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Need	By : diami25 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 30263 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies and I'm not making any profits from this writing.

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Need by WickedDiSaster

Chapter 20: The Dark Side by WickedDiSaster

Life in The Dark Lord’s Lair went unbearably slow; the day of their arrival, Draco had gone through two days of torture at the hands of Voldemort.

Regardless of how Draco had made sure Hermione knew this fact long before their departure, and even though the prospect of it haunted her from the start, she never mentioned it in fear he started on how she should stay with the twins and let him go. For Hermione, the choice between the prospect of watching him tortured or accepting his death by means of torture, wasn’t a real choice.

Bringing back his weapon safe and sound hadn’t been enough to absolve him of his trespasses, and despite both him and Hermione expected it to be this way, when the time came, Draco was more than relieved the ordeal was kept from Hermione’s eyes. Whatever the Gryffindor claimed, she wasn’t ready to witness anyone’s torture yet, least of all his own.

Apparently the Dark Lord had expected as much because he ordered him to lie and tell her that an attack from her side caused his injuries. Voldemort wanted her adjustment to go as smoothly as possible; her awareness of how he tortured her only link to his side didn’t fit with his plans.

Draco prayed he didn’t change his current perspective.

He told Voldemort that the spurt of magic responsible for her miscarriage had been Potter’s fault; that his proximity and her increasing aversion of him led to a heated argument that killed her babies leaving her in a comma, under the care of Draco, who had nurtured her back to health. He informed him that this was the last straw that founded the profound hatred she now felt for Potter, but while she’d gladly participate in the massacre of the boy-who-lived, she wasn’t ready to witness any other kind of genocide yet.

Voldemort ordered Lucius in a public meeting to invite the distressed Miss Granger to Malfoy Manor and make her feel at home until she recovered from her loss.

So far, Hermione faked her gratitude to the glamorous side of the Death Eater Meetings she now frequented, while Draco remained through the entire gatherings and endured the harsh tortures, punishments, and schemes that followed.

*

When Draco returned from his first encounter with the Dark Lord, Hermione took great care in healing his injuries. This alone, made Narcissa’s reticent acceptance of her, turn into real approval of her presence in the manor. Draco’s mother did not know the full extent of Hermione’s relationship with her son, only that the Dark Lord commanded her presence upon their home; and while she did not know if his son reciprocated her feelings or if he was ordered to fake them, she knew Hermione truly and deeply cared for him. The current Dark Lord’s protégé would keep her son out of harm’s way.

Hermione refused to act frivolous around him inside the manor; unless they were holding a party or had a guest over, she would drop her act the second they crossed the threshold of the manor. Despite Draco brought it up during their arguments, in the deepest corner of his heart he was grateful for her attitude; he doubted he’d be able to keep his sanity had it been otherwise. For the biggest part, this was common practice among pureblood families, and his parents highly approved of her behaviour.

Her introduction to the dark side, which was responsibility of Draco, consisted of assisting to frequent and exuberant galas organized by supporters of the dark side, Death Eaters and Non Death Eaters alike. So far, most of the contrived part of the story laid on Draco’s shoulders, who went on several and frequent missions, besides assisting to every Death Eater meeting.

He endured the nasty parties in which they captured and tortured muggles, mudbloods and blood traitors; he witnessed the punishments for missions gone wrong; underwent the perversely sick meetings where plans and strategies were made; all to then, recount it to the Order.

So far, Hermione just had to bear the obnoxious, narrow-minded and sometimes vicious opinions from the Purebloded aristocracy. She swallowed her pride and lied through her teeth with a bright smile about how she agreed with those that found Harry Potter to be a rock in their shoes and an obstacle in the path for progress.

The only positive side she found on this new life was that their relationship was no longer a secret. However frivolous they considered her association with Draco, it thrilled Hermione to no end each time she felt his hand on her back guiding her through the crowds, introducing her as his fiancé. It never ceased to amaze her how such small actions send shivers through her spine. She took great joy in how none of the pureblood-hypocrites was able to utter a word against it.

The supporters of the cause that noticed the obvious way in which the Dark Lord’s most respected followers pampered her, looked upon her with an interest that bordered on greed but she paid them no mind.

Soon, the weight of Draco’s assignments, his frequent meetings with the Dark Lord, and his own tasks as a spy, wore him thin. He frequently arrived to the Manor with blood-stained robes and a sombre looks on his features. He never talked about it, nor did he let her near his wounds; he viciously burned each piece of clothing, and meticulously healed each of his wounds before he went to her. Hermione felt his showers always took too long, and the way he cuddled her, the way he breathed in her hair, the tight grip that never let her turn to hug him made her ache for him.

More often than not, he refused to make love to her and when they did, it was so slow and tender that Hermione could feel his pain tangible in every caress. She tried to desperately kiss away all his sorrows, but with each touch and kiss she gave him, he gave back the same with sad and painful adoration, as if he didn’t deserve the right to touch her, as if he didn’t want her stained by him. She could feel his tears as he came, hidden in the depths of her neck, and he would never talk about it.

During one of the galas they assisted, a young tall death eater leered at Hermione from afar, she hadn’t noticed until Draco whispered it in her ear in what looked like a cold, frivolous, teasing gesture. Surprisingly what came out of his lips was a warning to act cold and nonchalant towards him in front of the Death Eater approaching them. She forced a smirk on her lips.

The lack of jealousy in his voice formed a knot of uneasiness in the pit of her stomach. Even now that their relationship was public, they constricted it.

She felt insulted by the overconfident Death Eater blatantly flirting with her, but still had to give fake smirks of amusement towards both of them. She didn’t wait long before she feigned boredom about the situation and left them both. She pretended not to notice when Draco stopped ‘Roland’ from following her and forced herself not to look concerned when she saw them exchange threatening murmurs.

A few days later Draco came back with a vicious cut across the chest that he didn’t heal nor hid and Hermione couldn’t help to think of Roland when she saw him.

After the incident, it became ridiculously obvious that more Death Eaters had taken a page from Roland’s book, and developed an interest in the Dark Lord’s weapon. Draco made a point of seducing her in public, driving her crazy with need but avoided his tender touches that usually made her feel like goo.

*

A particularly gloomy night she found him in his library staring at the window with a deep look of regret, she placed her hands in his arms and pressed herself to his back hugging him as best as she could. He took hold of her hands and turned to face her, kissing one of her palms tenderly and placing his hand on her now flattened stomach. He lowered himself until he was brushing her nose with his and whispered with great tenderness, “I love you.”

Hermione stared at him with a gnawing feeling growing in her chest. The door to the library creaked open and Lucius Malfoy entered the room. Draco turned her around, keeping a firm hold of her with his arms wrapped protectively over her waist. He looked at his father with an expression of defiance and bitter resignation, Hermione didn’t know what to make of it. Lucius wasn’t looking any happier either.

“Your mother sent me to check on you, she wants to make sure you’re alright, she left some salves in your room, make sure you apply them.”

She felt Draco make a tight nod in acknowledgement before Lucius left the room, and gulped, trying to turn towards him; but not before he pulled her out of the library, towards their room in a deafening silence.

He sat her on the bed and looking at her anxious eyes, he slowly rolled up his sleeve.

Tears filled her eyes as she realised he had finally gotten the mark. Words lost their use as she sniffed her sobs back and hugged him tight. She kissed him with all the love she felt for him trying to overcome the sadness that filled the room. She made him lay in bed and Vanishing his clothes, started to carefully clean the wound and apply the salves resting next to the bed. She finished kissing the inside of his palm and wrist, the way he had previously kissed her, making sure she didn’t hurt him as she reached his shoulder and then his chest. She lingered there and rested her head close to his heart. In the deep silence of the night, he whispered above her head.

“Is it still worth it? he gulped, “to have their father become a Death Eater?”

“Always,” she softly replied tracing a finger in circles around his torso and then resting her palm there. “Just your love for them makes it all worth it, Draco.”

“I hope you’re right, Gryffindor,” he whispered in the mane of curls on top of her head, “you better be.”

*

Despite Draco’s obvious displays of possessiveness, a Death Eater decided to try a more direct approach, during a party at Malfoy Manor no less.

They were nearing the end of the party when Draco was asked to escort one of the guests to their home. The old lady claimed to be sick and Lucius made sure she reached her residence safely. The trip by Floo was not meant to take long, and in fact it didn’t, but it was enough for one of the guests to unexpectedly creep up the balcony Hermione occupied.

She looked out to the landscape under the shining moon, when she felt a soft touch running from the limits of her shoulder blades to her low back, where the low cut of her current dress rested. A soft smile shaped her lips as she turned around.

“Draco, not here, your parents-,”

The smile died on her lips, replaced with a cold glare directed to the man in front of her.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Feisty, are you?” he answered with a soft chuckle.

“I think you’ve mistaken me, I’m not one of the common whores you’re probably used to. Get out of my sight now.”

“What could have Draco done to earn such loyalty from you?”

“Don’t think yourself capable of understanding what he’s helped me go through. He saved my life, if you must know. Now leave.”

“Oh, but there’s so much more to Draco than that; I don’t think you’re privy to all his dirty secrets.”

“Don’t pretend to know anything about me. Nothing you could sputter could change my mind.”

“If that’s so, you wouldn’t mind me showing you some memories, right? You can’t possibly believe you’re the only one he’s been fucking.”

“Liar,” she sneered.

“There’s only one way to see, don’t you think? There’s so much more to Draco I would like to show you.”

“I told you to get out.”

“Scared?”

“Get out!”

“Do it and I’ll leave you alone, isn’t that what you want?”

Hermione emitted an exasperated sound and didn’t bother to use her wand before she casted Legillimens.

She didn’t know how much she would come to regret it later.
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