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His Relinquishment	By : lexiatel Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 70407 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to Jk Rowling, I do not make any profit in writing this story what so ever. I am just having some fun.

Chapter List
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Bernice sat across from Jordan watching the leader of Muggleborns Unite pace back and forth who was clueless of what to do with her.
"Who permitted you to abort the baby?" Jordan asked in a cold tone, clearly upset.
Bernice wanted to readjust her placement in the chair, uncomfortable with Jordan's piercing brown eyes, but she forced herself to remain still.
"I did it on my own."
Jordan rubbed her forehead in obvious conflict with the situation. "This was not part of the plan, Bernice. You told me you could handle this—"
"I was promised Malfoy, and that stupid Scoreboard messed everything up! I got stuck with th-that... sadist! No one said I'd have to deal with that, and no one said that my family would be in danger!"
"The possibility of losing our loved ones in such a profession comes with the territory; it is why we wanted the best people— you knew this could turn bad very quickly, but you also knew how important it is for my plan to succeed, which is why you even signed up to begin with. You— just as many of us— were tired of having to hide under rocks, treated worse than rabid animals, whenever we got captured—"
"And I was..."
"And you were," Jordan repeated. "You know my plan will succeed; it is already snowballing, so why would you attempt to ruin it?"
Bernice pursed her lips when the sting of tears came to her eyes. She stared at the top of the desk, needing to sniff but willed herself not to. The tickle of dripping fluid ran down her nose, and Bernice finally had to do it to keep the liquid in her nose from draining out.
"I am sorry about your sister, Bernice."
"This wouldn't have happened if Travis hadn't suggestion that bloody Scoreboard!" Bernice shrieked out, letting the tears flow. "We agreed! You promised me the Malfoy Pure! I knew what he was capable of— a complete snothead, but he's not like him! Physical abuse I was prepared for, but Jordan, what that man does for fun is sick! He makes the Dark Lord appear as safe as Play-Doh! He brutally raped her, tortured her until she could fight no more, making me watch the entire time, and then—" Bernice choked on a sob. She used the sleeve of her dress to wipe her face like a young child would. "He made me clean up the mess... I couldn't even tell that she was my sister...!"
"You can not blame Travis for such a brilliant idea; the Scoreboard equally matched us to them, and karma will catch up to Zabini—"
"No," Bernice said firmly. "I want him dead, I want him dead now! And I am going to be the one who does it!"
Jordan walked around the desk to Bernice and set a hand to her shoulder, squeezing it. "He is to be kept alive, Bernice. He is part of the plan. And when his usefulness has been fulfilled, you are not going to be the one to deal with him. Am I clear?"
Bernice shook her head. "But I want to be the one—"
Jordan tightened her hold on Bernice. "This is not a request, Bernice. This is an order. You will dismiss this idea of revenge now."
"How can I?! After all that he has done?!"
"You have incredible control and power; you can do it. Although, if you don't wish to waste such energy, I can assist you, but before I help, there's a matter we must address first: the aborted baby of the future. Zabini was right about the Dark Lord, he can't find out; he must continue to believe that everyone is obedient and fearful of him. No loyal subject of his would be stupid enough to kill the baby."
"Can't we just say it was a miscarriage?"
Jordan shook her head. "No, my sister, Pureblood and Muggleborn pregnancies aren't supposed to have any carrying and birthing issues, remember; he has to continue believe to this. Besides, our side needs the Halfbloods too."
"Then what are you proposing?" Bernice asked suspiciously, not liking the thoughtful look on Jordan's face.
"When magic fails us, we always turn to how the Muggles address similar issues."
"I don't understand what you're saying..."
"That's okay, honey, I think I've got the answer. You have no need to concern yourself with this dilemma any longer."
Jordan placed a finger under Bernice's chin, tilting her head up. "Look into my eyes, sweet sister. Think hard about him, and without speaking, tell me what he did to you. Tell me once more..."
Bernice did what her leader requested, feeling a little lightheaded. Her eyes were getting heavy with sleep.
"That's it, Bernice…" Jordan's voice sounded so near, yet so far away. "You're doing great... Just a little bit more..."
*/*
"If you're really Harry, you'll give me a wand, and let me out of this room."
"I can't," the man who claimed he was Harry-disguised-as-Fred told Hermione with a frown (she honestly wasn't quite convinced who this man really was, since the story of Sirius fooling the Dark Lord into thinking he was Harry didn't seem plausible). "They say you have turned—"
"Turned? What's that supposed to mean?"
"That you are serving Voldemort because you are being controlled by a spell."
"I'm not serving him!" Hermione lifted up the sleeve to her dress. "Do you see the Dark Mark there; I don't."
"Okay, the correct term they used was 'consumed'," he said quietly.
Hermione pressed her lips together, unable to deny the accusation. She knew she was consumed by the spell, but fighting it had been so exhausting, and Draco was much more pleasant to her now that she allowed the spell to take over her emotions involving him.
Hermione had been starting to think she could control him— in a roundabout way. Draco had changed so much with just a flip of a switch. She had been able to talk him into letting her use a library, one he had said was theirs.
"The others sadly don't trust you. We're all trying to come up with a way to break the spell, so you won't have to be locked up in here until fall, which is when the cure to it will become available."
"But I don't want it broken! I like being married to Draco." Hermione crossed her arms. "And besides, Harry would trust me. He wouldn't keep me locked up over some ridiculous spell."
"In normal cases, yes, but they say this marriage spell is very powerful, and I agree with them; your thoughts about Malfoy are obviously being influenced by the spell. Ordinary, you wouldn't be saying you like Malfoy, and you definitely wouldn't want to be married to him. Your usual self would not defend a murderer. That's before the..." he paused, sighing. "It's a good thing that I don't know exactly where he is, cause I'm not all too sure I'd have the self-control to not strangle him myself, not after what I heard he's done to you..."
"He did what he had to do," Hermione defended her husband.
"He didn't have to beat you!"
"He was upset that he got stuck with me for his wife!"
"That just shows how much of an arse he is! And don't forget, he killed Dumbledore—"
"But Dumbledore was going to die already—"
"That doesn't excuse Malfoy from murdering him! And being upset doesn't give him the authority to pound someone's face until it resembles mincemeat!"
"Alright, then, Harry, what if… what if you were given an ultimatum: kill someone that you really don't care about or else have your entire family tortured to death; what would you do then?"
"I'd find someway to save everyone."
Hermione tossed her hands up. "But what if that's not possible?! The Dark Lord can track Death Eaters through the Dark Mark, they can't just run and hide—" Her eyes widened and she gasped.
"We're not safe here…!"
"The M.U has assured us that no one can be tracked under this camp. We're well hidden under the concealing charms they have here— one of them is like some enhanced Fidelius Charm, from what I understand."
"When the Dark Lord realizes that Draco and I are gone, he will come looking for us. He'll think I've ran off again, and that Draco's gone off searching for me. The punishment last time was enough to make me not want to ever run away again; I really don't wish to see a repeat of it, or worse!"
"They said you are safe here, Hermione" he insisted. "They said that we're all safe here. Even some of us from the Rebel Force agree: Neville's been talking to a woman named Bernice—"
"Blaise's wife?"
Harry stiffened. "She's not really his wife, and you're not really Malfoy's—"
"I am so!"
"Did you say any vows?"
"We were assigned together!"
"That only makes you… magically bound partners, not a real married couple— do you even love him?"
Hermione traced her finger around the plain ring Draco had placed on her when he had 'claimed' her that day in Holding.
"Well, no," she admitted in a mumble. "But maybe I'll learn to love him. He's pretty intelligent. I can talk about things with him, and he actually understands what I say. Neither of us wanted to be forced together. We just did what we had to do."
"I understand how you can think that, but your opinion about him will change when the spell is removed."
"I won't allow it," she said firmly. "Draco's my husband—"
"Mione, please, don't do this. You're extremely confused right now, the spell is forbidding you to think for your own."
"I am loyal to my husband." Her tone did not change.
"And he's a Death Eater! You don't actually mean those words, I know it!"
She snapped her head to the side with attitude, becoming annoyed with whomever this guy really was. "I will do whatever I have to for Draco, just as he will do whatever he has to for me. I've no other choice in the matter, to which your friends obviously know this already, else they wouldn't be so concerned with having the spell lifted!" Hermione's eyebrows then raised up tauntingly. "Perhaps you're going about this all the wrong way."
"I'm confused…" 'Harry' said with narrow eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"
She shrugged, not caring that he didn't understand. "Figure it out; I'm just the enemy, supporting her Death Eater husband; why listen to me at all?"
After he left, Hermione went back to figuring out a way to escape, searching the place once more for anything that could assist her with the task.
Her eyes set on the shower curtain in the bathroom, and as they raised up toward the top of it, Hermione got an idea that she was sure was going to work.
*/*
"Hey, Bernice, wait up!"
The woman turned around to see Longbottom and a redheaded man hurrying up toward her. Anymore, she didn't have to listen to him, now that her mission as a Mudblood wife was pretty much through, but she was curious to know what he wanted of her.
The only reason there were Pures being allowed at the camp was because they had a common enemy; they all wanted the Dark Lord's reign to cease. Jordan still warned the M.U members not to trust the Pures completely, but Bernice had learned that some weren't so bad. Longbottom being one of them. He and a few Pures belonging to Dumbledore's Army (now renamed to The Rebel Force, since the name was Taboo) had fought against the Dark Lord already, and several of their parents had too (under a different group name called The Order), many of them having been casualties.
He had helped her cope with being a bride to her abusive Pure husband. Longbottom had been playing the Dark Lord and his followers like an instrument, telling them that he feared he would end up like his parents if he had continued to fight against them, finally giving up. Bernice admired his story telling abilities.
In reality, he was forming together an even bigger army, secretly training and preparing them all for battle. An army which had gotten a good amount of people that even Jordan couldn't refuse to band together, more than doubling the numbers of those who were against the Dark Lord's ruling.
"The Rebel Force has finally requested an alliance with us," Jordan informed the organization during their previous secret meetings. "They have proven themselves to be against the Dark Lord and have helped many of our own. We would be stupid not to combine our resources. Together, we can take that son of a bitch down. This has been part of my plan since the beginning."
Jordan seemed to say that with every turn of event. Bernice was starting to believe that she said that whenever something went wrong to prevent chaos from happening. Bernice gave her credit though, it did work to keep everyone calm during a crisis. But she wondered if perhaps they were putting too much faith in Jordan. She didn't dare express these thoughts out loud; Jordan had too much support. And Bernice did want to see the Dark Lord fall, willing to do anything to make it happen.
"I was wondering if you know what happened to Malfoy," Longbottom inquired when they approached Bernice.
"Why would his status matter to you in the slightest?"
"I just got through talking with Hermione, and she said something that was maybe…" Fred Weasley sighed, defeated and exhausted. "I honestly don't know what she meant by it, but now I just want to see the bloody bastard."
"Jordan says he is to be spared— for now; he is forbidden to have any visitors."
"Maybe she'll make an exception!" Weasley said quickly when Bernice turned away from the Pures to continue to the mess hall for dinner.
Bernice twirled around. "And why would she do that?"
Weasley forced a toothy smile. "I tend to be the exception when it comes to most… rules."
"Fine," Bernice said, gesturing them to follow her. "She's eating; don't be surprised if she cops an attitude when you interrupt her meal!"
Ten minutes later, Bernice was grumbling as she escorted Weasley to the tent that Malfoy had been placed in. Jordan had ordered her to supervise the visit, allowing Weasley thirty minutes with Malfoy— so long as he didn't lay a hand (or spell) on him.
Weasley was right about him being the exception; no one besides a select few was allowed to converse with the prisoners. It annoyed Bernice, since she had just gotten in trouble herself for entering a prisoner's room. But she was more upset that she was missing dinner for this! Apparently, the visit couldn't wait as it involved Granger, and (according to Weasley) this visit could help Granger's decision of which side she was going to be a part of.
Bernice didn't understand how that was even possible, since she was under a spell that the Dark Lord had created. It only made sense for her to choose His side, right?
She muttered under her breath, making sure the redheaded Pure knew what she thought of this chaperone job she had been given.
"I really am thankful for your help," Weasley spoke quietly as Bernice showed a rarely-given permission form to the guys who were on guard at the moment, ensuring Malfoy didn't escape.
"And I want to personally thank you for making me miss my dinner," Bernice snapped. "This better work, Pure."
The man looked away, seemingly uncomfortable by her tone.
He deserved it. The food would be cold by the time she got back. Cold mashed potatoes were the pits, and reheating them was not the same, not the same at all.
"Please!" the pathetic cry of the Malfoy Pure cried out as soon as they stepped in. "I don't know anything more— I told you everything! Please…" he sniviled— his back was turned to them, and he was trying so hard to twist his head around to see who had come for a 'visit'. "I just want to go home!"
"Merlin, you sound like such an child!" Bernice rolled her eyes.
"Malfoy," Weasley greeted in a low tone from behind the man. Bernice could see that he had balled up his fists. She elbowed him gently, giving him a reminder that he couldn't harm Malfoy.
Weasley took a visual deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. "I just got through with talking to Hermione…" he began.
"If I find out that any of you have hurt her, you'll be dead—"
"Because only you can knock her around?!"
Malfoy didn't say anything for a few seconds. He hung his head down low, struggling to free himself from the binds around his wrists. "That was before…"
"Before that bullshit, brainwashing spell?!"
"I keep telling you people!" Malfoy cried out. "I don't hate her anymore! Yes, the spell helped, and deep down, I hate that she's a Mud— erm, that she's… not pure, but… I also know — deep within— that she is… one of a kind, incredibly special—"
"It's just the spell talking—" Bernice interrupted, making sure that Weasley wouldn't buy into this junk of a story.
"No!" Malfoy insisted. "Well, at first, yes, but the spell doesn't create feelings, it doesn't make them go away, it just… keeps you from acting upon the aggressive, most strongest ones. It allows you to overlook your spouse's imperfections. I still know they are there, but it makes me not care about them."
"What about when the spell breaks?" Weasley asked. "What then?"
Malfoy shrugged, clueless on what to answer with. "I don't think it can be broken…"
"For every spell that exists, there is a counter to it," Bernice quoted Jordan. "We will break the spell, and we will dispose of those who have wronged us when the time comes."
"But I've done nothing of my own choosing!"
"Surely you have done something? One doesn't simply become the Dark Lord's most loyal servant by just existing!" Bernice argued.
"I did what I had to do! But I didn't enjoy it, didn't suggest any of it!"
"Maybe not the sins, but you definitely bathed yourself in the power that was rewarded for your crimes," Weasley growled.
"It was all I was taught to ever do… Please…! Just let us go... I've done all I could for you, if the Dark Lord finds out that I'm not where I should be, he'll kill me…and… her..."
"Sounds like quite the predicament," Weasley noted sarcastically. Bernice followed him as he walked around Malfoy so he could see his face.
She set her jaw, noticing coin sized patches of skin had been removed from several locations of Malfoy's half naked body. Weasley looked like he was about to be sick, and his eyes even softened, sympathizing with the Pure.
"I've been through much worse," Malfoy muttered, looking away, slightly embarrassed. "Don't look at me like that…"
"Why didn't they just take his hair?!" Weasley demanded, addressing Bernice. "They didn't need to do that!"
She lifted her shoulder up in a shrug. "M.U. doesn't take kindly to those who do us wrong. I hear he's still lucky to still have his penis— Charles had threatened to cut it off and use it as a dildo—" Here, Bernice gave Draco a cold stare down, "—and not for his own use."
The blond man's eyes widened, and his Adam's apple bobbed nervously.
"Luckily for you, Jordan's just a wee bit more humane than some of us; personally, I feel that specific idea for punishment is completely fitting."
"That is one thing that I deny— I do not get aroused when forcing myself on someone—"
"But you did do it to her, didn't you?" Weasley immediately pounced, following that statement.
"I— Well… not exactly," Malfoy stumbled over his words. "The physical abuse— at first, when she was so incredibly stubborn— but not sexual, no… I like my women… willing… definitely not crying." Malfoy shuddered in disgust. "Or… screaming… in some cases." His eyes went out of focus. "I protected her as best as I could from emotional abuse, but Gryffindors are born leaders, hardly ever submissive. I admit, I could have treated her better— and I do now, now that she's accepted the spell and her position as my wife, and not fighting me every minute that we're together— but… well you know," Malfoy said, looking at Bernice. "I could have been a whole lot worse. I am certainly not Blaise."
Even though the most horrid of memories of Blaise had been erased by Jordan, Bernice still knew that she had been assaulted by the man, both physically and emotionally: Jordan had told her of it and also informed her that the abuse had been so bad that the memories of it had to be extracted in order for her to move forward. So Bernice didn't remember what the details were, but she was well aware that Blaise Zabini was the worst excuse for a man to walk on the Earth.
Bernice nodded at Malfoy's words. Though memories of Blaise Zabini were gone, it was still scary to think that one person could cause so much damage.
"Why do you follow him: Voldemort?" Weasley asked, breaking an awkward moment of silence.
Malfoy winced as if someone had slapped him across the face. "Don't call him that—"
"I will call him whatever I want— if you don't like the killing and don't like the torturing— your name already has power, so it can't be that— so if you don't like anything he has to offer—"
"Actually, I quite like the marriage spell—"
"Malfoy," Weasley growled in warning. "Answer. The. Question."
Malfoy looked down. "I'm scared of dying… I'm not brave like some people, nor careless like the people who stand up against him. I don't want to die. And until recently, I wasn't very happy with my life, but I did all I could to keep breathing, to show him that I'm worth living— he kills people just for fun, after all, and don't think that I haven't been spared from his brutality!"
Weasley paced the floor a few steps, thinking. He stopped, looking dead serious, directly at Malfoy. "Voldemort is going down," he said persistently. "He will lose—"
Malfoy shook his head. "No, he's inhuman now, he can't die."
"There are ways to contain a beast, even if he is immortal," Bernice spoke up.
"Do you really care about her?" Weasley asked.
"My wife?"
"I mean Hermione— don't call her that in front of me."
Malfoy gave it a thought. "Yes… I think I do… all I've been doing is wondering if she's okay— that means something, doesn't it?" he asked uncertainly. "I've been trying to break out of here just to find her and take her home, where she'll be safe and away from you nutty people!"
"Voldemort's not immortal; he's still capable of dying."
"You're delusional, the Dark Lord can never fall, not since Potter—"
"Harry Potter's still alive…"
Malfoy laughed. "What spell did you get conked with?!"
Weasley reached into the neck of his shirt, pulling out a necklace with a white, smooth rock. He rolled it around his fingers a couple of times before pulling it up and over his head.
Both Bernice and Malfoy gasped out as the man transformed from Fred Weasley to Harry Potter right before their eyes. Red hair darkening into near black and messy strands. Height shortening. Eyes lightened before turning into that beautiful, enchanting colour of emerald green that they were once known for.
"Pot-Potter?! How in Merlin's— but you— I saw Him— He killed you…!"
"We need her, Malfoy," Harry Potter spoke in a firm, serious voice, "and before we can have her, we need you. You only get this one chance to decide, which shall it be: would you rather help us defeat the monster who has been the cause of every nightmare you have had since you were a child; or would you rather continue to have these people cut pieces from you, bit by bit, until you are nothing but scarce meat on bones?"
Review Responses:
jen7: I actually wrote this chapter in just a couple days, lucky you! Hehehe
AKxx:
Well, I'll probably check out the pre-squel when I finish the other story ;)
My OC fics? You must mean Dove, hehehe. Yeah, a lot of errors there (it's kinda embarrassing), I'll have to go back and edit those to where the grammar is better.
Bernie is totally awesome, but I feel for that poor girl, really.
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His Relinquishment