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Beauty and the Beast	By : Nocturne Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 14407 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: All characters belong to JK Rowling. I do not own the Harry Potter fandom, nor do I make any money from this fanfiction.

Chapter List
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- 6
Hermione fell someone tug her by the hair, out of the pensieve and onto the floor. She braced herself for the fall but felt an arm swoop in before the impact. Her eyes fluttered open, soaked from the potion, along with her hair, and saw the man of the hour.
“I know who you are,” she said, having seen his true reflection in the pensieve, just as his memory displayed.
His mask was no more. She saw his face, and although it was meant to terrify her, Hermione wasn’t scared. She’d never been scared of him – of Draco Malfoy.
“I – I thought you were dead,” breathed the young woman, feeling his warm breath on her neck. “They said you were killed in Moscow.”
“They were wrong,” he growled, staring at her with those same, animalistic eyes. “And you will pay for intruding in my personal space.”
“Why?” she asked, at a loss. “I can take you to the Ministry. You can bring those bastards to justice.”
“Justice?” repeated Draco. “The same justice they gave me? Ha.”
“No,” Hermione answered calmly, realizing he was naked, on the floor, inches away from her as she lay there. She cupped his face and watched him recoil. “Stop. Let me help.”
Draco paused for a moment. “There’s nothing you can do. All they’ll do is send me to Azkaban. I’m a war criminal.” He was right. That’s exactly what they would do, regardless of what had happened to him. “I’d rather stay here, alone.”
“That’s not true,” she deduced, feeling her wet hair dampen the fabric of her dress. “If you want to be alone, why won’t you let me leave?”
There was a moment of silence, in which Hermione figured she’d gotten through to him, but Draco released her, plopping her on her feet. “You want to leave?” he asked. “Go. Never come back.”
“Wait!” she cried, grabbing him by the shoulder as he turned for the door. “I want to help you. Please.”
“How?” he growled, jerking away. “There is nothing you can do for me.”
“I’ll find a way,” she assured him. “I promise.”
Draco narrowed his eyes. “Didn’t you pay attention? It’s forever. There is no reversal.”
Hermione didn’t know what to do or say. She wanted to help him more than anything, for reasons unknown. “Join me at the Ministry. We’ll strip those bastards of their titles, and make sure they are incapable of inflicting torture on anyone else.”
“I am not leaving this place,” he said defiantly. “Not like this.” There was something in his voice that made her heart break. “You said it yourself, Granger. I’m a mutant.”
She stood there, slapped in the face by her own words, and watched as he slipped into the shadows. Hermione felt defeated, more defeated than any other time in her life.
“Draco?” she asked, calling his name for the first time. “What happened to Nott, and all the others?”
He was by the window, peering outside into the darkness. “Part of my curse is uncontrollable rage.” He faced her. “I attacked them.”
Hermione realized then, that he was still responsible for murder – the murder of dozens. The most recent of which happened to be Nott. She took a step forward. “I will have to turn you in. I hope you know that.”
“I do,” he voiced deeply.
She knew his game. “You’re going to run. Just like before.”
Draco nodded. “But this time I will not be found.”
Hermione huffed, feeling anger rise to the surface. “I suppose you really are Draco Malfoy.”
He ignored her jab. “Say what you like. I will do anything to stay out of Azkaban.”
“A bloody coward – through and through,” she spat.
Draco shot her a glare. “Is that how you repay me for saving your life?”
“You didn’t save me! You kept me hostage!”
“I’m not talking about now!” he roared, sending her back several paces. Draco stepped closer to Hermione, catching her once more as she tripped over the skirt of her dress. “I’m talking about the Battle of Hogwarts – on the seventh floor.”
“I remember,” she acknowledged. “But saving one person doesn’t exempt you from the law.”
“I didn’t say it would,” he retorted.
“Then why did you do it?” asked the brunette, realizing the colour of his eyes had remained the same.
Draco’s mouth hovered over hers for several seconds. “Because I couldn’t stand the idea of seeing you hurt,” he answered coolly. “Not again.”
He was speaking of the Skirmish at Malfoy Manor. It was the object of Hermione’s nightmares, and something that would probably haunt her for the rest of her life. But the idea of that moment haunting Draco sent a flurry of mixed emotions through her body. “What are you trying to say?” she asked, wondering where the words came from.
Draco’s expression was illegible. “You ask too many questions.”
“What would you rather I do?” she pressed, still in his grasp.
They stayed like this for a very long time. Hermione didn’t know what was happening to her. Her body temperature rose to insurmountable heights and her heart was pounding louder than ever. She took several deep breaths, noticing Draco was also caught in some sort of limbo, and felt the strap of her dress slink down her left shoulder, leaving it bare. The young woman went to readjust it, and stopped as Draco’s hand grasped hers, preventing any movement.
His eyes flirted with her body, which had been left soaked in the pensieve potion. Her dress clung to her skin in perfect shape with the upper curves of her torso. She may as well have been wearing nothing.
She knew exactly what his look meant. She had only seen it once before, on someone else, someone that she had long forgotten about. Hermione had no idea what urged her to do it, but she reached with one hand, to the back of the dress and unzipped.
The expression on Draco’s face went from embarrassed, to surprised, to completely and utterly famished.
“Is this what you want?” she asked timidly.
He said nothing. Instead, Draco took her by the waist and threw her atop his bed. “I’ll have no control from here,” he warned her, ready to devour.
Hermione took one final breath. “Neither will I.”
- 4
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- 6
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Beauty and the Beast