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His Relinquishment	By : lexiatel Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 70413 -:- 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
- 27
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Hermione went down to the kitchen, too upset to be around Draco. If she stuck around him long, she was probably going to hurt him severely, and though he had royally peeved her off, she didn't want to really hurt her husband.
As soon as she sat down with an irritated huff, a house-elf that worked in the kitchen (his name being Switch) came up to her.
"Mistress would like anything?"
"A plate of lemon biscuits and a cup of tea, please," she muttered, fingering her wand.
Her outburst in the library had been unnecessary and childish, and all done for nothing— Draco still hadn't told her what memory he had wiped nor why.
The nerve of him to kiss her after he had finally confessed he did in fact lie to her (not that she thought he was even remotely innocent in the first place)! Hermione had been stunned that he had actually admitted to doing it and also apologize for it. An apology that had sounded so secure. So real.
She dunked a biscuit into her tea to wet it before popping it into her mouth.
If he hadn't of kissed her, she would have probably forgave him right then and there, having found his honesty promising, given who he was.
But no! The bloody arse just had to take her moment of weakness as a way to control her!
Oh, yes, she knew exactly what he was trying to pull, but it didn't work!
Bloody, evil cockroach! I'll hex his bollocks off if he tries that again!
Why the kiss didn't work, Hermione wasn't sure. She may have been too upset with him, and the spell couldn't reach her magical core to take over feelings. She really didn't know the reason, but whatever it was, she was happy for it. Otherwise, knowing Draco, he would have shagged her right there in the library once he had her turned into a pile of mush.
Damn spell, she thought bitterly. She had been searching for a way to cancel it, but the only answer she was finding was if the person who cast it removed it themself or died.
No chance of either one of those happening.
She left the kitchen after rinsing her saucer and cup in the sink and aimlessly roamed the Manor, thinking. Finally, Hermione stopped at a room she came across, deciding that she was going to refuse to sleep in her suite out of pure spite.
Hermione's heart thudded with anticipation, thinking about what would happen when Draco found her. Strangely enough, she actually enjoyed their little fight earlier. Especially his soft pleas, begging her to stop.
Yes, she quite liked that the best.
*/*
All Draco could ask himself is how she knew; how had Hermione known he had erased a memory from her…?
Since she didn't know which memory it was, he had been successful with the task, so it made no sense that she knew he had done it.
His house-elves didn't know the actual story either, so none of them could have told her.
He didn't understand it, but the damage was done. Now he just needed to fix things and learn what tipped her off, because there was going to be more memories he would need to wipe. Draco had no doubt about that.
He discovered that Hermione hadn't returned to her room. They still had to do what the Dark Lord commanded of them, but Draco was hoping that her steam had faded away some, it being two hours since she left him on the floor of the library, moaning in pain.
Draco, being lazy, asked Bobby where she was, and Bobby informed him that she was in the North Wing.
"But she does not sleep, Master," Bobby announced. "Mistress paces the carpet."
Draco took a moment, contemplating what he should say and do. He had from now until the war ended to get her to trust him. He wasn't sure how he could do that, especially since he had already ruined what little trust she had in him.
He momentarily closed his eyes and made a silent prayer to the Gods above who were willing to listen to him. Then Draco knocked on the door.
"Wife?" he called out, refraining from entering the room without her permission.
The door opened magically, her having cast a spell to allow him in. He did not step forward, seeing her glare that was focused on him.
He stood with his hands opened, slightly raised so that Hermione could see that he was unarmed.
"And just what do you want?" Hermione tapped her wand against the underside of her wrist. He got the impression that she knew precisely what he was here for.
"I came to explain myself."
An eyebrow rose up in doubt. "Nothing more?"
Draco shook his head.
"Fine, but only if I can hold your wand for 'safe keeping', after last time, I'm not too interested in taking risks involving you."
He pursed his lips, not liking the thought of being wandless around her. "Past experiences warn me that that's a bad idea," he drawled out.
"Don't you trust me, darling?" Hermione mocked in innocence. "It is not I who lied, or have you forgotten so soon?"
"What if… we both put our wands away?" he proposed. "Then there's no chance of something going stale."
Hermione gave it a thought. "What if you're here for vengeance?"
Draco rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to hurt you, Hermione. Abuse, be it mental, magical,or physical, is quite… pointless when it comes to you."
"And what do you think would be effective on me then?"
He shrugged slightly and leaned up against the doorway. "I was thinking… understanding… respect, and perhaps… tender care?"
Hermione lowered her arms from where she had been rubbing the tip of her wand against her wrist. She gave him a considering look. "Sounds like an incredible start to catch my attention…"
He stepped forward. Just one step though. He had to be patient with her.
"You forgot honesty though," she told him bitterly.
He stood in place, not daring to move another inch until he felt Hermione would permit it. "I'll work on that too," he promised. "Anything you want, wife, and I'll do it. I owe you, and I will make it up to you."
Hermione folded her arms across her chest. "Prove to me that I can trust you."
Draco slowly inhaled a long, deep breath. He closed his eyes, in near disbelief of what he was about to do. "Alright, I will," he said deeply, extending his arms all the way out to the sides, parallel to his shoulders. "You may temporarily possess my wand through the duration of our talk."
Hermione cautiously approached him, likely thinking he was going to attack her as she reached into his suit to fetch it out. He did not move though. Instead, he relished in how sweet her scent was. It lingered even after she backed away.
Hermione now held both his and her wands in one hand. She pointed them at a desk chair. "You can sit there."
Draco reluctantly obeyed, currently having to play her little game for the time being. When he was seated, she sat herself on the bed, facing him. "What memory did you take?"
He went straight to the explanation. "We skipped a night of sex, and because of that, The Dark Lord immediately punished us the following morning—yesterday morning."
Hermione stiffened. "What did he do?" Her voice had softened in fright.
"What do you think he did?" he flatly asked.
"So you were…" She tilted her head. "You were protecting my mental stability…"
"Indeed."
"Tell me what happened…"
"He was chunking me up into pieces…"
Hermione's face paled. "Ch-Chunk?"
He nodded. "Threatened to make you eat them if you made a sound while you watched."
She covered her mouth and closed her eyes, trying to keep herself from throwing up.
"Did-Did he torture me too...?" she asked shakily.
"He did not. He's not going to harm you— not yet anyway."
"Because of the…" Hermione looked away, touching a hand to her stomach.
"The children of the future are detrimental to His plan."
"And just what is His plan?"
Draco gave her a serious look and swung his left leg over his right, crossing the two. "What do you think, wife? What do you suppose an immortal Dark Lord intends to do in the future, a future where our population has forcibly been multiplied?"
"Make them all into Death Eaters…?"
Draco leaned forward with a blank face. "Which would eventually lead to World domination…" he whispered darkly. He sat back up, slightly smiling. "Our blood will probably help lead a country one day."
"No…" Hermione shook her head. "No, please, I can't let that happen!"
"You've no choice. It's inevitable— now tell me how you knew that I have been playing inside your head."
Hermione didn't answer him. She probably hadn't even heard him. Her eyes were dazed, staring off in space, badly affected by the news of what the Dark Lord was planning.
"Hermione?" He sharply clapped his hands, making her blink back into focus.
"Yes, my husband?" she asked, sounding a bit too hollow for his liking.
"May I stand now and have my wand back?"
She nodded, semi-distracted with her thoughts, and held out his wand, to which he quickly snatched from her.
"Imperio," he muttered, sending her into a trance to fetch his much needed answer.
"In rare cases, a person who has been subjected to the Obliviate or Legilimens charms can have small reactions to the spells," she said when he ordered from her the information that she held. "These reactions can be a sore throat, a headache, feeling of dizziness, and/or itchy eyes."
"Wouldn't you just think that you had some sort of cold?"
"You replaced my memory with one that did not exist."
"Stop trying to resist my curse!" Draco impatiently ordered her when he saw that she was stretching out her fingers in an abnormal way. "Answer my questions thoroughly, as if you were back at Hogwarts and boasting about your bloody knowledge! How did you know that I gave you a fake memory?!"
Hermione's eyes narrowed, she twirled her neck around, still attempting to fight his off attack.
Not until you spit the information that is needed!
"Tell me!" Draco demanded hastily, recasting the Imperious curse, strengthening its power. "How did you know?!"
She went completely still, his curse out-performing her will. "The fake memory did not contain any sense of smell, indicating that it was not my own."
So that was it. He had never heard of such things, but what a brilliant way to diagnose a spell casting.
He smiled at her intelligence and knowledge, and reached out to play with a strand of her hair, absently admiring her skills.
"Tell me, Hermione, do you suffer any identifying reactions from the Forgetfulness Potion?"
"I do not."
"Excellent." He called up a house-elf to fetch him the potion.
"I want you to drink this." Draco handed her a cup of tea that had a few drops of the potion in it.
He released her from his Imperious curse as soon as she took the first swallow, then took the cup away from her when she gave him a confused look.
"Were we… dueling?"
"It's a new idea of foreplay," he smoothly supplied, gently pushing her onto her back, molding his body into hers, making her smile in pure arousal. "I dare say, wife, I quite enjoyed the game. We should do it again some time."
Hermione nodded, agreeing, before crashing her lips against his, reacting just as she should when their bodies made contact: hungry, needy, and incredibly slutty.
Which was precisely the way Draco wanted her.
*/*
She walked down the dark corridor with her wand held out, tip-toeing along the way, on high alert. Her heart pounded against her chest, the sound of her racing pulse could be heard in her ears since all around her was silent.
She turned around quickly, her gut telling her that he was behind her, but her eyes searched thoroughly in the very dim light of the hall.
She saw nothing. Not even an unusual shadow.
She backed away, one slow, quiet step at a time, unable to rid herself of the feeling that he was close by.
She dared not to say a word though, else he'd for sure know her location if the feeling was incorrect at all.
Eyes never staying in one spot for long, she continued to look for him, hoping to find him before he found her first.
"So, my sweet," his voice purred behind her, making her snap around and fire an attack.
He laughed, blocking it, finding her attempt hilarious. "Did you really think you could get away?"
"No!" She couldn't let him win! She had to fight! She cast a series of spells, determined to overpower him, knowing that if she tried hard enough, she could manage it.
To her disappointment, he easily blocked every spell she cast, not even breaking a sweat.
"You'll have to try harder than that," he told her triumphantly, raising his wand up to retaliate.
*/*
"It has been done, My Lord," Draco announced from his position at his Master's feet.
"How are you and your wife getting along?" the Dark Lord asked curiously, simply ignoring what was just said.
All Draco could see was darkness, it was not an uncommon thing to experience when your face was a mere half an inch from touching the floor. His knees ached against the chilly, hardness of the stone he was kneeling on. He remained there as he had been taught to; the Dark Lord would unleash a Cruciatus curse on him should he move even a twitch— something Draco had learned very quickly when he had first took the Mark.
"We have our occasional fight. It seems the marriage spell might be wearing off, My Lord, she seems... less agreeable as each day passes, though, I fix that quickly, easily confusing her."
The Dark Lord chuckled. Draco pressed his eyes shut, accustomed to that patronizing sound of His. His Master must have thought he said something stupid.
"My boy, a marriage spell?" He asked, thoroughly amused. "What is this you speak about?"
Draco was unsure if he wanted to answer this or not, but He had asked a question, so Draco had no choice.
"I apologize," he quickly started, hoping his Master would have mercy on him. "Many of us had this belief that the rings were linked to some sort of magic—"
"They do have some enchantments, yes."
Draco waited in bated breath for the Dark Lord to continue, but his Master did not further explain.
"We thought that it made ourselves more submissive to the marriage."
The Dark Lord sniggered. "You foolish children, why would I do that?"
"To avoid abuse on our wives…"
"Did you abuse your wife after you wedded her?"
Draco took a second before he grimly admitted doing so.
"Then wouldn't you think that these submissive thoughts would start just as soon as you married her— if they were in fact linked to the marriage itself?"
The Dark Lord's inquiry hit him like a brick, because He was right, Draco would have suppressed some of his anger as soon as he slipped that ring on Hermione's finger. But then… what explained their attraction to each other?
"I don't understand, My Lord, what is causing our attractions to our partners?"
"There are a few spells involved. Derivatives from love potions that were created by none other than those Weasley twins." He laughed softly. "I had them enhanced a little— lust spells, nothing more. You see, once you kiss your wife for the first time, you activate the spell that is set in the rings. Your thirst to mate with her will began after that. When you mate with her for the first time, your lust will deepen, it will continue until…" He paused for effect, a quiet chuckle escaping his mouth. "Until she's been bred."
Draco held perfectly still, though he was starting to sweat and ache all over from the uncomfortable position he was being forced to stay in. It was not the longest he had been stuck like this though.
"The effects wear off then?" Draco asked, wondering if he was understanding his Master correctly.
"Your sole purpose was to breed with her, after that, what does it matter to me if you bed her; if you want to dig around in the chambers, son, that will be up to you. Imperius her, coerce her, force her, I don't care what you want to do to satisfy your desires— so long as that child is not harmed in any way, but keep in mind, I will want Hermione to be rebred sometime in the future, so damaging your wife will be a punishable crime— but you already know this."
"Of course, My Lord," Draco acknowledged the warning, though he obviously already had planned to keep her out of harm's way.
"Go home, Draco," the Dark Lord ordered him softly. "Your wife will surely need you these next upcoming months, and I expect you, out of all my children, to take responsibility for your actions."
"Yes, My Lord. Thank you." Draco stood up in relief, his knees threatening to give out beneath him.
"Congratulations," he heard his Master say just as he stepped into the Floo.
*/*
Draco sat down on the sofa in his tea room, gesturing for his guests to take a seat.
"Where's your lovely wife, mate?"
Gritting his teeth for a moment, slightly annoyed that the man had such a fixation on Hermione, Draco answered as casual as he could muster. "In the garden."
Draco eyed the dark man who had sores all over his body, but Blaise did not bring that up. He didn't even seem bothered by them.
Bernice sat next to the man, quiet as usual. Her cheek sported a fresh-looking bruise.
Draco assessed the two in immense confusion, though hiding his puzzlement with a displayed smirk, thinking on what he could say about their appearances.
How could they let Blaise escape? Draco thought dumbfoundedly, and at the same time, fail to protect one of their own…?
"So have you been trying out new forms of foreplay too?" Draco asked. Blaise was very much like the Dark Lord when it came to sexual fantasies.
Masochism immensely disgusted Draco.
"Not quite," Blaise answered, setting a hand on Bernice's thigh, tracing patterns with his fingers. Then he stood up, announcing that he had to make a trip to the loo.
"Why is he here?!" Draco hissed to Bernice once Blaise was well out of the room and Draco had cast a spell to keep the following conversation from being overheard.
"He… He escaped…"
"How?!"
"I don't know…" she answered pathetically, tears filling her eyes. "The same way you did, we're guessing— there was a body lying dead in his room."
A body… Draco thought on her words. "Like Avada Kedavra dead?"
She nodded in answer. Draco pursed his lips. Blaise could not wandlessly cast Avada Kedavra, and even if he could, he wouldn't. Draco would have thought that Bernice should know this by now.
He curled the fingers of one hand into a fist and flew up from his seat, pointing his wand.
"At least if you're going to lie to me, try and get your facts straight!" he snarled threateningly. He had severe trouble with stopping himself from cursing her, killing her!
What stopped him, he did not know, because they were trying to play him, and that was not something that anyone would normally get away with.
"You tell me what exactly is going on, or I will take it from you, and I assure you, that I won't be nice about it!"
"Jordan sent us here," she started, eyeing his wand, sinking herself more into the back of the chair she was sitting in. "She ordered him to attack Hermione, as a way to break the Vow you made with Harry."
"Oh, I see, you filthy Mudbloods arranged to have Potter make a deal with me, wanting to make sure Hermione wouldn't go against your side, and now that you have that deal, you can easily have me killed because I failed to protect her, and it'll all look like a mere accident, and then you'll swish Hermione away, thinking she would let it all go, unnoticed, just like that?"
"Well, not exactly that, but yes, in a summary…"
"I ought to kill you," Draco growled, snatching her up by the hair and taking her wand from the inside of the arm of her dress. He hauled her out of the room, making his way to gardens where Hermione was at.
Bernice fought him, punching at his chest until he paralyzed her so she couldn't move.
"Idiot Mudbloods," he cursed, freezing the man who was posing as Blaise and had been in pursuit to find his wife and hurt her. "Before you make such brilliant plans, I advise you to research your enemies more thoroughly.
"I had no choice," Bernice stammered as he threw her toward her comrade.
"Bernice…" the man using Blaise body warned her. "Don't…"
"No, you don't get to talk!" Draco said, sending the man to his knees and silencing him. "You should just be happy that I fucking saved your arse! How dare you even think about hurting her!"
"Draco…?" Hermione came walking up, confusion on her face.
"Go inside," he ordered of her, glaring his eyes at a shaking Bernice.
"But—"
"I don't intend to kill them, Hermione, but if you do not go now, I will brutally end their lives while you watch!"
Hermione stiffened, looking at each one of their 'guests' before she slowly made her way back to the building.
"Jordan, she's no different than him, I must warn you," Bernice whispered to Draco. "She's going to kill you all when your usefulness has been fulfilled.
"I already figured this," Draco snapped. "We'll deal with the Dark Lord, then take care of your saint of a leader."
"You can't, Draco, she's too powerful…!"
"One problem at a time," he said, forcing himself to be calm, Bernice's frantic state was slowly getting to him. He attempted to ease her. "You don't know everything—"
"She's been at this for years, since before Voldemort—"
"Don't say his bloody name!" Draco shouted, shaking his wand at her in sudden anger. "Damn you people are a lot of idiots! Never say his name. Never."
"Just a slip," she said shakily.
"That slip could be the death of you one day; remember that."
"What I meant to say is that she's been waiting to make her attack, playing him like a fiddle, getting him to trust her—"
"The Dark Lord doesn't trust anyone."
"If she wins, things are going to get worse for everyone. She plans to wipe out a whole lot of people, especially the Purebloods, and she'll use you to do it— she's already doing it!"
"Huh? How?"
"Half of you already can't reproduce," she explained vaguely, making Draco lower his wand, adding together all of the pieces.
Everything made so much more sense now. He was baffled; shocked; amazed.
"So what can we do then?" he asked Bernice, clearly at a loss.
"All we can do is pray, pray that we can work together long enough to get rid of both of them."
He studied the woman before him. She was taking a great risk for supplying such information and going against her leader. But the more Draco thought about it, the more he realized that she was doing no different than he was.
Which made him also wonder if she was telling him the complete truth, or was she playing mind games on him like he had done with them.
Time will reveal all, his mind told him as he pocketed his wand.
"Tell Jordan that the next time she sends someone to assault a member of the Manor, I will be forced to allow fate to run its course."
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His Relinquishment