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Halloween Holiday	By : goldhorse Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 21240 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. JK Rowling does. I make no money writing this story. Seriously, I'm dead broke.

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The door blew open like it had been blasted off its hinges. There was a banishing spell on Draco’s tongue before he even opened his eyes. Good thing too. Seemed his banishing ward had worn off during the night. He must have been more exhausted than he thought, or more preoccupied. He’d held one in his sleep before but this demon was determined.
“Malfoy,” Hermione squeaked, her eyes locked to the demon’s black ones.
“Don’t make contact,” he hissed, yanking her behind him and casting a stronger repelling ward.
The bed started rocking, the night stand creaked, but they didn’t budge from their spot. He was thankful for remembering the sticking charms earlier. That demon was a determined little shit but he refused to banish him. There was no telling what might take its place. Besides, he didn’t have Snape here as a second. It would be too dangerous and he didn’t want to thrust Granger into that kind of risk. He knew she was strong enough, but he didn’t think he was.
“What are we going to do?” she whispered, hiding her face behind his back.
He grabbed her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. “I’ll take care of it. Just avert your eyes and recast the wards.”
“You need to banish him.”
He shook his head. “Granger, muggle demons aren’t like magical ones. When they are banished, they don’t go back to their source. They enter a different dimension. And they come back. Maybe not that night or the next but they always find a way back. Some idiot muggle plays with a Ouija board or tries to worship the devil or dabble in Wiccan and they are called back. But it’s All Hallows Eve. Do you know what that means?”
“The spirit world comes alive.”
He nodded. “She’ll be back tomorrow. But he’ll need to be appeased tonight.”
“How are we going to do that?”
“We are going to do nothing. I am going to go out there and reason with him.”
“Reason. With a Demon. How?”
He smirked. “In Latin... For some reason, all demons know Latin. I’ll just offer him something he wants more than you.”
“What’s that?”
“My secret. Sit tight, Granger.”
He made sure she did as she was told and cast a protection circle around himself before going into the hall with the demon. Truth be told, he wasn’t really sure what to offer the demon, other than power. However, that offer was not one he was willing to make. Even a fraction of power and the demon would be able to capture them. But as he faced the demon, he got an idea. He was more attached to that female nurse than most demons were so he promised to summon her back… in exchange for peace for the night. He was sure he could do it, so long as he focused. Luckily, the demon agreed.
He didn’t let the protection circle down as he padded down the stairs and to the far side of the building to the morgue. He seriously hated that room. It was crawling with ghosts who had lost their lives here. But he thought about Granger and how terrified she was, her tiny shaking frame behind him, and he steeled himself. He’d faced worse.
Summoning the demon was a bit trickier than he had hoped it would be, mostly because the other demon didn’t know her name. If he did, it would be child’s play. But after a few tries, he finally found her, curled into some space in another dimension waiting to get back through. He chanted a long spell, one he learned as a small child when his father thought it would be fun to teach him how to dabble in the dark. The demon came through easily, her face one of relief and murderous intent. Before he let her out of the circle, he retracted an oath from both of them, one that a demon had to abide by. Muggle demons had laws just like magical ones. If they swore on their power source and went back on it, then they went back too. It was a trick wizards had learned long ago when they discovered muggles summoning demons.
He backed out of the room, unwilling to take his eyes off the demons. As he crossed the threshold, he slammed the door and put up a small block charm. They could get through it in minutes but he wanted to be well away from them by then. He raced up the stairs, carefully avoiding the creaks before taking off at a dead run down the hall. He heard the door break downstairs as he rushed through the door to his room, casting every spell he knew at the threshold and several more around the room, fortifying Granger’s extensive work in his absence.
“Wow,” he breathed, taking everything in. “Where did you learn all the repelling charms?”
She blushed and shrugged. “A bit of light reading.”
He smirked and shook his head. “They should leave us alone for the night but I’ll stay up just to make sure.”
“That’s hardly fair. We’ll take it in shifts.”
He frowned at her stubbornness and sighed in defeat. Granger would never budge on that one. He could tell from the glint in her eye and the tilt of her head. She always jutted her chin out when she wouldn’t budge on something.
“I’ll take the first one,” he said, walking over to the corner so he could keep an eye on the room.
“Don’t be silly,” she said before he could sit. “It’s much more comfortable over here.”
It took everything he had to squash the grin that wanted to break out. He felt like jumping up and down like a child with a new toy. When he had himself under control, he slid into his bed roll, noting that it was softer than the floor. He could also watch Granger sleep, which he had been longing to do for a while now. He wondered if the worry lines in her forehead went away, if she slept with her lips slightly open, if she spoke in her sleep. Mostly, he just wanted an opportunity to study her without being caught.
“It’s colder in here,” she said, shivering as she slid into her bed roll.
He cast another warming charm around them, not wanting her to be any more uncomfortable than necessary. Then he cast a cushioning charm on the bottom of the roll and another to make the covers softer. She shot him a strange look, almost like annoyance before she snuggled in for the night. He kept his eyes trained on the door, his back ridiculously straight until he heard her breathing even out.
When he was sure she was out, he studied her. The furrow in her brow and the tightness in her jaw didn’t go away, which he found quite sad. Everyone needed to let their guard down sometime. It seemed Granger couldn’t. Whether that was due to his presence, the demon’s presence, or something else, he couldn’t be sure. He did wish he could take it away though. Damn he wanted her. And he wanted her to want him, too. Was it so much to ask? But perhaps it was. He’d been an absolute arse in the past, which was why he was trying so hard this year. Maybe it wasn’t enough but he wouldn’t stop trying. Malfoys always got what they want and he’d be no different. He just refused to stoop as low as his father had.
The room grew colder and his eyes got heavy. He cast a tempus and frowned. How could it only be ten ‘til midnight? It felt like they’d been there for hours. Then he tensed. If the activity had been that strong before the bewitching hour… he shivered and drew the covers up around him. He considered putting on a shirt but he didn’t want to get up again to get it. He cast yet another repelling spell around the room and a second blanket silencing spell. Maybe Granger wouldn’t wake up and he could keep watch the entire night. It wouldn’t be the first time that he’d gone without sleep. Though Pansy was right. He was a right grouch when he was tired. He made a note to consciously keep his ire from Granger. It wasn’t her fault her idiot boyfriend attracted a demon.
Ex-boyfriend. He grinned in the dim candle light. It had worked! Granger was so angry with the weasel that she was giving him up. And she didn’t even blame Draco. Then again, should she? No, she shouldn’t. Weasley had a mouth. He was more than capable of saying no. Pansy had no powers of persuasion or seduction for that matter. She wasn’t even that great at normal spells. No, the weasel had successfully dug his own grave and all Draco had to do was stand there.
The bed started rocking back and forth, straining the metal and testing the sticking charm he’d put in place. He frowned and cast an immobilizing spell on it, rendering it still. The poltergeists shouldn’t be able to do that. The most they should be able to do with so many spells in the way was make things creak and groan, perhaps shudder, but not full out rock and strain the charms. That would take… Merlin he was an idiot. It was Samhein, the one night of the year where the veil between living and dead was the thinnest. Spells wouldn’t be enough. He racked his brain, remembering every magical ritual his parents ever made him perform and every muggle ritual they’d made him read about. Food, fire, livestock, dressing in costumes to hide from spirits, playing pranks, carving turnips, none of it seemed very helpful now. He cast another spell on the nightstand as it too threatened to break loose from the wall.
Once things were quiet again, he marveled at the fact that Granger was still asleep. She still looked tense but she was asleep. Or faking really well. He decided not to wake her though. No use in both of them being on edge. He was wide awake now so he summoned his journal and began writing.
I don’t think I will ever take Samhein for granted again. I mean, living in a castle full of ghosts is one thing. Spending the night in a demon infested muggle mental hospital is enough to make a bloke go spare. But there is a silver lining. I get to watch Granger sleep. She’s beautiful in repose, though still too tense. I could think of something that would loosen her up but I doubt she’d appreciate it. Now at least. But there is hope. She ditched the weasel. I might have to owe Pansy for this, not that I’m going to tell her. About time that bint did something for me besides make my cock shrivel up.
Granger turned in her sleep and moaned. He froze, quill poised over the paper. He silently cursed his reaction to her, cautiously reaching down to readjust his suddenly tight sleep trousers. That moan… he shook his head and started to write again.
Granger is going to be the death of me. Even innocent actions set me off now. She pouts and I want to bite those cute little lips. She gasps and I imagine me being the cause of it. She groans and my cock stands at full attention. I’ve never been aroused by a girl so much before, not even when they were sucking me off. At first, I thought that if I just fucked her, it would get her out of my system. Now I’m not so sure. Would once be enough? No. I know myself too well for that. It will never be enough.
“No,” Hermione whimpered. “No please.”
Draco’s heart sank. His libido tanked in an instant. He slammed the journal shut and put it away. He really hoped that her dreams weren’t the nightmare he thought they were. But she thrashed clutched her stomach and then her neck and he knew. She was reliving that night on the floor of his drawing room. He wanted to throw up.
“It’s a fake. I swear!”
He swallowed down the bile in his throat and prepared to wake her up. She didn’t need to relive it again. He remembered that night with amazing clarity. Bellatrix was mad with bloodlust, as was Greyback. His father was just looking for a way to get back into the Dark Lord’s good graces. As if there was anything good in that tyrant. He remembered being appalled at the condition the trio was in and angry that Weasley looked to be in the best shape of them all. Potter’s face looked horrible but there was no mistaking those eyes. And Granger. She looked skeletal. Even then, she was strong, stronger than him.
“Dobby!”
“Wake up, Granger!” Draco shouted, unnerved as the memories flooded him. The fear, the pain, the overwhelming guilt that made him nauseous.
Draco was glad he had good reflexes. Granger came up with a vengeance, her wand already in hand and extended, ready to strike. He quickly dodged it and yanked the deadly piece of wood out of her hand, grabbing her wrists with his free hand. She was wide eyed and panting, a curse on her tongue.
“Easy,” he cooed, willing her to calm down. “Just a nightmare.”
“Nightmare,” she whispered, her eyes filling with tears.
His heart broke for her and he pulled her into his arms. No one escaped the war unscathed but she was affected more than most. No one faced Bellatrix and came out all right in the end. As she sobbed, he coaxed her into his lap and rocked her back and forth, humming a lullaby his mother used to sing for him when he was little. Before she could calm down, the bed and the nightstand started rattling again. He gasped in surprise as she clung to him, nearly cutting off his air.
“It’s just the ghosts, Granger. They sense your fear. It’s okay. You’re fine. Bellatrix is dead.”
She whimpered and pulled back, her eyes wide. “Dead. Oh gods Malfoy, I’m sorry.”
He chuckled. “Nothing to be sorry about. I’m quite glad. She was a sick twisted bitch.”
“She was your aunt,” she whispered, still trembling.
He sighed and pulled her into his chest again, trying to comfort her the best he could. “She was a psychotic zealot. The world is a better place without her.”
“You believe that?” she murmured into his chest.
“Always have.”
She nodded and wiped her eyes, giving a little laugh when she saw the state of his chest. “I’m sorry. Here, give me my wand and I’ll clean you up.”
“No, I think I’ll keep it for a few more moments,” he said, thinking about how quick she was. He quietly dried his chest with his wand and pulled her into his arm again. “Calm down a little bit and I’ll give it back.”
It took a while and three courses of his favorite lullaby before she quit shaking. After a while, she sighed and pulled back, an odd look on her face.
“What?” he asked.
She tilted her head and reached up to caress his cheek. He couldn’t stop his eyelids from fluttering closed at the contact. No one besides his mother had touched him so gently and even then, it had been such a long time that he scarcely remembered. It took everything he had not to snuggle with the soft fingers. Malfoys did not snuggle.
“You do have a tender side.”
He snorted and pulled back, making sure to set his face in a grimace. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
She quirked an eyebrow. “How many other girls have you let cry on your chest?”
“Slytherins don’t cry.”
She bit her lip and looked down at his chest, reaching out to touch the faded silver line where Potter had cut him with the Sectemsempra curse. “I think we both know that’s a lie.”
Draco closed his eyes in humiliation. Of course Potter would tell his friends that he’d caught his sworn enemy blubbering like a baby in the loo. It made him feel like less of a man, to give into his urge to lose it. He was supposed to be a Malfoy, strong, independent, hard as stone. But the more he repeated the mantra, the more he wondered what being a Malfoy really stood for. So far, it had only meant egotism, blood prejudice, and defeat.
“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” she said softly, tracing the scar from his collar bone to his pectoral muscle, and still lower to his abdomen. “You’d be surprised at how many women want a man who isn’t afraid to cry.”
“Not Slytherins,” he said gruffly, trying to ignore the way her finger trailed ever closer to the place he most wanted it. “You never show weakness to anyone.”
“Not even your family? Or perhaps your lover?”
“No. You stay strong lest you lose your standings.”
“You can lose your standings with a lover?”
He sighed. “You can be betrayed by one.”
She pursed her lips and then sighed, tracing back up the scar and moving down again. “So what you are really saying is that Slytherins are not quick to trust.”
His lips quirked. “Something like that. Hard to trust a bunch of snakes always looking to get the upper hand.”
“Sounds awful.”
“Actually, I believe we are more prepared to deal with the real world, so to speak. Life is full of deals and compromises, quick thoughts and strategies. Courage, loyalty, book smarts, all of those things are useful, but you must have ambition to get you where you want to go. And a bit of sneakiness doesn’t hurt.”
“Slytherins don’t have loyalty?”
He frowned. “Depends on the Slytherin. I would have never pegged Snape to rat me out.”
“He didn’t rat you out,” she said harshly, grabbing his left arm. She hesitantly touched the faded pink mark and began drawing a slow circle around it. “He revealed your better nature. I hardly think it was a crime.”
“No one was supposed to know,” he said, closing his eyes.
Her touch seemed to burn him, or maybe it was the thought of her innocent flesh touching his marred arm. She shouldn’t ever have to contend with such a dark momento. But she did. He saw the scar on her neck when she wore her hair up, a gift from Bellatrix. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to look at her as she studied him.
“I don’t know how they don’t,” she said softly.
His eyes shot open at that, a look of abject horror on his face. “What?”
“You’re completely different,” she continued, ignoring his flinch as she brushed over the mark. “I mean, you’re still an arse most of the time but you don’t bully people anymore. I mean, I’m sitting here touching you, skin to skin, and you haven’t recoiled in disgust.”
“Why would I do that?”
Draco gritted his teeth in annoyance. He hadn’t meant to blurt that out. Now who was losing their touch? What the hell was wrong with him? One touch from Granger and he was babbling like a fucking first year Hufflepuff.
“I’m a mudblood,” she whispered.
He did wince then. It was like eighteen years of pureblood lessons came tumbling in on his head. And after all those years of having his superiority pounded into him, one lesson stood out clearly. It was one that Snape had been desperate for him to learn.
“Draco, muggleborns are not an abomination. Every person on the planet has the potential to be magical. Muggleborns usually have someone in their ancestry that was magical and for some reason, it chooses to fade out for generations only to manifest in them. There is no rhyme or reason for it either. Squibs are born from purebloods and muggleborns are born from seemingly no magic at all. What else could it be but fate? They are not an abomination. Rather, they are miracles.”
“Miracle,” he whispered, testing the word on his tongue. It shocked Granger so badly that she scuttled backwards a good few feet. “Snape says muggleborns are miracles.”
She furrowed her brow. “How so?”
“He says everyone has the potential to be magical. The ones it manifests in are miracles.”
“So you’re a miracle?”
He half laughed. “I think that means we both are… all of us… all of wizarding kind. We’re lucky enough to get to experience magic, to see what others can’t, do what others can’t. We’re miracles!”
She joined him in a bit of hysterical laughter. It felt good to laugh. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d truly laughed for the joy of it and not because he was expected to. Funny how one phrase could be so hilarious. They laughed until they were crying and wiping tears from their eyes.
“That was great,” she said, suppressing a giggle. “Just what I needed. Why don’t I take the next shift?”
He shook his head. “You’d only been out a few minutes. Get some more sleep. We’ve got a long way to go before morning.”
“But that’s impossible. What time is it?”
Draco handed her wand back to her and watched in shock as the tempus charm she cast said nine ‘til midnight. “No fucking way,” he breathed.
“It should be later than that,” she said with a frown. “It was a quarter ‘til midnight when we came inside.”
His heart skipped a beat. “You’re sure?”
She nodded. “Because we had to wait until 11:30 to pick the leaves from the snowbells, their peak. And then Professor Snape said we had to get out of town in fifteen minutes but we had to do it on foot. I kept an eye on Harry’s watch the entire time. That’s how Professor Snape knew we had to duck into this building.”
He blew out the breath he was unconsciously holding. “I cast a tempus before you woke up. It said ten ‘til. We’ve been sitting here much longer than a minute. And we definitely ran around more than five, what with the Weasel and you and Potter’s antics.”
She blushed but cleared her throat just the same. “What do you think it means?”
He frowned. “I don’t know. I haven’t heard of any time lapse properties for muggle ghosts. In fact, the only time related things documented are people losing time, staring into space for hours when it only felt like minutes.”
“I wonder if the others have noticed it,” she murmured.
“Oh no, Granger. I made a bargain with that fucking demon to leave us alone but he won’t hesitate to take you given half the chance if you go gallivanting down the halls.”
“But we have to know. What if time is different outside this house? We could have disappeared for weeks! They’ll send a search party.”
He cursed under his breath. Damn Granger for being right. It wouldn’t look very good if they disappeared, a band of Slytherins with the Golden Trio in tow. He wanted to scream and throw things and throw a fit like a toddler but her refrained. Once again, he was going to have to brave the unknown, the dangerous, and the potentially deadly for the greater good. He really hated that phrase.
“Okay,” he said, sighing. “I’ll go. You stay here. Do NOT open that door.”
“Absolutely not,” she growled. “I can take care of myself.”
“You know how to banish a demon then, ey?”
Her stern face cracked a little. “Well, no. But you could teach me.”
“It took me years to learn, Granger. I’ve been doing this since I was little.”
She blew out a breath. “Just teach me that spell that kept them back. I’ll be fine.”
He hated to admit it, but she needed to know it anyway. So he stood and motioned for her to do the same. It took her quite some time to be able to conjure the shield form of the containment spell. He wasn’t surprised. It was very dark, not illegal but dark just the same and she didn’t have the kind of darkness he had, the kind that was grown over time. But she did get the spell.
“Finally,” she groaned. “I’ve never had to try that hard in my life!”
He chuckled darkly. “You’ll be fighting for your life in a minute.”
They both stuffed their feet into their shoes and looked at the door. Draco shook his head and bent down, grabbing another undershirt. It was bloody cold last time. He thought he caught a look of disappointment on Granger’s face but quickly shook it off. Grand delusions wouldn’t help them at all. Then he took a deep breath and opened the door, casting the shield immediately. Just as he thought, the demons were there.
“Stay back,” he ordered them, motioning for Granger to come up close and flank him.
The walked back to back down the hall. The demons followed at a distance, their coal black eyes trained on his. He was glad he motioned for her to keep walking and chose to walk backwards, covering her at all times. Her shield was weaker than his. But the stairs proved a problem. He wavered only once, thankful that she was so quick as she covered his arse until he righted himself.
When they reached the bottom, he couldn’t help but gasp. The ghosts were all starting to congregate, many only mere shimmers. He could sense their energy and wondered when he’d gained that ability. At least they didn’t seem as malicious as the demons. They were merely hungry for energy. He had an epiphany but decided to keep it quiet until he could confirm it.
“The door,” Hermione breathed, trying not to run so she wouldn’t leave him.
Luckily, his legs were much longer than hers and he could keep up, even backwards. He heard the door creak and then a loud gasp but he was too occupied to turn. The demons rushed them immediately and he was having a time keeping them back.
“It’s… we’re… it can’t… what?” she stammered.
“In English please,” he growled through gritted teeth.
“It’s just as we left it, maybe literally six minutes. It’s still pouring and our footprints are clearly visible. Time really has slowed down. Impossible.
“Go outside,” he ordered. “And close the door.”
“I’m not leaving you!”
“So stand there for one minute and come back in.”
“Why?”
“A theory,” he growled, strengthening his charm to compensate for the fact that hers had fallen in her anger and shock.
She cast the tempus again. Still nine ‘til. “I’m coming back,” she said firmly before she took a step outside.
He chanced a glance over his shoulder to see the door slam shut. The demons did not like that development in the very least. They rushed him, trying to fly through him and sap his energy but he was having none of it. He cast a more solid circle and closed his eyes in concentration. He’d summoned the power before but he didn’t know if he could again. The first time he’d used it was a very vague memory and he called on it now.
“Now Draco,” Lucius said in his curt instructional manner. “What do you know of demons?”
Seven year old Draco looked at him with wide eyes. “They’re bad! They try to suck your life out.”
“Very good,” Lucius purred, making Draco preen under the praise. “But they have another use. They can give you power… if you can control them.”
“How father?”
Lucius presented Draco with his cane; let him pull the familiar eighteen inch elm wand out of it. The core, dragon heartstring, vibrated inside, signifying that it recognized him. Then he showed his son the movements to enslave a demon. As a precaution, he also showed him a way to hold them off for long periods of time. Then, with a calculating look in his eyes, he sent his only son, merely seven years old, into a house more haunted than the shrieking shack was rumored to be.
The demons swarmed him, yearning for innocent blood. He was terrified but he fought it back, knowing that was what they wanted. Then, he started casting. He thought nothing of underage magic. His father had begun teaching him how to wield a wand since he’d uttered his first word, claiming that his baby magic was much too volatile to be allowed to continue on unchecked. Unfortunately, Lucius Malfoy’s idea of training was much darker than bubble charms and color changing spells.
At first, the spell went off without a hitch. They started to bow to his will, but he didn’t account for their conniving. They tricked him and he lowered the spell too soon, screaming when they swarmed him. The other spell, the protection spell, was his only hope. He yelled it at the top of his lungs. Fear and adrenaline mixed to create the strongest shield anyone had ever seen. Unfortunately, he never saw it because he was unconscious.
He opened his eyes to see the demons about to break through the containment spell. The fear and the adrenaline from long ago coupled with now raced through him. But there was something else as well. Determination. Granger was still in danger. She’d been adamant about returning. He needed to stay strong… for her. He raised his own 10” hawthorn, the one Potter insisted he have back, and screamed the spell. He felt the unicorn hair core heat up, nearly burning his hand as the spell burst through it. The darkness closed in on it but he refused to give up. He would not succumb. Not this time. He was a man now and he was bloody well going to prove it.

AN: Whoo! It's my Friday. I got so excited that I posted this on the wrong sorry. My bad. *blushes* Anyway, thanks to everyone who reviewed. Reviews keep the demons away. ;) Keep them coming and let me know how I'm doing. Until next time... love you guys!
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Halloween Holiday