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They All Taste the Same	By : pomerann Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 22353 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. All characters, concepts and places in the Harry Potter world belong to J.K. Rowling. i make no profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
Chapter notes:

Thanks to all the reviewers, you've inspired me to continue… both endings! (see what happens when you review? Sometimes authors listen! :) Also, a note to everyone on fanfiction and adultfanfiction, I don't respond to reviewers because there is no mechanism to do it on a review by review basis like there is on Granger Enchanted or Hawthorne and Vine. But know that I love the reviews, read every single one, and do take them into consideration when I write. Thank you all!

And a big thanks to MargotLeFaye, who brainstormed with me and helped me flesh out what I hope will be a good continuation to the original chapters.

And to all those who thought the alternate ending was too (cringe!) Twilightish, all I have to say to that is: Challenge accepted!

That being said, consider yourselves warned. I'm not taking responsibility for tears shed over characters that are offed. Mwah hah hah!

Chapter 5 – Alternate ending

Harry was sitting at the kitchen table, staring at the unrolled parchment laid out before him. It was filled with Hermione’s tiny neat handwriting.

Life, as he knew it, had ceased to exist.

Two days ago, a Patronus that they had never seen before had arrived, and Hermione’s voice had spoken through it, announcing that she was fine and would be back soon. As if the shock, apprehensive relief and incredulity that they had all felt weren’t enough, the Patronus continued to speak and relayed that Padma was a traitor and that more would be explained later by owl.

While the rest of them were at a loss for words, Ron cleverly shot off his Patronus in answer, asking who Hermione had turned into the first time she had taken Polyjuice potion. Harry smiled grimly at the trick question. Whoever was on the other end would assume it was a human that she had turned into.

Much as they wanted to, none of them had believed that this false Patronus could really be Hermione’s. Surely it was a ploy by the Death Eaters. Either they had the wrong information about the form Hermione’s Patronus would take, or Hermione had lied, successfully fooling them under whatever means they had used to extract the information from her.

To their shock, the silvery fox had reappeared with the correct answer and Hermione’s voice reiterated that she would explain her changed Patronus soon, that its original form was an otter, and again, not to worry, she was fine.

She had not used her trigger word, which would have indicated that she was being coerced, but Harry still didn’t like it. Padma, who had also gone missing, was now a traitor? And what more would Hermione have to explain? Why the changed Patronus?

This morning, her letter arrived by owl.

He could still see the words “Draco Malfoy” and “vampire” amongst the other words in her letter. They weren’t written any differently and were crammed in with everything else that she had committed to the parchment, but they might as well have been emblazoned in a neon color.

“Harry,” said Lupin.

He felt like he was in a bizarre dream. It just couldn’t possibly be true. He would have been more believing if Hermione had died than if she had—

“Harry,” Lupin’s voice cut through Harry’s reverie. “What are you thinking?”

He looked up startled, having completely forgotten that he was sitting in the kitchen with two other people. “I think… I think this is rubbish. It can’t be true.”

“It doesn’t sound like her,” Ron said, shaking his head. “Something’s wrong.”

Lupin drummed his fingers on the wooden table, clearly deep in thought. Harry and Ron went back to staring at the dreaded parchment. Suddenly, Lupin rapped his knuckles on the tabletop startling Harry and Ron.

“Do we agree that it is Hermione communicating with us? After all, she answered the question. I certainly wasn’t aware that she had turned into Millicent Bulstrode’s cat.”

They remained silent, and Lupin took this as a sign to continue. “We know she hadn’t been coerced in any way then, and she said that she would explain more later.” Lupin gestured to the parchment. “We could check the parchment to see that it was indeed written by her hand, but I think neither of you doubt that it was indeed she who wrote it.”

Ron opened his mouth to protest, but Lupin held up his finger. “You are going to say that Padma would have alerted them to our codes. But notice that Hermione had already told us that Padma was the one who betrayed her when she sent the Patronus." He paused, stroked his stubble, and then added, "I don’t think anyone could control Hermione effectively; she’s been able to throw off the Imperius curse for some time now. And even if she was coerced in some way, she would not have told us of Padma’s betrayal. Padma could have been a spy for Voldemort, but Hermione compromised her as soon as she was able to communicate with us.”

“But how would they know that Hermione had informed us?” Ron countered.

“She escaped, didn’t she? Or rather, she and Malfoy did. Naturally, the Death Eaters would suspect that she told us.”

“So Padma’s a Death Eater now?” Ron said with disbelief. “I’d sooner believe that Hermione was a vampire.”

“She’s not been herself lately,” Harry said grudgingly.

“That’s an understatement,” Ron muttered. “She made Luna look sane.”

The three sat in thought.

"Do you think..." Ron began, "that she wanted revenge?"

“I guess we’ll find out if we... meet her in battle,” Lupin said warily.

“Revenge is one thing,” Harry protested. "She would never be a Death Eater!"

“She betrayed Hermione to torture and death,” Lupin countered. “Who’s to say what she is capable of now?”

Harry watched Ron, whose nostrils were flaring. “Nothing makes sense. And why would Malfoy be a vampire?”

Lupin shrugged. “Why would I be a werewolf? Bad luck, I suppose. Or…” he raised his eyebrows and shifted his gaze between Harry and Ron, “punishment?”

Ron shook his head in denial. “This whole situation is fucked up. Malfoy helping her escape? Malfoy leaving his Death Eater buddies?”

Lupin raised an eyebrow. “That’s the part of her letter which should be the least surprising. You know how the Malfoys were punished after the incident at the Department of Mysteries; the situation that Draco was put in sixth year.”

Ron crossed his arms in front of him and looked sullenly up at Lupin. “I don’t bloody care. They deserved what they got.”

Lupin continued, “Deserving or no, it coincides perfectly with what Hermione has been telling us about Draco all along.”

Harry had been eyeing the exchange, saying nothing. Finally, he spoke. “Professor Lupin?”

Lupin’s eyes shifted to Harry’s. “Harry, you don’t have to call me that.”

“Force of habit,” Harry answered. “Assuming that everything in this letter is true, Hermione chose to become a vampire.”

Lupin nodded slowly, looking at Harry expectantly.

He took a deep breath, and continued. “Turning into a vampire… it’s not something that Hermione would willingly do. To feed off of people? And to…” he felt his face go hot, and wasn’t sure how to continue. The mere thought of Hermione participating in what little else he’d heard of vampire behaviour was unthinkable. He decided not to finish his sentence. “She even gets depressed when her battle plans end up killing Death Eaters. Remember the fake prisoner exchange? That was our deadliest operation to date. She was moping around for days after that."

"It wasn't just Death Eaters killed then," Lupin admonished him.

"I just… I just can’t believe that she would choose this path willingly. It’s not like her,” he said, echoing Ron’s words.

“Isn’t it, though?” Lupin said, looking back and forth between Harry and Ron. “She says that because of her transformation, we’ll be able to end the war soon. She believes she sacrificed her human life to defeat Voldemort once and for all. Something that any of us would do in a heartbeat.”

Harry scratched the table and thought. Would he have done the same in her stead? If he truly believed that it would work?

Absolutely.

Ron asked belligerently, “It’s one thing to sacrifice your life, and another to become a vampire. How does her becoming a vampire give us a victory?”

Professor Lupin sat back in his chair and scratched the stubble on his chin again. “I don’t know. But this is Hermione.”

Harry looked down at the cuff of his sleeve. He had been steadily pulling a loose thread out of his sweater. “Yeah,” he chuckled mirthlessly, “she tends to know what she’s talking about.”

“But what happened to her otter?” Ron asked, an extremely sullen look on his face.

Lupin answered hesitantly. “An emotional event or similar upheaval can cause one’s Patronus to change. It’s likely that her transformation to a vampire is the reason…”

Lupin’s voice trailed off. He was beating around the bush. Harry knew why her Patronus had changed; it was obvious. Tonks’s Patronus had changed ever since she had –

“It’s Malfoy’s,” Harry said emotionlessly. “She’s in love with him.”

Ron’s head snapped up in disbelief. “What? But - no! How can that be?”

Harry sighed and looked to Lupin, who nodded in agreement. “I don’t know, Ron. But I’m sure that it is.”

“Well, then, he must have given her Amortentia or something, right?” Ron gave Lupin a pleading look, wanting him to confirm his thoughts. “Right?”

Lupin slowly shook his head. “A potion wouldn’t affect her Patronus.”

Ron ran his hands through his hair, trying to voice the numerous thoughts and objections running around in his head. “But how – She can’t possibly – This is just insane! Maybe it’s someone else’s? Why would Malfoy’s Patronus be a fox?”

Lupin looked up at the ceiling in thought. “Oh, I don’t know… it seems to fit, doesn’t it? Sly, cunning-”

Ron gritted his teeth and cut him off. “Back-stabbing, bottom-feeding, carcass-eating…”

“Professor Lupin,” Harry continued, amidst Ron’s grumbling. “It’s a lot to swallow. I don’t… I don’t quite know if I can believe all of this. I want to – I need to see her.”

“Well,” Lupin answered. “We’ll see her soon enough.”

They all sat in thought for a few more minutes.

“Silver,” Lupin said, breaking the tense silence.

Harry and Ron looked up, confused.

“It weakens vampires and causes them acute pain, deteriorating them physically in the process.” Lupin was speaking as if addressing a classroom of students. “We should see if we can alter the standard binding spells to include a portion of silver in the ropes. A variation on binding charms shouldn’t be difficult to do.”

Ron cried out, offended. “I’m not going to hurt her!”

Lupin raised his eyebrows. “What will you do if she tries to feed from you?”

"But..." Harry said, aghast, “But it’s Hermione!”

Oooooooooooooooooooooooo

Draco was right. Words couldn’t describe it. She felt a mix of awe-inspired wonderment and tranquility. The dark, desolate landscape, the complete isolation, and the absolute beauty; Hermione felt at peace. She shifted against the rock that she was leaning on and dug her toes into the soft, grey dust of the moon’s surface. It was coarser than sand and crunched under her feet.

Draco’s pinky finger linked into hers, and she squeezed it lightly.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” she whispered. Her voice was the only sound.

“Anything,” he answered and rested his chin on the top of her head.

She looked up at the bright blue hemisphere covered with swirls of white in the middle their dark black horizon. Her lips parted in amazement. She felt almost god-like, and the thought sobered her. This much power couldn’t be good. There were many who had been corrupted from the lure of Voldemort’s knowledge and how he seemed to conquer death. Her thoughts drew her gaze down to the Hufflepuff cup laying in the dust.

Draco noticed the direction of her glance. “What are you going to do with that… thing? I know you can’t tell me what it is, but I can feel the evil pulsing from it. It…” His voice cracked slightly. “It makes me think things. I don’t want to be near it.” He paused, and then added, “I don’t want it near you, either.”

She delicately wrapped her hands around the stem of the cup and raised it to her eye level, in line with the earth, blocking her view of Europe and Africa.

“I thought I’d need Harry and Ron to destroy it. We used a summoning circle for the last one; it was complicated and exhausting.” She peered at the cup, gleaming in the light reflected from earth. “I wonder...”

She concentrated her power on the cup, on the piece of soul within the cup. She probed with her mind, prodding Voldemort's presence, and gasped as the evil within it reached out to her.

“Put it down,” Draco said, his voice trembling with half-concealed fear.

“Wait.”

Her will was stronger. This was a broken piece, a shard, nothing more. She felt herself surrounding it. It had nowhere to go. It was trapped. It had already confined itself to this object long ago. She focused on the soul, encasing it, surrounding it with her presence, and squeezed. It felt the threat. But after failing to fight back successfully, it began to panic. She narrowed its space, continuing to squeeze it with her will, with her magic. It tried to escape, but it couldn’t, since there was nowhere for it to go. Her arms began shaking as she pushed against it, and she felt sweat break out across her forehead.

“Hermione…” Draco said, sounding worried.

But she didn’t dare stop. She pressed it, pushed against it. It had no room. It was caving in on itself. Suddenly, there was a faint scream and it ceased to exist. The cup blackened and crumpled in on itself as if it was a burnt piece of paper. Panting, she dropped it. It fell to the dust with an unceremonious thud.

“It’s destroyed,” she said. Her voice lifted in surprise at her display of power.

She hadn’t realized how on edge Draco had been since they had broken into Gringotts until she felt his body relax next to hers.

“It doesn’t affect you?” he asked, still staring at the blackened remains.

“Not that much.”

Draco shuddered and then leaned back against the rock they were sitting against. “Are there any more of those?”

“Unbreakable Vow,” she said, tonelessly.

Draco lifted an eyebrow and looked down at her. “I wonder if that would still be effective, now that you’re a vampire.”

“We’ll find someone else to be your Pygmy Puff, thanks.”

Draco’s chuckle vibrated from his chest, and she nuzzled into him. Their pale skin was highlighted by a bluish-white glow. Turning up to Draco, she studied him as he gazed at the view. The contours of his nose and the hardness of his jaw, framed by his blond hair, which was luminescent from the lighting, made him look ethereal. As he noticed her staring at him, he turned to face her. His eyes glittered silver-white and became slightly hooded as they, in turn, gazed at her. As he studied her, his mouth slid into a small and close-lipped smile that looked utterly content. She leaned her head on his shoulder again, and he wrapped his arm around her, drawing her into his bare chest. The only sound was a soft growling.

They turned back; their eyes watched the dark line, marking the divide between night and day as it moved across the continents with the earth’s slow rotation. Squinting, she could see the small triangle of the British Isles just to the left of a cloud swirl. In a few hours, the black shadow would engulf England, and they could go back to meet with Harry and Ron.

“I wonder what they’re thinking right now,” she pondered out loud.

“Who? Scar-head and Weasel?” Draco asked, seeming to know exactly what was bothering her.

Hermione looked up to see him smirking. “Is that what you call them?”

“No. Those are simply the names appropriate for your ears.”

Her eyes flashed with anger and his grin widened at her reaction.

“Appropriate?” Her tone was half amused, half annoyed.

“Oh, come on. How many choice four letter words do you think are coming out of their mouths right now?”

She turned to gaze at the earth again, worried. “Do you think they’re mad at me?”

Draco’s eyebrows rose. “Not at all. It’s me they’ll want to kill.”

“But you didn’t want—” she protested.

He snorted, cutting her off. “They won’t believe you.”

She drew her legs in and wrapped her arms around them, setting her chin on her knees. “I guess not.”

They sat in silence a bit more. He touched his finger to the base of her spine, and barely grazing her skin, traced the line of her backbone. Goosebumps spread all over her body and he smiled as she arched her back and let out a soft yelp.

“Tell me something, Hermione.”

“Mmm?” Smiling, she turned to face him, resting her cheek on her knees.

“How did they catch you? You’d evaded capture for so long, you must have been having a really off day.”

Her smile immediately fell.

“Hey,” he said, stroking her hair. “I didn’t mean…”

“No, it’s okay. It’s just… it was Padma.”

“Padma?” he said, with an odd look on his face.

She nodded. “I never saw it coming. I had no reason to think that she would turn on us. I mean, she was never the same since Parvati was killed, but I never would have thought...” Draco cupped her face in his hand and lightly stroked her cheek with his thumb. She smiled, despite herself. “She never would betray us if she were in her right mind. At least... I would hope not.”

“She wasn’t.”

Hermione’s eyes snapped to his. “You saw her?”

He looked at her for a few seconds, opened his mouth slightly, and then shut it again. She saw his Adam’s apple move as he swallowed. “I killed her.”

She felt her stomach knot, but she didn’t move.

He looked down, wary of meeting her eyes, and continued hurriedly. “They brought her to me the night before they brought you… for execution. She looked as if she had been tortured briefly, but I guess they saw that she was unable to understand what they wanted, let alone answer their questions.” He took a breath and looked up at Hermione, searchingly. “She just stood there, she didn’t say anything. She seemed to welcome death… smiling when she saw my fangs. I didn’t…” he paused. “It wasn’t painful for her.”

Hermione didn’t say anything. Part of her was relieved, knowing that it was a kind of insanity that had claimed Padma towards the end of her life and not a change of heart that caused her betrayal. But mostly, she was just sad, knowing that her friend had died. She would tell Harry and Ron. Both of the Patil women had been incredible fighters. They deserved to be honored in death.

Draco laced his fingers into her hair. He was still stroking her cheekbone with his other hand.

Hermione flicked her eyes to his. He killed Padma. And how many others? What else had he been doing for them? She turned away, not wanting to look at him anymore, and exhaled in disgust. She had been so naïve. Why should she be surprised? Why else would she have been brought to him if he wasn’t killing and torturing for them? Distracted by their happy reunion, the wondrous sights, and her seemingly limitless power, she had avoided it—this role he had been playing for the Death Eaters.

She had been deluding herself.

“Hermione?” she heard Draco’s voice, soft and cautious. His thumb now rested on her temple, and pressed down slightly. Firmly, she removed his hand, not wanting him to touch her anymore, and lifted her eyes to meet his. They looked pained.

“How could you…” her voice trembled with anger. “How many people have you killed?”

His nostrils flared as he exhaled. “I don’t know.”

“That many?” she said, nearly shaking.

He nodded, wordlessly, his eyes never leaving hers.

“I’m a vampire. I feed. They’d be killed anyway, Hermione.”

“But you said that we could live off of animals.”

“We can. It’s enough to survive, but... the blood won’t sate you. Eventually you’ll go mad and feed from humans whether you want to or not. It’s better to-” She saw a muscle twitch in his jaw. “It’s better to stay in control, and human blood helps with that. At least then you can choose who you’re feeding from.”

Hermione stood up and turned on him with a disgusted look on her face. “So what have you been doing for them all this time?”

His gaze didn’t waver, and he paused before answering. “You know what I’ve been doing.”

She felt bile rise in her throat.

“Who?” She didn’t want to know, but she couldn’t stop herself from asking.

He took a deep breath; there was a resigned look on his face. “Wizards who couldn’t be Imperiused, Muggles, the occasional Order member, others who tried to resist, a few Death Eaters, some Muggleborns…” His voice trailed off.

“Dean Thomas? Sturgis Podmore?” she said accusingly. They had gone missing a while back.

He nodded.

“Ginny?” she said in a choked voice.

They stared at each other. And she watched him. Hoping, praying… and after what seemed like an eternity, he gave a very small nod of his head in the affirmative.

“Aaaaaah!” she shrieked into the empty blackness, and then she rounded on him, her voice cold. “Did you torture them, too?”

He stood up and glared down at her, hurt and angry. “Of course not!” He paused and looked to the side. “Not intentionally, anyway. I try to… make it quick and painless - as much as I’m able. Some had been tortured so badly that they were begging for death.”

“So you’re a merciful murderer?” she retorted bitterly.

He looked as if she had slapped him, and she stood up and raised her voice, spurred on by his shock and hurt.

“You were never able to kill anyone when you were human! Ever! Not even while fighting!”

She couldn’t believe the level of his descent into depravity, and it both infuriated her and caused her to despair. She felt like he was slipping away from her. That he wasn’t the person she’d thought he was.

“What happened to you?” she said, choking back an angry sob. She still loved him; she couldn’t help it.

He looked out at the earth again. The shadow had almost engulfed England. “Hunger. It’s hard to control.”

“That’s it? Hunger?” Her voice sounded hollow.

He turned to her and she was taken aback by the sadness in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Hermione,” he said tenderly.

“It’s not me you need to apologize to,” she ground out.

“But it is. I never should have let you…” He clenched his jaw. “I should have… I don’t know. I should have left and then found a way to get you out. Anything else.” He turned to her, with a pleading expression on his face. “Don’t you see, Hermione? I know what I am. I’ve accepted it. I don’t go out looking to kill people, but this is what I am. And now…” His eyes bored into hers. “This is what you are. This is what you have to accept.”

She shook her head dismissively. “But surely you can—”

“Do you remember feeding from Goyle?”

Her eyes widened in surprise. That night was a blur of images and sensations. She remembered the content and sated feeling afterwards, but before then... “But that was Goyle! If it was someone else, I wouldn’t have—”

He was shaking his head.

“Stop it! There’s no way that I would hurt—”

“You don’t understand. You can barely remember attacking Goyle. If Potter would have walked in that room, he would have met the same fate. That’s what it’s like at the height of blood lust. You’re reduced to your basest desires.”

“Eating and fucking,” she answered tonelessly.

“Do you know what else you did to Goyle?”

She felt all the color drain from her face. “No,” she whispered, knowing that he was probably right. Gods! She could barely remember!

“Yes,” he said and he held her face in his hands. “Hermione, I love you. You know that.”

Weakly, she nodded and he slid his hands down the smooth skin of her neck, past her bare shoulders, and finally rested them on her upper arms.

“And look what I did to you,” Draco continued. She looked up at him, partly in shock from her revelation. He leaned forward and said slowly, “After I had just fed.”

“But—” she said, feeling defeated.

“Do you think that you can control your hunger better than me? Like how that…” his eyes darkened, “thing affected me more than it did you?”

“I… I just can’t imagine myself attacking Harry or Ron. Do you think it’s possible… that I have more control?” She could hear the childish hope in her voice, and cringed.

“Anything is possible, Hermione. But I wouldn’t count on it.” He turned his eyes to the slowly rotating planet on their horizon, and hers followed. “We can go back now.”

She nodded.

“We’ll have to feed before seeing them.”

“Okay.”

“Humans, Hermione.”

At this, her eyes flashed in protest, but before she could retort, he Disapparated them both.

Chapter end notes:

So a question to all the readers: I've continued the alternate ending - where Hermione is a vampire, and the original ending - where she remains human. I'll label each chapter with alternate/original, so that it won't be confusing, like I did for this chapter.

Anyway, I'm trying to decide whether to post the chapters in series (first do the alternate ending, complete it, then go on to the original ending) or in parallel (a chapter from the alternate, a chapter from the original, and so on). My thought was that it might be interesting to see how both stories progress, and how they contrast as the results of Hermione's decision play out, and that it would be better to do so in parallel.

But when trying to decide on how to break up the chapters, I started wondering if it might be too jarring that way. Too confusing. Would it disrupt the flow of the story?

What do you guys think? Parallel? In series? Why?
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They All Taste the Same