Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Cast No Shadow	By : ColdWaterFairy Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 13628 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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AN: This part is from Draco's point of view. I felt it was important to do so because I didn't want to leave you readers with a sense that he had gone all sissy. Also it explains how he came by his wound.
Draco awoke out of a restless sleep. It took him a minute to place his surroundings. He was in the room off his office. He was starting to sit up when he felt the pain in his side. He hissed out a breath. He gritted his teeth and slowly sat up all the way, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He felt dizzy and waited a second before standing up. He walked into the bathroom and looked into the mirror as he passed it on the way into his office. He looked like he could be dead, he was so pale. He'd lost too much blood, which explained the dizziness he was feeling.

He walked over to the far wall of his office. When he said, "Blood orchid," a safe appeared. Draco reached in and pulled out a Pensieve. He walked back to his desk slightly unsteadily. He had to get the memories of what had happened tonight off his mind as quickly as possible before crucial details were lost. Putting his wand to his head, he started directing his memories into the Pensieve.

He had been following an informant who had just tipped him off about a Muggle sex-slave ring operating out of Kent. Draco knew the man was playing both sides, the greedy son of a whore. It was raining hard, which helped him in his task. He stayed about twenty feet behind the guy. The man was good, darting in and out among people, crossing the street, choosing back alleys instead of main roads, but Draco was better. He never lost sight of his target. He had been doing this for too long—living in shadow, blending into darkness, being one with it. It suited him. He no longer felt the cold but was able to keep his thoughts solely on the task at hand.

After what seemed like two miles the informant finally stopped at a door in an alleyway. His head darted to left and right, making sure no one else was around. He rapped his knuckles on the door twice, waited, and then rapped twice more. The door was opened by a huge wizard with a scar on the right side of his face running from his scalp to his jaw. He looked at the guy who stood there and grunted, moving out of the way to let him pass. Before he closed the door the large wizard looked up and down the alley.

Draco noted the address and turned back, planning to go back to his office so he could think and write up his report. He was so focused on what his next move was going to be that he didn't notice the two figures in front of him until one of them drawled, "What do we have 'ere?"

Draco's head snapped up. With reflexes honed from years of living in the underground he whipped his wand out and performed the Killing Curse. Unfortunately he wasn't quick enough to move out of the line of the second thug's attack and took a severing charm to his side. Despite the horrible pain radiating from his side he performed the Killing Curse again and watched as the second thug hit the ground. Draco didn't even blink an eye. He looked down at his side. He knew he needed to get back to the Ministry, and quickly.

He pulled a piece of cork out of his pocket, the Portkey instantly transporting him to his office. He took a step forward and swayed into his desk, hitting his thigh hard against a corner of it. He took a moment to let his eyes adjust to the dark. He walked, swaying, to the door that led to the small bathroom. He turned on the light and striped off his shirt, noting that the gash on his side was still bleeding steadily. He grabbed a hand towel and pressed it to his side, moaning from the pain of doing so. He grabbed his wand and sent a message via a Patronus to Albert, the medi-wizard on call for just such occasions. Draco threw the towel on the floor and was leaning on the lip of the sink when he heard a gasp. Grabbing he wand, he swung around, ready to do battle for the second time that night.

His eyes took in the witch with bushy brown hair and brown eyes, taking a moment to place her. Fuck! What was she doing here? He wiped his face clean of any emotion; when she finally looked up at his face she saw only cold gray eyes. He watched her face as she placed him, saw her struggle to accept that he was actually alive instead of dead like the whole wizarding community thought. He would have relished it more if he hadn�t felt like he was going to be sick any second.

With that, Draco pulled his wand away from his temple. He leaned back in his chair, recalling the rest of his encounter with Hermione Granger. He knew she worked here, something he found hard to take. The annoying bitch had only got the job because she was diddling Harry Potter. A sneer came automatically to Draco's face at the thought of Harry Potter. Oh, how he hated those two with a passion. He had kept his expression blank when he'd been told she was stepping into the spot as third in command. It was only when he was alone that he let his anger take control, and he punched his fist into a wall. He embraced his anger a second longer before putting it back into the box that held all his emotions. Let the Mudblood have the job, he thought; he wouldn't ever have to deal with her.

He didn't like the fact that she'd seen him for the first time when he was in no position to set her straight on what her place was. As it was, he could only get in a few snide remarks before the pain and loss of blood overtook him. He hated her all the more for seeing him in such a weakened condition. He settled for making her as uncomfortable as possible. He remembered the scalding feeling of her touch on him as she led him over to the toilet. He didn't want her filthy hands on him. He'd been about to tell her so when he'd lost consciousness.

He came around from the searing pain in his side. What was the stupid twit trying to do? He let her drag him over to the bed. As she was lowering him onto the bed he made sure she lost her balance, falling on top of him. Her cheeks had flamed red. He needled her with a snide comment. She hissed and shot up, but not before she'd hit his injured side. He couldn't help but admire that move. She left the room and returned with a glass with some kind of elixir in it. She held the glass out to him. No way was he going take anything she gave him. Her eyes narrowed and she threatened him. He would have refused again, but he knew he was too weak to really fight her off if she made good on her threat. He took the glass and downed the contents, realizing it was a sleep draught as it slid down his throat. Putting the glass on the table, he sat back on the bed and stared at her.

He wondered why she was here, but more than anything he wanted her gone so he could succumb to the pain and sleep. "Go home, Granger. I'm fine now."

He saw the internal struggle on her face. She wanted to leave, but not until she knew he was okay. The thought that she might care only annoyed him further. "I'll wait until you fall asleep and then leave," she said. She had pulled a chair close to the bed and sat down in it. He wanted to yell at her to bugger off but just then the elixir took effect. He closed his eyes and willed her to go away. He was asleep instantly.

Shaking off the reflection, he focused on the Pensieve sitting on his desk. He stood up, picked up the Pensieve, and took it back to the vault. When he closed the door, the wall instantly returned to normal. No one would guess there was anything behind it. He sighed; he was tired but felt strong enough to go back to his place. With a quick glance around his office he Apparated home.
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