Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Blood on the Ground	By : pepperdoc Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 15292 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter Universe, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 15
- 16
- 17
WARNING: Character death coming up and I kept with my descriptive tone. I’m not making the death romantic at all, don’t expect to leave the scene without being a bit upset… also, if it seems like there’s a big gap in time, like during the Battle, it’s canon and I don’t want to infringe (any more) on what Rowling wrote.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Hermione had dropped her wand. The battle moved around her as she searched for it.

A mad cackle cut through the roar of battle and Hermione froze, terrified. She spotted her wand before her and snatched it. She jumped into a defensive crouch, looking around wildly for her imminent attacker.

A plume of black smoke rushed toward her and she prepared her spell in her mind. The figure solidified into a head of white blonde hair and the lunatic grin of Lucius Malfoy. He screamed a spell as he flew past her and a jet of green light flew out of his wand, Hermione sprang out of the way in time to avoid being killed.

He flew past her again, screaming another curse and she jumped again, landing badly on her healing arm. She screamed in pain. She struggled to get her legs below her as Lucius landed next to her with his wand in one hand and its sheath in the other. He laughed outright at her struggle. One stride and he stood over her. He whacked her shoulders with the sheath and she fell to the ground again.

“Grovel at my feet Mudblood!” He whacked her again, hitting her ribs on the side. The force of the hit rolled her onto her uninjured side and she groaned in pain. She gripped her wand in her hand and struggled to breathe. “Bow to your master!” He raised the cane again. She closed her eyes in preparation for the hit that did not come.

“Father.” His silky voice covered her in the sweetest happiness.

“Draco.” His father responded, cane still above his head. “You look well,” Lucius finished sarcastically.

Hermione looked around for Draco and was terrified at his bruised face and desperate exhaustion showing. He glanced at her briefly and then kept his eyes on his father.

Bellatrix’s laugh floated over the battle around them again. “How is your mother?” She cackled at Neville. Explosions followed her taunt, unheeded by the trio.

Harry had left for the forest already, and Hermione stayed behind to continue the battle she had prepared for over the past two years.

The battle moved away from them, the cries and shouts becoming quieter as the father and son regarded each other for a moment. “I challenge you to a duel.” Draco said finally.

“Draco, do you really wish to die?” His father responded.

Draco raised his wand. Abeille had rescued it from the vault at Malfoy Manor just before arriving and Hermione could feel him unlocking his power fully for the first time in her presence.

Hermione scuttled out from between them, clutching her probably broken ribs and debated stopping the fight. It was too late. Before she had the time to stand and tell Draco that they needed to run and run fast, the elder Malfoy was bowing to his son in acquiescence.

A bubble of white light surrounded the pair and Draco nodded his head to his father. Hermione gasped and looked around to see if she was still safe. She needed to watch this. She needed to know that Draco wouldn’t die before she got to tell him she… loved him.

The first spell came from Lucius, before Draco had gotten into position. He deflected it with a quick flick of his wand. It hit the barrier and dissipated. He responded with another and a similar thing happened to his father. Hermione realized that his lips were moving and she could not hear what was happening. She held her ribs and passed out, hunched over to the side.

Inside the bubble, Draco told his father serenely, “I’m going to marry that witch you just hit,” And sent an expelliarmus at his father’s equally astonished and furious face.

“Over by cold body, Crucio!” The light headed at Draco and he felt the fury suddenly take over.

“That is my intention!” The light was stopped by a bubble of protection around Draco. He screamed and threw nonverbal hexes at his father, four in rapid succession.

His father had dropped to a knee and was panting from deflecting two and being hit with the other two, one a stinging hex and the other an explosion to his midsection. There was blood coming from under his robes. Draco stood straight and looked down his nose at his father with his head raised proudly. He purposefully mirrored the stance his father had taken so many times when looking at an inferior. “Your ways are not mine.”

Draco raised his wand, intending to murder his father.

Lucius looked up and took in the posture of his son. He recognized himself in the posturing, but not in the power, the dedication, and the bravery. His pain became second to the shame he had never experienced before in his life. He felt for the first time that he had failed his house. He whispered, “Do it.”

Draco faltered. The words were there on the tip of his tongue, ready to come bursting forth with conviction. Those two words had stopped the two about to come from his own lips. Just a whisper in false silence, and his heart felt like it would break. His mind flashed to the only happy memory of his father in a litany of horrible ones. His father, proudly beaming at him as he climbed onto his first broom and it responding immediately to his touch.

Lucius took a painful breath and screamed at his son, “DO IT!” He wanted to tell the boy that this would make him proud, his only request which would never be followed by a higher expectation. He would finally be at peace. The words would not come. His throat seemed to be full of a chocking liquid and he began coughing harshly. He opened his eyes and watched blood spewing from his own lips in the harsh light around them. The pain was receding though, and he coughed again, nearly enough to vomit.

“Father?” Draco asked uncertainly. He began to lower his wand, not sure what he should do.

Through his coughs, Lucius was able to choke out in a thick voice, “Go away! You,” He coughed again, “Murde” A retch, “-er.” He choked out and fell over, his breathing stilled. He stopped breathing. His bloody hand fell from his stomach and revealed a horrific wound to his chest and stomach.

The light around them fell and Draco was glad for it, the image he had been presented with would haunt him for the rest of his life. His father’s last words would plague his dreams forevermore. He fell to his knees before his unconscious beloved and sobbed into his hands, knowing he was cursed for the rest of his life. A few minutes passed and he got control of his emotions once more.

“Draco?” Her soft call pushed the image from his mind and he felt he might be able to forget it as long as she kept talking. As long as he could see her face. As long as she filled him with this joy. And yet he was afraid. Love is a terrifying thing, especially when it has so rarely been offered in his formative years.

He pushed his hands through her hair and lent down to hug her gently as she lay still. “I’ve missed you terribly,” He whispered fiercely into her hair.

She pushed him back and his heart gave a harsh lurch. He looked down at her and there was that light in her eyes. “Draco, I love you,” She whispered. Even over the growing roar of the battle raging behind them, he heard it clearly. He pressed his lips to her fiercely and knew he could never live without her.

Draco helped her to stand and fixed her ribs quickly. “Sorry, no bruise potions on me, can you run?” He asked quickly.

She smiled sweetly up to him, “Your father hits like a girl. You have surely bruised me worse, my love.” He grinned down at her. “Let’s run. Harry has barely left for to the Forbidden Forest.” They started to jog and Hermione told him, “Harry’s gotten rid of the last Horcrux, I think.”

They were flying down the hill, headed in the direction of Hagrid’s hut when a wolf stepped in front of them. “Fuck you! Get out of our way!” Draco screamed.

The she-wolf bared her teeth and another wolf stepped next to her. There was a rustling in the bushes, and out came a beautiful blonde woman. “Draco,” The woman crooned. She reached her hands out to take Draco’s stunned face and admire him for a moment.

“Mother…” Draco answered softly.

“Do you know my new friends? My new pack of friends, you might say.” She tittered as though she had learned the skill from her sister’s madness.

Another wolf came from behind them, growling its’ greeting.

“Ah, the new father of your old boyfriend, dear.” She said, mockingly introducing Hermione to the gigantic wolf. “His name is Nicola Catalonia.” The wolf posed dramatically, puffing out his chest and straightening his posture. “He rescued me from my imprisonment and helped bring me back from my madness. I did the same for your ex-boyfriend, you know.”

“Well, since you’ve been recently widowed, you may want him to protect you better, dear.” Hermione said, flicking her wand behind her back and putting protections on herself and Draco. Draco grabbed her arm roughly and held her close to him. Under his breath he made a quiet ‘shh’ noise.

Narcissa looked uncertain, “Widowed?” She questioned, her inflections polished as though she were inquiring if anyone would like tea. “Lucius is in prison, and has not gotten the kiss.”

“Where is your wedding band, then, Mother?” Draco asked pointedly. She looked down at her hand and seemed surprised to find it only adorned with her engagement ring.

“No,” She breathed. “Impossible.”

“Yes.” Draco answered, on the verge of madness. “And patricide be the cause.”

Narcissa looked at her son with such fury, Hermione almost feared her for a moment. “You’ve murdered your father?!” The once beautiful woman screamed.

Draco glued her feet to the floor with a quick whisk of his wand. With a sudden comprehension of why everyone was so keen to find her, he asked, “Of course I did. Where is it, mother?”

“With me, always.” She answered, her face still contorted in rage.

He held out his hand, and Hermione watched the wolves circling wearily. “Give it to me. I have been tasked with bringing it to him, along with her,” He flicked his chin to Hermione.

Narcissa’s eyes lit up, the storm of rage contorting her features disappeared in an instant, “You have? What an honor, Draco. To carry a Horcrux for the Dark Lord is truly an honor,” She looked happy. She pulled out an ornate hair pin from her complex hairdo. She handed it to Draco without hesitation.

“Call off your pack, I need to get through.” He ordered.

The wolves moved from the head of the path, growling and watching Draco carefully.

Hermione had had enough of this insanity. She waved her wand and all three of the wolves were incased in bubbles of water. Narcissa was flailing in an unladylike fashion within her own bubble of liquid. She touched the wolves’ bubbles first and set the muffling charm on the cages to prevent their calls for rescue.

She leisurely walked to Narcissa’s floating bubble of water and smiled at her, cruelly. Draco touched her arm and when she looked at him, she saw the sadness on his features, so she touched the bubble. Narcissa screamed at them, “I should have killed you years ago! You and your filthy-” She was cut off by Hermione placing the silencing charm on the cage.

“I feel terrible. But she does deserve it. And so did he…” Draco touched the cage with his hand softly, watching his mother screaming at him through the bars. Hermione watched him work through the emotions going through his mind. She stood to the side and watched him kneel next to his mother’s cage and watching her for a moment. “She’s been Imperioed,” Draco sighed as he stood, shaking his head minutely. They were about to step into the woods when there was a crash and explosion noise behind them. They turned and watched as the Astronomy tower collapsed.

Their eyes met and Hermione asked, “Harry or Order?”

Draco looked to the forest then back to the changed skyline. That slight change in the castle’s structure seemed to have broken his heart in an unexpected way. “Order.” He answered finally. He turned and began running back to the castle with Hermione following closely behind.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

The battle raged on. Hermione and Draco tried to stay together as much as they could. They found Neville holding the Sword of Gryffindor. He had just slain Nagini and was rushing off to join the battle against Greyback on a lower level. They asked him to destroy the hairpin with the sword. Finally, it was Harry Vs. Voldemort. No back up plans for either of them.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

It had been exactly a year since the original excitement of Voldemort’s demise. The Wizarding world was still drunk on its freedom from Voldemort’s defeat.

On the first anniversary of the Battle, Hogwarts had hosted a gala the likes of which may never be seen again. It had been a year full of parties and galas.

Hermione and Draco had become the poster children for the world resulting in the victory of the Light. Their faces were plastered all over tabloids and they had been harassed endlessly ever since the end of the war. Someone had slipped to the Quibbler that they were together and every Wizarding news outlet had been rolling out daily headlines since.

Draco had found his mother after the battle and figured out she had merely been Imperioed, and was not insane. Her insanity made her less likely to be a target in Voldemort’s deranged reckoning. She lived in a ward of St. Mungo’s specializing in recovery of people who had been Imperioed within an inch of their sanity. She only had to be there during the work week after seven months of round-the-clock care, and could now spend the weekends with Draco. She was slowly beginning to grow on Hermione.

Hermione’s parents were living in Australia, with the memories of their daughter. The decision had been theirs, the climate agreed with them more than England. Hermione was jealous sometimes and wished to be away from the spotlight of the headlines. She and Draco had discussed it often, but both of their hearts lay in the English clime. So they stayed.

Hermione walked with Harry and recollected the battle which had lasted the whole night through one year ago. They were tiredly walking in the predawn light and examining the castle’s repairs as they spoke. Hermione was carrying her spiked heels, which looked ever so good on, but hurt like hell around 3 AM. Her emerald silk dress left her shoulders bare in the warm air, but she still carried her wrap for when the breeze turned chilly. Harry was wearing a suit, but was carrying the jacket.

Ginny, Harry’s girlfriend, had fallen asleep after a few too many drinks too early in the meal. Harry had put her upstairs in his office. After the battle, Harry had of course been selected for the –no longer cursed- title of Professor of Dark Arts.

Ron had been thrown into Azkaban after being captured alone in a pub. His pack had deserted him and he was drowning himself in alcohol when the barman suddenly realized where he knew the boy from. The front page of the Daily Prophet had been taken up by Ronald’s murderous face, covered in bruises and partly covered by a beard. It had reminded Harry of Sirius and Hermione and he had had a long night of tearful liquor cabinet raiding in memory of Harry’s dead Godfather. They never spoke about Ron other than that one time.

Hermione was in college with Draco, both having taken all of their exams during the summer following the Battle of Hogwarts. They didn’t even study and got all O’s on the exams. He studying business in the Magical-Muggle Relations department and she studying to become a professor of Potions.

Harry asked her again, “So, why don’t you just accept the job. You know you don’t need to get a degree. Being my sidekick,” She elbowed him in the ribs, “Ok, the brains behind my brawn? How’s that?”

She giggled, “I like that one.”

“Being the brains to my brawn gives you the ability to do anything you want without the hassle.”

“Yes, but Harry, Potion making is an exact science, not one you can just jump in to, not at all like Defense Against Dark Arts.”

“Ah, the cheek then?” He pulled her under his arm and pretended to give her an affectionate noogie.

From inside the castle, they suddenly heard angry shouting. With a startled look at each other they ran back inside and saw Auror’s taking Draco through the Entrance of the Great Hall. Draco was not fighting, but there was a crowd of people who were angrily shouting.

“What are you doing? Let him go!” Harry shouted angrily.

The silence that followed was shocking. Half of the people present still thought that Harry and Malfoy were and always would be bitter enemies. Everyone else who was informed of their friendship thought Harry was talking to Draco, and ordering him to release the Auror.

The apparently senior Auror stood at attention and saluted Harry before speaking in practiced, clipped military speech, “Sir. This man has been accused of being a Death Eater, sympathizing with the Death Eater cause, of endangering the lives of muggles and wizards alike, and of casting an illegal hex on the date of May the Second, 1998. He has been captured on the date of May the Third, 1999. He is to be interred in Azkaban Prison until his trial date of Tuesday, June the First, 1999. If you have anything to say on the matter, please do so at the appropriate time. Sir.” The Auror dropped the stance, gave Harry a curt nod, and helped his partner carry Draco off.

Hermione stood still, barely breathing. She looked at Harry without moving her head. Harry was as shocked as she was.

McGonagall approached the pair with her perfectly coifed hair showing under her hat. “Should we seek counsel?” She asked them quietly.

“Yes.” Hermione answered.

The following month was spent discussing Draco’s situation with a huge firm of Solicitors who had never worked with Lucius. That had been a big part in making the decision for their representation. A week of meetings with different firms, and they had decided on Kings Solicitors, LLC. Mr. King was very sympathetic to Draco’s case and had also worked with the Zabini’s, Parkinson’s and Greengrass’s when they had been in similar trouble over the course of the last year.

“The whole story has never been divulged, you see. Not to the general public. We never felt it was necessary. His relationship with Miss Granger, here, has assured the general population that the Malfoy name is not representative of pureblooded ideology any longer,” Narcissa told Mr. King shortly after meeting him.

“Ah, but you see, the general population is easy to sway. Just look at these Muggles in America believing the world will end because of electronics,” He pronounced the word carefully and enunciated each syllable, and smiled at himself for saying it correctly. “But in the case of your son,” His face sobered, “I think it will be best for Miss Granger and Mr. Potter to take the stand as witnesses. They have lived with him more frequently than you have since…” Narcissa gave an indignant sniffle and her lower lip quivered slightly. There were tears in her eyes, as Mr. King continued, “My apologies, Ms. Malfoy, I mean no disrespect. It’s simply fact that you have been absent from your son’s life due to many different reasons which no one could blame you for.” Narcissa dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief.

Hermione adjusted her blazer uncomfortably. She decided it must be time to offer this woman more than just cold acceptance. She reached out and grasped the woman’s hand gently in her own. Narcissa looked up at her, startled and Hermione gave her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Malfoy. I’ll rip down the walls of Azkaban myself if he’s not free after I speak.”

Narcissa smiled and squeezed Hermione’s hand. “I believe you, dear girl.”

“As do I.” Mr. King said gravely, “And as your counsel, I will advise you that that action would be highly illegal and not one which should be joked about.”

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

The days were spent going over facts about the war and reliving some parts of it. Narcissa was put back into St. Mungo’s full time until Draco was freed or imprisoned. If it were the latter, Hermione thought she might take over Draco’s role for him until she was better.

She missed him terribly. As she walked around their empty apartment alone every night, she couldn’t help but weep to be away from him. She had a few other friends, but they were all relationship friends. She couldn’t very well write to them and ask to go get bleary eyed without Draco. She’d be a third wheel. No one ever wants to be a third wheel.

Harry tried to make time for her, but she told him several times that he should be spending time with Ginny.

Lying in bed, she could not stop thinking about him. Drinking her morning coffee, she thought about him. Meetings with her Solicitor were spent talking about him. She cooked food at night and thought about him. And then she would curl up in bed and wish he was there to wrap his arm around her in his sleep. To snore and lull her to sleep.

That was the problem. She couldn’t sleep without him. Even on nights where she could successfully chase him from her mind, she still could only toss and turn. Each night she only got a few blissful hours of broken sleep.

She just wanted to hear his voice, that would make it better. His laughter when she made a stupid joke. She missed cooking for him over the campfire while he watched her intently.

She had spent so long with him constantly by her side, now he wasn’t there.

She would berate herself and order herself to grow up. It is possible to be away from someone and still be with them. It’s not like this is the first time in history a couple has had to be apart for any length of time. He’s not being tortured. The Dementors aren’t even in Azkaban anymore.

She tried meditating. She tried drinking herself to sleep. She tried masturbating to memories of the time they had shared. She tried taking over the counter sleeping pills. She tried Dreamless Sleeping Draughts. Nothing would make her be able to sleep.

She started spending more and more time on the internet, relying on messages from other Subs from thousands of miles away who could understand her pain. The smallest message of encouragement would make her smile. She didn’t even care if she would never meet any of these people. They helped her through her crippling depression. The loneliness of being separated from her Dom made her feel empty in the strangest way.

She was thinking about this for the thousandth time since his arrest two days before the trial was opened to the public. The next day, Draco would take the stand. The next day would be Harry and she could be there for his testimony. Draco wouldn’t be. The archaic system was designed so the accused did not hear what was said about them.

It wasn’t like she needed him to hit her to be whole. It wasn’t like she needed to be ordered around all of the time. It wasn’t even that she missed the sex. Although she did miss all of it. The thing was… she needed his strength. In and out of the bedroom. He was the only person in the entire universe, it seemed, who was stronger than her. She could lean on him when she needed it. He would be there to give her a glass of water when the worst of the world bogged her down. He would use her body’s reaction to pain to combat her stress. Those were the things she missed.

It wasn’t like she missed that fringe of white-blonde hair falling ever so gracefully over his brow when he was reading. Or the intensity on his face when he stared at the wall, deep in thought. Or his smell. Or his warmth radiating off him as they relaxed on the couch. Certainly it wasn’t how he would affectionately call her love and grip her hips when she cooked for him. It definitely was not how he would turn her on with a look as he entered the bedroom.

She came to a conclusion. It was definitely the Dom/sub stuff. Science…

Oh hell, who are you kidding, Hermione. You love him more than you’ve ever loved any one or thing. You are having to live without him for the first time since he showed his real face and you can’t do it, can you? What will you do when he moves on? What will you do when he decides that a little bushy haired bookworm isn’t enough for him?

She collapsed into tears at the thought. If he ever left her, she had no idea what she would do. She sobbed at the imagined implications of his leaving.

Abeille popped into the room to bring her tea. “Miss Granger?” Her squeaky voice asked.

Hermione covered her face, “Oh, Abeille, I’ve had the worst thoughts over the past little while.”

The little elf took her hand and looked into Hermione’s half exposed face. “It will ok, Miss Granger. Master will be back soon.” A small squeeze of her hand and the elf popped out of sight.

The small amount of comfort by the little elf warmed her. She drank her tea and tried to think of happier times while ignoring the pang in her heart at the memories. She invested herself in a trashy romance novel Ginny had given her as a birthday present the year before. The first sex scene was passing at best and the romantic pillow talk made Hermione want to vomit. She threw it across the room in disgust. Finally it was time for bed, and she lay in the dark looking at the ceiling and trying to imagine his snores as time ticked ever slower onward. She turned and looked through the curtained windows lining the wall and tried to pretend he was just visiting the loo and would be right back. Finally, she allowed the tears to come and woke to the morning rays shining through the curtains.

Harry’s testimony day. He was their best shot, Mr. King had told them. If the Savior of the Wizarding world gave an impassioned speech, it would sway the jurors more so than anything else. They had decided to allow Harry to go first and Hermione would go the next day. Between the two of them, they could easily demonstrate that the charges against him were ludicrous.

Sitting high above where Harry was speaking, Hermione listened raptly as he began to speak. His words were of the highest praise for the blonde boy who had once been his enemy.

He was ordered to step down and they went to lunch. “Did you write out a speech, Harry?” She asked while they waited for their food.

“No. I just spoke the truth.”

“I have a speech prepared,” She answered with a blush. “You know how I hate to speak to people I don’t know.”

He thought for a moment, unabashedly checking out the waitresses bum. Hermione smacked his arm and he had the decency to look ashamed. “Maybe you shouldn’t read a speech. I reckon that the truth can come easier if it’s not forced.”

She considered his suggestion. “Well, I’ll decide tomorrow.”

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

The night was sleepless for Hermione. She was so nervous. She had abandoned the bed around 2 AM and gotten online. She went into her normal chat room and typed, ‘Anyone awake?’

A little ding and she looked at the response from her ‘friend’ Dreamweaver, ‘Another sleepless night, J?’

‘His trial is happening. I take the stand tomorrow. How could I sleep?’

‘By being in bed…’ The snarky comment made her smile.

‘Tried that. No go.’

‘Are you the nervous type when it comes to speaking in public?’

She sighed, and hung her head over the keyboard. ‘Sometimes. Tomorrow is one of those times.’

‘Remember the first time with Him?’

‘Of course. That time is burned into my very soul, D.’

‘Were you nervous then?’

She thought back trying to remember. ‘A little. He has always made me nervous though.’

‘Imagine that you’re talking to Him tomorrow.’ She thought about it, staring at the screen. Dreamweaver added, ‘It wouldn’t hurt, at least.’

‘Thanks D. I’ll try sleeping again.’

She logged off and crawled into bed. She fell into a fitful sleep for a little while before she had to get up and get dressed for her date with a jury.

A/N: Whew. Finally finished with that. Gonna do a little more in the timeline and then I’m thinking some reunion sex? Who’s with me? I think you devoted readers deserve one more sex scene. Gosh what a huge jump in time this chapter, huh? Well, it made it easier than a bunch of lemony fluff that would have made me get cavities. Draco is loosely based on my husband, and his ‘out of the bedroom’ persona is very lovey-dovey. One more chapter for sure, guys, I’m a bit sad….

A rating would be nice, and so would a review! Thanks so much for reading!

I decided to start a discussion thread on this story…. Mostly because of this chapter. I know I took a lot of loose jumps which might confuse some people.

I guess if anyone wants a reply to their review… Or... I dunno how this all works. Grace and AtlanteanDiva can find the responses to their reviews there, I guess? http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/50425-blood-on-the-ground-dmhg-discussion-time/?p=331327

Margerie- I’m lookin at you specifically for some questions! I think all of your previous ones have been answered in this chapter, but if I missed any, or you have new ones- you let me know!
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Blood on the Ground