only got to tame her in the bedroom. It almost made his head spin he was so giddy at that thought. She was perfect… and all his.
“I don’t know what you did to her, Malfoy,” Ron growled, stalking forward until they were almost nose to nose.
Draco snorted in disgust and pushed Weasley across the hall. “Nothing she didn’t fully enjoy. I don’t have time for your petty jealousy Weasley. Some of us have actual work to attend to.”
“You rotten wanker!” Weasley screamed.
Draco simply shrugged it off and turned to walk away. It was actually quite hard to hide the pain in his ankle. It might have been fixed but it was quite tender. Perhaps fighting hadn’t been the best method of distraction. He could think of a dozen things that would have worked better, all ending up with Hermione in a compromising position filled with his cock. He knocked that thought back and traipsed down the hallway as tall as he could.
“I’ll –“
“Do absolutely nothing,” Harry snapped.
Draco sighed in relief as Potter grabbed the Weasel’s wand and made his way to his office. Potter would keep Weasley from doing anything stupid until Hermione’s attacker showed up. Hopefully, they would be in full view of the Wizarding world when the showdown started. If not, Weasley was an auror. He’d make a fine witness, as would the entirety of the Knights. He was never so glad to have them on standby as right now. He wouldn’t let Hermione’s attacker win. Grief or not, no one could get away with vigilante justice. Would it even stop there? Draco had checked himself. Everyone else on the list was either dead, in Azkaban, or had fled the country and disappeared. He was the only one left. Would her attacker simply fade out after that?
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“We’re going to have to retract this story this afternoon,” Hermione huffed as she made herself at home in Draco’s office.
Draco looked up from his papers and took in the look of disgust on her face. He quickly summoned the other Knights and packed his work away. She was too upset. They needed to regroup.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” she asked, her voice a little edgy.
“Not until the others arrive,” he drawled, putting his quill away and sitting back.
Three minutes later, five cloaked figures entered his office. They took spots along the wall as he locked and warded his office against prying ears. Then Kingsley lowered his hood and added his wards to the room. The Minister’s wards couldn’t be broken by anyone except the Knights. And that is what they needed right now. Absolute secrecy.
“What’s wrong, Hermione?” Harry asked, worry etched on his face.
Hermione took slow deep breaths, trying to gain control over herself. “He’s sent everyone.”
“What?” Draco barked, tensing for a fight.
“Everyone who usually comes to… collect,” she said stiltedly. “They haven’t gotten through my wards. But my secretary is on the verge of quitting from the backlash. Reporters are banging on my door demanding an interview. I’ve gotten hate mail from several muggleborn families appalled at my actions. I even got a few from Voldemort sympathizers stating that groveling won’t help cleanse me.”
Draco frowned and held out his hand. “Give them to me.”
She took a shaky breath and held out a box. “I’ve already removed all the curses. I didn’t touch them in case they were doused in potions. I even put a bubblehead charm on in case there was something I could inhale from them.”
Draco nodded in approval and put the box on his desk, closing his eyes to sense any dark magic. He took a tentative sniff and cringed. The smell of magic was ugly and harsh, definitely poisons and a few dark curses.
“You’re sure these are anonymous letters?” Draco asked.
She nodded. “The others I had to incinerate before my secretary accidentally touched them. I know what they contain.”
Draco frowned at her shudder but held back from comforting her. These letters were more important at the moment. He cast a containment charm and opened the lid, levitating each letter out and skimming it. They were basic threats, insults, and rudimentary hexes. The darkest ones were from the sympathizers, as he suspected. It wasn’t anything he wasn’t expecting but it was taxing on one’s nerves and Hermione was already frazzled.
“Nothing horrible,” Draco assured her. “But I think we should enact the Knight wards around your office now.”
“What?” she asked.
Draco smiled sadly. “When I became a barrister, many people weren’t happy. I was the coward that had tried to murder Dumbledore and let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts. They couldn’t know that I didn’t have a bloody choice. Enslavement potion or not, I couldn’t let that snake-faced bastard kill my parents. So, I made some enemies. Potter did as well. It was a weekly thing, trying to avoid being cursed or hexed. Or in Potter’s case, mauled by adoring fans. So we created a ward system. Ones with legitimate business are let through. Others are kindly turned away, reminding of other things they need to get done instead of what they were heading toward us to do. It’s subtle, undetectable, and most importantly, it works.”
“Then why don’t I already have them?” she growled.
“They take weeks to set,” Kingsley said. “And I have to okay them as Minister, put them under a secret keeper’s jurisdiction, which will be Luna, and then plead with the building to allow it.”
“The Ministry is sentient?” Hermione asked in surprise.
“Not quite as much as Hogwarts,” Kingsley admitted. “However, any changes are challenged unless you know the correct combination of intent and spell work.”
“What if they move offices?” Hermione asked.
Kingsley smiled at her. “We do try to keep that from happening, but the wards are attuned to signatures and move rooms when a permanent move is made. Being a Knight will help with that. The Ministry ward system has become quite fond of us and will allow us certain courtesies others won’t get.”
Hermione nodded. “I want them. I’m sick of this already.”
Harry chuckled. “Just wait until the real story is out.”
“If it ever gets out,” she said sadly. “He hasn’t come yet.”
“Don’t give up hope yet,” Neville said. “Sometimes it takes a little while.”
“Do we have a little while?” Hermione asked. “Draco will be investigated soon.”
Harry frowned. “I’ve been trying very hard to postpone that. Hopefully we can crack this case before they do start investigating.”
“Lead Auror does have its perks,” Severus drawled. “However, we might want to start thinking of a way to retract or denounce the story should her attacker actually hold out.”
“Perhaps we should push a little harder,” Draco said, frowning off into the distance. “How did Weasley take it, Potter?”
Harry huffed. “He’s convinced she’s under a spell and is telling everyone he can about it. Skeeter lapped it up. She’s flapping her jaw to anyone who will talk about it, inadvertently spreading the news without realizing she’s scooping herself.”
“Is that so?” Draco said, smirking. “Perhaps a bit more sensationalism?”
“What did you have in mind?” Kingsley asked.
Draco opened his desk and took out a familiar black leash. “A demonstration.”
Hermione fingered the blue collar around her neck. “They’ll notice it is different.”
“Reasonable doubt,” Draco said, spelling the leash blue. “They’ll believe I didn’t want to be seen harming you in public. But the blue collar is certainly damning, is it not?” She nodded. “And me leashing you and walking you to lunch?”
“The straw that broke the camel’s back,” Harry said. “It’s a brilliant idea. It’ll send everyone mad. But it’s also very dangerous.”
Draco frowned and fingered the leash. “It’s a calculated risk. There is nothing in Wizarding law that prevents a Master/slave relationship. It’s unconventional, frowned upon by many, but not illegal. At most, they might cite inappropriate behavior in public which is basically a stern talking to and a harmless and completely unenforceable citation. But if it catches him…”
“One way trip to Azkaban,” Harry said grimly. “And I vote the Dementor’s kiss.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Draco purred. “I’d like to see him suffer.”
“More than a kiss?” Neville asked wide eyed.
Draco nodded. “He needs to be taken down a peg or six. We could recommend him for labor camp.”
“Labor camp?” Hermione asked.
Draco nodded. “It’s a little known program for criminals. Participants are considered based on their crimes. Most are candidates for the Kiss. They must be useful. Since our little mark has shown to be devious and quite capable and young to boot, he would be a perfect candidate for hard labor. Those chosen to participate are stripped of their magic and made to wear a collar based on the design of a muggle shock collar for dogs. Wrong moves are disciplined with stinging hexes and trying to escape will end with body binds and a trip to the dementors. The prisoners are then sent to various places to free others from unsavory conditions. They feed the poor, care for the sick, and stand by while an elite team of unspeakables eradicate potential threats to the safety of mankind, both muggle and magical.”
“Elite unspeakables?” Hermione asked.
Draco smiled. “They are nearly undetectable, move in silence, and are only seen from the corner of the eye.”
“Us,” she breathed.
He nodded. “We were created to keep the peace, sweetheart. But we also wanted to make the world a better place. We can’t change everything, but we do what we can. The Ministry loves our work and prisoners have shown remarkable improvement. If they maintain good behavior, they are released at the end of their sentences to lead normal, law abiding lives. They won’t have magic, because they can’t truly be trusted with it, but we help them get started. They are closely monitored the rest of their lives but isn’t that better than a lifetime of drooling in Azkaban?”
She nodded, frowning slightly. “How does the Ministry know about this?”
Kingsley grinned. “It’s been the Minister’s pet project since the war ended, Project Phoenix.”
Her eyes got as wide as galleons. “I’ve read about it. Pansy Parkinson was just released not too long ago. She landed a job at Madam Maulkins.”
Draco nodded. “She was found guilty of being sympathetic and sentenced to three years in Azkaban. She was one of the first candidates actually, and one of very few who weren’t up for the Kiss. Her participation was actually voluntary and her magic wasn’t stripped, just bound to the use of simple household spells and the like. We hope she does well.”
Hermione bit her lip. “I’m not sure I want him free.”
“After all of his transgressions?” Harry asked. “He’ll be there for life.”
“I’ll have to see him,” she whispered.
“You’ll get to see him humbled,” Draco corrected. “You can’t run from your fears, love. You must face them head on and come to terms with them.”
She nodded slowly, thinking about what he’d said as she studied her nails.
“I’ll let you strip his magic,” Kingsley said tauntingly.
Her head shot up, fire in her eyes. “Deal.”
Harry chuckled. “That was fast.”
“Tit for tat,” Draco said, holding out her leash. “Care to catch the fly my little spider?”
Hermione stood and walked around, kneeling beside him. “As you wish, Master.”
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“That was a bust,” Hermione muttered as Draco tugged her into the main atrium of the Ministry while cameras flashed from the outside.
Draco simply sighed and continued manhandling her through the crowd. He was so sure that taking her to lunch on the end of a leash would bring the bastard that tricked her out of his cave. After all, they could scarcely breathe for the constant questions from outraged reporters and concerned citizens.
“What do you think you’re doing to her?” Weasley’s voice carried down the hall.
Ah good. A confrontation. Just what they needed. Draco brought Hermione to heal with a harsh jerk to her collar. She sucked in a sharp breath, fighting back a shiver. Despite the cold way he was acting towards her, she was enjoying this. It gave him all sorts of naughty ideas that he didn’t need to be thinking of while Weasley was marching towards them with a face like thunder. Draco ran his hand down Hermione’s back, more for comfort than anything, but it looked like he was ordering her to stay.
“Get your hands off of her you brute,” Weasley growled, stepping within a few inches of them with his wand up his sleeve.
Draco narrowed his eyes and showed Weasley he wasn’t the only one hiding a wand. “Slave, do you want me to take my hands off of you?”
“Only if you want to, Master,” Hermione said quietly.
“And I don’t,” Draco said. “So I won’t.”
“I don’t know what spell you’ve got her under,” Weasley said. “But I won’t let you get away with it.”
Draco scoffed. “She isn’t under a spell. Check her for yourself.”
“No,” Hermione whimpered. “No please.”
Draco frowned and turned her so he could look into her eyes. “It wasn’t negotiable.”
She was trembling all over, much more than she should be. “No please.”
Draco scowled and glanced around the atrium. It couldn’t be Weasley that was making her so nervous. He pulled her into his arms and faced her outward, trying to see what she was seeing. The atrium was too crowded. Shit. He pulled her as close as he possibly could and grabbed her collar. He’d charmed it to contact the Knights before they went to lunch. They would be here in less than a minute. But would it be enough?
“Slave, you will tell me why you object to Weasley’s search for curses. You know he can’t find anything. You aren’t under a curse.”
“No, please,” she whispered.
He pulled her hair out of her face and put his lips to her ear. “Fight the fear, love. Fight it.”
“No, please,” she whispered.
“Who is your Dominant, Hermione? Who have you given the right to be your master?”
“You,” she whispered.
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
“Then tell me what is wrong.”
“No searching,” she breathed. “Searching is death.”
Draco growled and pushed her away from him, spinning her around and rapping her on the head with his wand. It was harsh but the only way to overcome a detection spell. He was sure he’d gotten rid of it their first night. Had he missed something?
“Hey,” Weasley yelled.
“Shut it,” Draco hissed, searching like a madman to find this illusive detection spell without letting on what he was doing. He pulled her close when he didn’t find anything. “It’s not there, pet. It’s gone.”
“No,” she said, her eyes overflowing. “You don’t understand.”
He cursed her attacker again for tying her tongue. It made it extremely difficult to help her. “Try, pet. Try so hard but be careful.”
She nodded, rubbing her throat, running through dozens of sentences that she couldn’t say. “Eyes. Search. Death. See.”
Draco blinked and tried to make sense of the words.
“What the bloody hell?” Weasley asked, his wand aloft. “You’ve knocked her loony.”
Draco spun and stared the red head down. “Weasley, if you don’t shut the fuck up right now, I’ll shut you up and damn the fucking consequences. Now be quiet so I can figure out what she’s trying to tell me.”
He turned back to Hermione, sighing in relief when he saw the Knights enter the room on Harry’s heels. At least they would be shielded should her attacker see. He had a puzzle to figure out. Eyes. Search. Death. See. She had already said searching brought death. But eyes and see were new. She had no problems with him searching her just a second ago. Then again, his search was completely unconventional and did not look like a search at all, rather a reprimand to her insubordination.
“Eyes see search death,” Draco said softly, looking closely as relief washed over her. “So if someone sees the search, it brings death.”
She flew into his arms, sobbing her eyes out and clinging to him.
“He’s here,” Draco whispered, noting her fingers digging into him.
“Is there a problem here?” Harry asked as he walked up.
Draco looked around and noticed that they’d drawn quite the crowd. He had to be here somewhere but he knew from experience that he would be just as unassuming as the rest of them. Well, save Rita Skeeter, who was busy trying to fight through the crowed with that indamnable quill scribbling away.
“No, Potter,” Draco said loudly. “Weasley needs to mind his own business.”
Harry leaned in close and lowered his voice. “He’s here?”
Draco nodded curtly, eyes darting around. “Weasley wanted to search her for curses and she freaked out a bit. It took a minute but I was able to work it out from the few words she could get out. If he sees the search, Weasley dies. So we should avoid that.”
“That fucking tongue tying curse,” Harry growled. “Isn’t there any way around it?”
“There is one,” Draco answered. “But it’s dark. And I’ll need his blood and his eyes on mine.”
“Is it something that anyone would recognize if you performed it in public?” Harry asked.
Draco shook his head. “It’s obscure, something my mum taught me. It’s not really dangerous, just dark. Sort of a tickle, really.”
Harry took a deep breath and started searching the atrium. “Do it then. Whatever it takes. If I have to obliviate the entire fucking wizarding world to get her out from under that spell, I will.”
“You’re defending him then?” Weasley asked.
Harry spun and eyed his best mate since childhood. “What Malfoy and Hermione do is their own business, Ron. If they’re happy, then I’m okay with it.”
“She’s his bloody slave,” Weasley hissed, throwing a copy of the Prophet to Harry.
Harry sniffed and tossed it on the ground. “So you believe everything Skeeter says now?”
“You can’t fake pictures,” Weasley said softly. “And there are three of them. She’s wearing a bloody collar like some… some…”
“Submissive?” Harry asked sadly. “There is nothing wrong with being a submissive Ron. It’s a lifestyle choice that Hermione has every right to make.”
“With her record-“
“Her record,” Harry growled, eyes alight with anger. “You don’t have a clue what she’s been through.”
“Because she won’t bloody tell me,” Ron snapped.
“Because she can’t,” Harry hissed, lowering his voice even further. “She can’t tell anyone. And all you’re doing is getting in the fucking way.”
“Harry-“ Ron whispered.
“No,” Hermione wheezed. “No, no, no, no, no. Shhh. Quiet. So quiet.”
Draco watched as her two bet friends froze in place, watching her meltdown. He was working out the best way to snap her out of it. Her attacker was close. And they needed his undivided attention. Perhaps Weasley could be of some use. He was already angry and confused. It wouldn’t be too hard to push him. His emotions seemed contagious sometimes. Perhaps her attacker would catch it.
“You will be quiet,” Draco ordered loudly in his most authoritative voice.
Hermione stilled immediately, ducking her head. “Yes, Sir.”
“Master,” Draco growled. “I am your Master, am I not?”
“Yes, Master. Sorry Master,” she whimpered. “Please forgive me. I forgot my place.”
Draco sniffed. “Your place. Where is your place, slave?”
“At your feet, Master. I’m not to stand above you.”
“Then where do you think you need to be?”
Hermione hit the floor with a sharp thud. He wanted to rub her knees for her but she had successfully snapped herself out of her hysteria. He was so proud of her. Actually, he wanted nothing more than to drop to his knees in front of her and worship her. It was hard to face your ultimate fear. He hadn’t been able to stand up to the Dark Lord. She was doing it now.
“Good slave,” Draco purred.
“You sick bastard,” Ron cried.
“She wouldn’t kneel if she didn’t want to,” Harry said softly.
“She’s under a spell,” Ron growled.
“No,” Draco said loudly. “She’s finally found a real man.”
His eyes latched on to a figure in a black cloak that wasn’t acting like the others. Instead of standing still and craning their neck so as not to look like they cared, they were slowly circling. They didn’t push, didn’t ask to be let through so they could see. If he had to guess, they were waiting for something, planning on making a move at the proper time. Bingo.
“Real man,” Weasley hissed. “You’re nothing but a filthy Death Eater, escaped by the skin of your teeth.”
Draco couldn’t have planned his better if he wanted to. Weasley was playing right into his hands. But this was far from over. Before he could rebut Weasley’s claim, the cloaked figure stepped out from the crowd.
“I’m afraid I have to agree.”

AN: Dun dun DUN! Muahahahahahahahahaha. Good news my lovelies. After tomorrow, I have five WHOLE days off to write. Hopefully, I can finish both this one and Fooling Fate up. I'm pretty stoked and my Muse hasn't hidden under a rock so we should be good. As always, thank you to everyone who reviewed. It makes me feel like less of a failure when someone likes my work. Keep them coming and let me know how I'm doing. Until next time... love you guys!!!
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