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Draco's Camera	By : bettysilks Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 37709 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 9
Disclaimer: I don't own HP nor am I profiting from it in any way.

Chapter List
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It was hard to get away. She managed in the end, but it had been really difficult. They hadn't wanted to leave her alone. Not for a minute. And Ginny, Oh Ginny, that little... thing hadn't wanted to let them. She was all over Harry like a second skin and breathing persuasions down his neck. Ugh, Hermione was sick of it, especially because it was starting to affect her own life. She could care less if Harry and Ron let some overgrown leprechaun control them but she didn't reside under anyones thumb- uhm, other than Draco's but that was only when she felt like it, thank you very much.

Anyway, she had insisted that she just needed to take a long, hot bath. She'd said the water would help her think, help her cope with the fact that she could very well be prosecuted for killing Death Eater- murderers and rapists. It was all so surreal though. So surreal that it wasn't even foremost in her mind. Draco was. Malfoy was, she corrected herself. Malfoy.

She needed time alone to think about what he had said, to figure out where it had all come from. Because lord knew it wasn't like that in the beginning. He hadn't been so fucking forgiving in the beginning. He'd wanted to rip her to shreds, was only too glad to make her suffer. Where had the turning point been? When had he decided to convince himself he would be able to let it all go?

Hermione shook her head as she slid down into the lukewarm water. It was just north of her body temp. Perfect because she took enough hot showers in one week to last another person their entire lifetime. Lukewarm was good.

She reached over and plucked the camera off a folded towel on the side of the tub.

"Conforto." she muttered, pointing her wand at it.

She had to go through a number of the most obscure spells to find the one that would allow the muggle camcorder to work with Hogwarts magic without frying itself into a heap of plastic and metal. If she who was muggleborn and also practically lived in the library needed days for the task she could only imagine how long it had taken him. He had been dealing with the unknown and had had to go against his habit of doing the bare minimum when it came to academic pursuits. She was actually quite impressed with his skill and diligence- which was a dumb thing to be! Being impressed with Malfoys skill at the obscure would lead straight to hell. Malfoy was not to be admired. The scoundrel, he was meant to be loathed.

Hermione sucked her teeth, frustrated at her own thoughts. She flipped the camera open rather angrily and jammed her thumb into the button that would get it to play. The first thing she saw was her own pasty face. The image sort of startled her. She had expected it but she had never realized how... unpalatable she looked while taking her penance. She was pale and her eyes held a perpetual sadness. Hermione looked away from the screen, turning her gaze down to the water. She set the camera back on the cushion provided by her towel. Leaned back and just listened instead of looking.

"What's your name?" she heard him asking, making it clear who he was about to violate and break.

She'd answered with some difficulty and he'd asked her what she wanted him to do to her. It wasn't hard to remember what had been going through her mind at that exact moment. What had she wanted him to do? She'd wanted him to do everything. Give her pain. Take it away. Punish and forgive. Instead, she'd only told him that she wanted him to fuck her, which was just as much of a punishment. It made her a whore, which was a fate a killer like herself deserved to suffer.

Her mind drifted away from the camera and she thought about the war. She usually saved that punishment for when she was with him. It fit. Think about the past and hate herself while he abused her body. It was almost like he took the self-loathing and guilt out with every little bit of pain he inflicted.

But the war, the war had been especially hard for her. From the begining she'd been hesitant about it. She hadn't really wanted the three of them to go traipsing off to a damn forest to look for horcruxes and things they weren't even sure could save them. Hogwarts was like a dream to her, the muggleborn. Everyone around her seemed to have this inherent belief that it was safe and no one seemed that much in a tizzy over Voldemort. Granted, Harry and Dumbledore were, but at that time she wasn't so fanatical about Dumbledore as others were. And Harry, God Harry was only a boy. She hadn't wanted to leave the widely accepted safety of school, an institution no matter who headed it up. That was that. She just hand't really wanted to leave but she trusted Dumbledore to an extent. She knew he was right when he said they needed to fight and she was all for it when she thought it was all about stunning people and sending them to Azkaban where she wouldn't have to see or hear from them ever again. She was all for it before he started talking about destroying pieces of souls and... and killing. Because, fuck, she was a Christian and a muggle and religion had been around for thousands of years and religion said not to fuck with souls and witchcraft and shit. Call her a hypocrite but magic was ok when all it did was start tiny fires that she could carry in a jar without burning her hands or when it made her teeth look better. It wasn't ok when it blew out all of the foundations she'd grown up with since she before she knew about wands and Hogwarts. The war had started to scare the shit out of her when all of a sudden it was about a mother-fucker being immortal and not the son of God. What the fuck was that shit? Impossible. Just impossible.

Hermione shook her head. Yeah, that thinking got her really far. As far as Godric's Hollow where that crazed fucking animal had walked, talked, lured her and Harry like a fucking human being. As far as the Malfoy drawing room where she was tortured with pain that could only come straight from the gates of hell. Then, she'd seen Him and- Almighty Father- she'd known. Here was the devil and they were fighting a real threat. They, the kids not even done with their little fairy, potions, charms-smarms magical education were fighting the devil. She could barely wrap her head around it all at the time. Still could't. Months after the war she still couldn't. But her life had been on the line and people she'd known were dead. She caught on real quick. She mustered up all of her hate and fear and casted killing curses like they were her bread and butter. She started to understand the hate bubbling under Harry's skin, the righteous satisfaction Ron felt every time one of those fuckers who could have taken another member of his family went down. So no more were the lectures she gave out about God, and religion and Christian morals. Gone was the high and mighty Hermione. Welcomed was the down and dirty killer, soldier. She embraced that grittiness as a second persona during the war.

She was Kali when she fought.

Kill.

Kill.

Kill.

Gorged herself on blood. She was unstoppable. That was how and why she had killed his parents. She was bloodlust personified when she came across them. Lucius had dropped his wand almost instantaneously and hid his wife behind his back. Said words she couldn't hear over the blood rushing in her ears. She could only see him as he had been in her fifth year, in the Ministry, with all of that greed and ill intent defining him. That man had sickened her. Her eyes had flickered to his wife and she saw a bitch watching aloofly while a child writhed in pain on the floor of her house. Fucking animals, those people were and she had disarmed the man. Then the woman. Watched them pant on the cold wet grass, still not puttingup any kind of fight. She'd stepped on their chests in turn, telling them exactly how their very existences had offended her. When she was sure she saw realization flicker in their respective faces she extinguished the forces keeping them capable of such thought and reasoning.

And that was that. Two more people- monsters- who had gotten their just rewards. Two more people who had wronged her, who had shirked their responsibilites to human kind were no longer a part of human kind. Death served them right.

Then, all was quiet. She'd looked around and no attack came. Everyone, every person, was still- just trying to catch their breath after three of the hardest years of their lives. She'd taken her first deep breath in years and looked at the stupid piece of wood, of God's earth in her hand. Felt all of the lives she had taken. It had hurt in that moment. She had no right to feel that pain but it had hurt her to know all that she had taken without rights. She was so far in the wrong that she could never ever get back to God. Selfishly, she mourned that loss. Her soul was as damned as the rest of them. She should not have felt her murderous self justified enough to bemoan her fall from grace, but she did and oh how she wanted it back, no matter how right it was that she suffer for doing murder.

Thou shalt not kill, God said.

Well, she had.

And, she had decided in that moment to make amends and put herself through the ringer to obtain some sliver of forgiveness. Anything. The smallest amount would do. She could withstand the fire and brimstone she was sure to meet in the afterlife if she had someones meager forgiveness to hold to. That someone had come barreling around the corner of the castle milliseconds after she'd chosen her fate. Malfoy had fallen over the bodies of his parents, pulling them up and trying in vain to reanimate them. Hermione had watched, feeling so so bad.

All her fault.

He had been a child then like she had been before she'd seen the reality of the war. She had sworn to take vengeance on Death Eaters for assisting in the destruction of childhood. She had just destroyed his childhood in a matter of minutes. Malfoy hadn't ever understood what he had been doing. The only thing that had gotten through to him was his own fear and ignorance. He had been a child when he'd let Them into Hogwarts, a child when he'd attacked Harry after Harry had saved him and his friend. But a child he was no longer because she had killed his parents.

Looking at him then she'd made a second decision. He would be the one to punish her and collect on her pain until it added up to his grief.

"Malfoy," she said. "I killed them."

He'd looked up, big gray eyes barely visible in the paleness of his face. He hadn't seen her there, over their

bodies. His initial reaction had been disbelief. She'd made it clear to him and he attacked. Wrapped his big hands around her neck and squeezed.

Squeezed.

Squeezed.

Until she went out cold and he came back to his senses.

"Granger, please. Tell me right now you didn't. How could you do this? How could you do this?"

He had been whispering when she came to, stroking the livid red marks on her neck as his tears dribbled from his chin to her cheeks.

A month after that they'd come back to school and she'd sent him a very long note. He could take as much as he wanted from her. In any way. Take until he was satisfied. Until he could live knowing that she still did, if that was even possible. The note he sent back said cryptically that he'd take but he'd appreciate it very much if she understood that it was not because he needed to but because she needed him to. At the time she'd accepted his acquiescence and brushed the rest off as his pureblood pretentiousness refusing to seem like he was doing anything on her terms.

Months after that she was wiser and she realized Draco Malfoy had overcome his pain and loss to do her a favor and help her with hers. He was finally a man, and a good man at that. The abuse was against his nature. He'd seen his own mother and his friends endure it and had no desire to inflict it upon any woman, but it was the only way he could completely control her, bring her down to her basest form, and take her responsibility from her. He did it for her, to hurt her until she felt she could forgive herself, until she understood that the forgiveness had to come from her.

Hermione choked on her own tears as that epiphany hit her. She'd been pondering the Malfoy situation for the better part of an hour and that last thought had hit her hard.

The forgiveness had to come from her. No one else could possibly give her what she was asking. She had to come to terms with it.

She sat up, cold water stirring around her, tears shifting direction from back towards her ears to down her cheeks. Stupid that a realization like that would just come to her out of the blue like it had. She thought of everything she could to discount it. So what if she forgave herself? She wasn't God. Her forgiveness would do nothing but allow her to give up her penance and lead a debauched life. Killers like her shouldn't allow themselves to live indulgently. Suffering should be their only reward.

She would think herself into circles if she went any further. She needed... as much as it scared her to admit this to herself, she needed Draco. He'd become her personal reckoner. No decision she made about her penance was made without him.

Hermione climbed out of her bath, pulled the plug on it and belatedly remembered to shut off the camcorder and take it with her. She stuffed it into the satchel that she'd used for her towel and change of clothes. Spelled her name into her uniform and threw the pieces down the shute to the laundry. Pulled on her corduroy khaki's and a safe white tee shirt. Put a drab gray sweater over that. Her hair would dry better on its own. Ok, done. Grabbing the bag, she nearly sprinted out of the prefects bathroom and down the hall. She thought about Draco and whispered to her wand.

"Point me."

The wood spun in her palm and went left. She stepped onto the staircase and followed her wand out onto the grounds. It led her to the quiddditch pitch. She spotted Draco right away, flying drunkenly around the sky above the field. Narrowing her eyes shrewdly, she contemplated summoning his ridiculous arse- broom be damned. But she saw Harry and Ron and them- them being Ginny- sitting in the stands watching the Slytherin prince risk his neck in the literal way.

"Bugger." she muttered, stepping into the shadow of an entryway so she wouldn't be seen.

No way she could talk to Draco in front of them. No way she could stomach the newly formed trio for as long as it took Draco to ground himself. She looked around for another place to wait and a stroke of brilliance hit her. After checking for nosybodies she ducked into the Slytherin locker rooms. Disillusioned herself and sat on the ground in front of Draco's locker, thinking about what she'd say to him.

He didn't make her wait long. He stumbled into the locker room and landed flat on his face. Ever cautious, Hermione took her time getting over to him. She locked the door to the room before pulling his wand up into her hand and nudging him onto his back with the toe of her trainer. He was completely out of it, eyes unfocused and breathing slowly. Frowning, she kneeled down at his side and took his chin in her hand. Looked closer. His pupils were fully dilated and circled in green and yellow rings. Her lips pursed almost automatically.

"Oy, Druggie!" she hissed, slapping his cheek one time good and hard.

He only groaned and she proceeded to watch his eyes roll back in his head.
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Draco's Camera