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The Devil's Obsession	By : Refictionista Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 25159 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I'm not making any money off this fic because everything in the Wizarding world of Harry Potter belongs to Rowling, or maybe Warner Bros. I'm honestly not sure who exactly.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Chapter Two

After the Death of Harry Potter
Sunday, May 1, 1998
The battle was going poorly. Understatement. Of. The year.
Things were getting desperate. If she couldn’t find a way to destroy the Horcruxes, they would never win.
Hermione’s plaited hair was falling out of its braid. Needing something to keep the wisps of bushy strands out of her eyes, she pulled a scarf out of her beaded bag. Having her hair tied back helped her think..
She had to get into the Chamber of Secrets. The basilisk fangs were the only things she knew of, other than the Sword of Gryffindor, that could destroy Hufflepuff’s Cup.
If only Harry was here, she thought. The only way to open the door was to speak Parseltongue, and he was the only one, that she knew of, who could speak it. By making a couple of strangled hissing noises, she tried copying the sounds that Harry made when he opened the locket. Hermione knew that she had no talent for mimicry, as her attempts apparently weren’t good enough.
Knowing she had to find Harry, she quickly decided to run back upstairs to the chamber’s entrance in the second-floor girls' lavatory.

§

A chilly breeze blew through the forest.
Which is why Harry nearly jumped when the hand in his pocket brushed against the metal’s heat.
His coin with the Protean Charm felt warm in his pocket.
Nagini is dead, its inscription read.
“What… how?”
Harry blinked, and then blinked again. He could scarcely believe what he was reading. His head snapped up, and he looked around the forest.
Neville had done it. So, if Hermione had destroyed the cup, which she would have because she was brilliant, then that meant…
The last Horcrux was destroyed.
Hogwarts castle seemed so far away. How long had he been gone? Had Neville stopped carrying the bodies from the battle to go and kill the snake?
“He must have,” Harry whispered to himself.
Still wearing his invisibility cloak, he continued to follow the Death Eater scouts who, ironically, were searching for him.
Harry overheard a few of the scouts grumbling about how frustrated they were by not finding him, and so Harry followed them after they stopped complaining and decided to go back to their encampment.
Finally, thought Harry.

§

"S-s-someone is here, mas-s-ster," hissed a reptilian voice. "I can s-s-smell him."
"Who is it, Nagini? Someone wearing the Cloak of Invisibility, perhaps? Harry Potter had one, you know."
"Yes-s-s, mas-s-ster."
What? How?! The snake was supposed to be dead!
It was too late to go back, but he wasn’t going to behave like a coward. He was Harry Potter, son of James and Lily Potter. He would fight back proudly, as Dumbledore had taught him, as everyone needed of him.
Harry ripped off the cloak and stepped into the center of the clearing.
Voldemort was already looking at Harry. He smiled, the expression frightening on a man without lips.
"Ah, the boy who lived. Come out, my dear boy, don't be shy."
Several of the Death Eaters snickered, but no one made a move to curse him.
It was as if... no...
Somehow, they had expected him.
Voldemort walked forward, his bare grey feet gliding across the leaves of the forest floor without rustling them.
Harry came forward to meet him. Nothing mattered but the two of them, until Harry heard a voice yelling.
“HARRY! IT'S A TRAP! RUN, HARRY, RUN!”
It was Ron, who had left Hermione and Harry behind when the burden of the Horcrux had been too much for him. Ron, who never came back.
Harry had never been more glad or more terrified to see his best mate.
“Silencio,” snarled one the Death Eaters. Ron continued struggling, though much more quietly this time.
Bellatrix flicked something in the air at him that landed at his feet. Harry, wand still raised, risked looking down.
It was a DA coin, identical to the one in his pocket.
How did they get it?
Harry looked over at Ron, who had stopped struggling. There was a pleading look in Ron’s eyes as the red-headed boy blinked back tears. It was as if Ron was begging Harry for his forgiveness.
The Death Eaters began dragging Ron away. Harry wanted to chase after them, but he knew he had to face the Dark Lord.
“This is it, Riddle. You and me. Neither can live while the other survives.”
“You actually think you, a mere boy, will be the victor between the two of us? I almost pity you. Dumbledore filled your head with fables.”
“I know I will do what it takes to protect my friends. You won’t kill anyone else.”
“Except you,” snickered Bellatrix. Voldemort laughed with her.
“We’ll see about that!” yelled Harry.
They both raised their wands at each other at the same time.

§

“You,” said Voldemort, pointing his wand at Narcissa Malfoy. Each breath through his saurian nostrils seemed to be a struggle. “Tell me whether or not he is-”
“Please, my Lord,” Bellatrix interrupted. “Allow me the honor.”
Bellatrix was kneeling at the Dark Lord’s feet, her wide eyes gleaming with hope and worship. He scowled at her interruption, but then pressed his lips into a thin line and nodded quickly.
“Very well, if you insist.”
Harry didn’t know what to do. He ached all over. If he started running, he wouldn’t make it. If he-
Hands, rough and calloused with cracked nails, scratched Harry’s face and then one poked him in the eye. He couldn’t help it, he flinched.
“HE LIVES!” screamed Bellatrix, scrambling back in shock.
Harry jumped up. He would have to fight Voldemort now, but he couldn’t. He was too weak, and especially with Nagini still alive, Harry would never defeat him. His only hope was the element of surprise, but now that was gone. He would have to kill the snake quickly, and then-
For the briefest instant, Bellatrix lunged back towards him, but now she was backing away with a twisted smile and a dark gleam in her wild eyes.
Harry looked down to see the handle of her dagger sticking out of his chest. His first thought was, Why doesn’t that hurt?
He fell to his knees and saw blood seeping out through his shirt. He remembered Ginny and that time she kissed him, the happiest moment in his life.
Then, for the second time that day, he saw Voldemort raise his wand followed by a bright flash of green light, and then everything went dark again.

§

Bellatrix yanked Harry into a sitting position this time, his glasses sliding down his nose and off his face. She wiped her dagger off on her skirts and held the somewhat clean blade under his nostrils, but no breath ever came to fog the metal.
“Dispose of the body, permanently,” said the Dark Lord.
“Surely you want to show his blood traitor supporters his dead corpse, my Lord.”
“No, Bella,” said Voldemort. “I’m a wiser man now. He escaped death twice so far. Let’s make sure it doesn’t happen a third time.” He pointed his wand at her. “Do you dare to question my authority?” he hissed.
Pink spots appeared on her cheeks.
“Never, my Lord.”
She aimed her wand at the boy’s body.
“Incendio.” Flames rose at once, blackening his body, and within seconds, all that remained were his bones.
Harry Potter was gone.
Forever.

§

Monday, May 2, 1998
Draco’s spell hit Hermione once again. This time, though, her arm was numb from the shoulder down. She dropped her wand and fell backwards.
Come on, Hermione, she thought, shake it off. You need to find Harry. Get your wand. Deal with Malfoy.
She had time. Draco was just standing there, smirking at her. Her wand was between them, but not far. She rolled over to get up, but someone grabbed her from behind by the head.
Merlin, it’s Theodore Nott.
The weedy-looking boy tried to pull her up, but Hermione realized his fingers were merely digging into her scarf. She untied the knot under her chin and ran towards her wand.
It wasn’t there.
“Looking for this, Granger?” scoffed Malfoy, twirling her wand. “Did you honestly think I would just stand idly by after I disarmed you?”
He put the wand into his arm holster, along with his own. “I guess now is a good time as any to tell you,” he said stoically. “Harry Potter is dead.”
“No,” breathed Hermione, icy cold horror spreading through her. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not,” said Draco, unfazed. “I know he was your friend. You may not believe me or trust me yet, but I truly am sorry for your loss.”
She stood still for a moment, fearful that Draco spoke the truth. Harry can’t be... dead. Hermione stared blankly around her, not knowing what to do.
Finally, Draco grabbed her wrist and dragged her over to the shed behind Hagrid's pumpkin patch, throwing her inside. She stumbled and fell painfully on her hands and knees, the shock of hitting the ground breaking her out of her reverie. Hermione quickly scrambled back up in the hopes of facing Draco.
As she began to approach him with fierce determination, Draco smirked and slammed the door in her face. She heard the sound of a lock click.
Hermione hurried to the window beside the door. She saw Draco staring at her with a twisted smile on his face, dangling a large iron key from his index finger.
“Are we putting prisoners in there?”
A couple of Death Eaters had arrived, dragging a struggling redheaded boy. Draco ignored them, twirling the key, but Nott nodded. Both boys smiled when they saw who the Death Eaters held captive.
“Ron!” screamed Hermione.
The blue eyes of the boy she hadn’t seen in months flashed when he saw her, full of so many emotions. Joy. Love. Regret. Hope. Relief.
“Hermione!”
Ron jerked his knee forcefully towards the groin one of the Death Eaters holding his arm. The wizard let go, squealing like a pig. Before the other one had time to react, Ron headbutted him and struck him in the neck. The second wizard let go as well, gasping for breath.
Ron launched himself at Draco, his first punch barely missing the latter’s chin. But Ron’s second punch made contact as Draco realized too late that the first punch was only a feint. The wind knocked out of him, Draco doubled over and fell to the ground.
Having five older brothers paid off. Ronald Weasley knew how to fight.
As the two boys rolled around on the ground, the other three just watching with cowardly looks on their faces, Hermione noticed that Ron somehow had gotten a hold of the shed’s key.
He threw it into a patch of grass near the door. No one else seemed to notice.
“DRACO!”
Even from this distance, Hermione could see the insane, furious look on Bellatrix Lestrange’s face as she ran across the castle grounds.
The Death Eaters and Theo Nott scattered.
Ron was sitting on top of Draco, pummeling him, but stopped at the sound of Bellatrix’s scream. He made eye contact with Hermione, then flicked his eyes quickly at the key.
Hermione nodded subtly.
Bellatrix arrived and forced Ron off of Draco at wandpoint.
“You filthy blood traitor. How DARE you lay a hand on my nephew!”
Ron closed his eyes.
“Avada Kedavra!”

§

Hermione wasn’t sure when she stopped screaming, but by the time she did, it had been so long that her raw throat burned.
Finally tearing her gaze away from Ron’s discarded body, she let go of the edges of the window and sank down against the wall, sobbing.
Ron was dead. The boy she had loved for years was gone.
Hermione’s head snapped up as she remembered.
He died trying to get that key to her. She couldn’t let his death be in vain.
Taking deep, calming breaths, Hermione looked around the shed and assessed her options. There weren’t many. The shed looked like it was filled with quite a bit of useless junk. Hagrid must have used it for some kind of storage locker.
She saw an old radio and a spool of copper wire, an idea forming.
“It can’t be that easy,” she whispered.
There, on the workbench covered in tools and unfinished projects, was a spool of twine rope. She grabbed the wire and set that next to the spool. She flipped on the switch of the radio and adjusted the tuner, the sound of static weak enough for her to hear BBC Radio Scotland.
It worked. The battery worked. She opened up the rear compartment of the radio, finding a 9V battery inside.
She looked around again and saw the iron handle of a wooden bucket.
Hermione smiled. She was getting out of here.
She jumped up and down on the bucket until it broke. She took the handle and wrapped the copper wire around it. Carefully attaching the small battery, she tied it all together with the rope.
She held the handle out towards a nail on the workbench. The tiny sliver of metal scooted over and adhered itself to the bucket’s handle.
Hermione Granger, muggleborn witch extraordinaire, had successfully made an electromagnet. She silently thanked every muggle science book she had ever read.
Making sure everything was secure, she threw the magnet end out of the window. It landed two feet past the iron key.
Hermione pulled her end of the rope until it reached the key. She heard a clink.
The key was attached to the magnet.
Smiling, Hermione pulled the key closer to the shed, but when she got about halfway to the door… the key stopped moving.
She tried again. The key didn’t move.
Hermione pulled everything back inside the shed. It appeared to be intact. She took the battery out and put it back in the radio.
Nothing. Not a sound. Not even static.
The battery died, she realized. Hermione wanted to cry.
Instead, she screamed wordlessly in frustration and threw the useless battery across the room as hard as she could, where it hit a storage shelf.
A box of hippogriff feathers fell over, which flew out of the box and scattered in all directions.
As the cloud of feathers cleared, she saw the most glorious thing on the shelf.
A modern muggle camping lantern. A large camping lantern… and it was heavy. She nearly dropped the silly thing when she snatched it off the shelf.
There was an on/off switch near the handle.
Please, Merlin, please let there be a working battery. Please.
And then there was light.
It worked.
She ripped open the battery compartment, revealing the beautiful 12V battery that was inside.
She could make a larger, stronger electromagnet. She couldn’t throw the 12V battery, so she wrapped the wires down the length of the rope and threw just the magnet out the window again.
She was able to reach the key on her second attempt. Hermione successfully dragged it to the window and then, ever so carefully, pulled it up slowly until she was finally able to grab it.
“Muggle science to the rescue!” She jumped for joy.
The iron key fit perfectly into the lock on the inside of the wooden door. She checked the window again.
The coast was clear; it was now or never.
Quietly, she unlocked the door and opened it as slowly as possible. It creaked, but not as loudly as she had feared.
She made a run for it... and ran straight into Draco Malfoy.
He smiled at her. There wasn’t a mark or single bruise on his face from his scuffle with Ron.
“I knew you were smart enough to escape. The others didn’t, but I knew better. You’re the brightest witch I know, and there is no doubt in my mind that you are smarter than all the other Muggles as well.”
Hermione stood there, frozen. He had been waiting for her. He probably had seen her attempts with the magnet. She never stood a chance.
His lip curled in disgust. “Come along, my clever little Mudblood,” he said, gripping her arm tightly. “Let’s put you with the other rebels.”

§

Later at the makeshift prison, several of the female students were separated from the rest and driven from the encampment. Death Eaters surrounded them, aiming their wands at all of the students’ feet and forcing them down a path towards the Forbidden Forest.
“Where are we going?” demanded Hermione, but she was ignored.
They entered a clearing just beyond the boundary of the woods.
“Why are we here?”
“Shut up, filthy Mudblood,” sneered a fat Death Eater. He shoved her unceremoniously onto the forest floor with his stubby hands. The rocks and brambles cut into her side, but she knew the scratches were the least of her worries.
Beyond the crowd of Death Eaters, Lord Voldemort sat on a grossly ornate, high-backed throne chair. Bellatrix Lestrange sat at his feet, a worshiping look in her eyes.
“Virginitas Revelio,” said Voldemort without preamble, waving his wand at them with a complicated movement.
A warm yellow glow surrounded Hermione. She looked around and saw the same aura around Luna Lovegood, Hannah Abbott, and several of the girls in the younger years.
“Separate the true filth from the others,” said Voldemort. “We have no use for those doxies. Have the lesser fighters use them for entertainment if they must, but I want them gone, disposed of, before the day is done.”
The aura’d girls were taken to the side and then towards the back of the revel. Hermione turned to see Fenrir Greyback pounce on top of Lavender Brown, clawing at her face and neck until her screams ended suddenly.
Then he howled and began to eat her.

§

Luna was still crying, the other girls in the huddled group sniffling. Hermione hugged her friend.
“None of this is real,” the little blonde repeated over and over. “None of this is real...”
“Shh,” soothed Hermione, stroking her hair. “We’re going to be okay.”
Luna stopped her mantra long enough to look up at Hermione, raising one pale eyebrow.
“You’re not as clever as people think, if you believe any of us are going to be okay, Hermione Granger. I would focus on the hope that this is all just a terrible nightmare.”
Hermione ignored that.
“Do you know where we are?” asked Hermione, trying to change the subject.
“Yes, the dungeons at Malfoy Manor. I was a... guest here earlier this year.”
Before Hermione had a chance to question Luna further, there was the sound of a heavy bolt being lifted. The door at the top of the stairs swung open.
A burly man with blank eyes and meaty clubs for hands descended.
“You, Potter’s Mudblood. You’re first.”
Hermione was dragged out of Luna’s arms, the other girls cowering. Luna tried to stop him, but she was no match for the ox of a man. He shoved Luna back down the stairs and locked the door behind them.
They arrived in a dark drawing room, the only light coming from the black flames in the fireplace. It was full of Voldemort’s inner circle, the drunken victors obviously well into their cups.
“My Lord,” said the burly man, “I brought Potter’s Mudblood first, as you instructed.”
The boisterous hall suddenly became silent.
“Ah, yes. Hermione Granger, how wonderful for you to join us. Please, have a seat.” His red serpentine eyes bore into hers with cruel intentions.
She was dragged forward and shoved into a chair that someone provided.
The room exploded. Nearly all of the Death Eaters began laying claim to her. For what purpose, she didn’t know.
She didn’t want to know.
Hermione heard a mad, cackling laugh directly behind her, taunting her situation.
She recognized that voice.
Bellatrix Lestrange, Ron’s murderer.
When Bellatrix walked around the chair to face Hermione and continue with her cruel jabs, Hermione spat in her face. As Bellatrix shrieked, Hermione took advantage of the surprise to stand and slap her across the face.
The burly man grabbed Hermione and slammed her back down in the chair.
Bellatrix took her knife and held the tip to Hermione’s throat. “Give her to me, my Lord! I cannot entertain the thought of this creature meeting any fate other than torture and death at my hands!”
Voldemort looked amused. Hermione knew her end had come.
“STOP!” The voice came from behind one of the Death Eater masks. "This Mudblood is mine."
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The Devil's Obsession

Chapter TwoAfter the Death of Harry Potter

Chapter Two

After the Death of Harry Potter