Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Lupine Dreams	By : Wolfling1972 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 11119 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe, that belongs solely to JK Rowling, neither am I making money from this story. I just enjoy playing in her world

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
(AN1: I changed the date of Lucius no longer having a wand. In the books, Voldemort takes it because Harry's wand shares his wand's core therefore, this occurs around the time of the Battle of Seven Potters. However, I thought Voldemort could have taken it any time after the Department of Mysteries battle as a punishment for LM. Basically, Voldemort has Lucius' wand by December of 1996 and LM did not go to jail~ a major change... Also a warning for this chapter: There will be torture. I tried not to be too graphic, but it is there...and this is a bit shorter than my previous chapters. The one after this suffers from the same malady. So sorry.)
Draco thought on her question as the Hogwarts Express carried him back to London, back to the madhouse that was once his home. He understood, with something akin to preternatural knowledge, that it was his job to protect her, maybe from himself, definitely from others. That thought process had been part of his anger when she had given Blaise her attention. He knew that it was his job to take care of her, for as long as he was able. True, he was also jealous and possessive and he hated that his friend could laugh with her, smile at her, TOUCH her but he couldn't admit that, not at first. Hell, until he'd approached her the first time with his demand that she leave his friend alone? He hadn't even realized that the jealousy and possessiveness were there.
He leaned back against the comfort of his seat and considered what those two words that she'd given voice to the night before meant~ her small question. It was obvious that she felt she had to protect him too, in whatever way she was able. For her, that meant nurturing. In some cases it required softness but it also meant a fierce temper when her charge fucked up. So was it some sort of bond, like his mother thought? A fated pairing? He didn't know, wasn't sure, couldn't tell and it was, quite frankly, disconcerting. It was Theo who drew him from his thoughts.
"So you and Blaise traded off on the mud- um, muggle-born? Did he get bored?"
Draco stared at his friend, wondered where that snappishness was coming from but chose to ignore the tone of voice to focus on the words.
"Ask Blaise as I wasn't aware of us trading off. I thought of it as him trying to bug me."
Blaise laughed, a flash of white teeth against dark skin. "Hermione is far from boring but her attention went elsewhere as did mine." He gave an insouciant shrug. "And, if I must be honest, I was trying to bug Draco."
Theo shook his head. "Well, I can understand Blaise' s attraction. Lineage doesn't mean much to him but you..."
"Don't care about it either. How can I? Being from the sacred twenty-eight didn't protect me from my punishment, did it?"
Theo's eyes darkened imperceptibly. "No. I guess it didn't. Still, I doubt your family..."
"My mother knows or didn't you see Hermione's necklace? Mother sent her the chain, which just happens to be a Malfoy piece, way back in November on our first Hogsmeade weekend. There are two charms on it now; a book and a wolf's head. " Draco paused, icy glare flashing. "Lucius doesn't matter, not his wants or his opinions." The platinum blond young man paused before he shuddered out a breath. "You need to think about this hang-up, Theo. If this could happen to me, don't you think this or something else could happen to you?"
Theo's gaze darted to the window and he appeared to be studying the rolling landscape in silence. When he finally turned back, he gave a small frown. "You'll see me over the holiday, Drake and I guess we'll see what something else, is."
Draco inhaled, harshly and panic bloomed in his chest. "Salazar, Theo. That can not be good."
A faint wash of pink touched the slender young man's cheeks. "No, Probably not but it isn't like I will have much of a choice, at least not if I don't want to end up like you...or dead."
Draco nodded, his agreement with his friend's assessment plainly stated by the motion.
Blaise spoke up his deep voice almost grating. "Why?"
The blond answered, his voice low. "Because he is a Nott and he should follow in the footsteps of his father."
Theo sighed. "Because unlike you, Blaise, no one ever asks us what we want."
The trio of young men soon turned their attention to other things, making desultory conversation to stave off more serious matters. At one point, Blaise's newest addiction had wandered in, her blue-gray gaze and nearly waist-length blonde hair marking her as distinctly as his dark skin and cocoa eyes.
"Quibbler," she asked, her light soprano not in the least bit hesitant.
"I'll take one, Luna if I can get a hug once we reach King's Cross," Blaise purred.
She gave him a bright, happy smile. "I would have given you a kiss without you taking the paper, Blaise, but I suppose a hug will have to do."
She handed it to him, her small, pale hand coming into contact with his, a gentle stroke of palm to palm before she turned her attention to Draco and the smile and general silliness went away. "Do not worry about your friend. Neither your punishment nor the mark is meant for him, not yet. He has time. So do you." With a shake of her head, radish shaped earrings swinging, she looked at Theo and the shock apparent on his features. "Goodbye." Then she smiled and bounced away, leaving all three wizards struck by the utter oddity of it all.
It was Theo who broke the silence, his voice still quietly awed. "Why did that make me feel better?"
Draco shook his head and shrugged but was forced to agree and soon enough, the three young men resumed their previous conversation
It was late afternoon when the train pulled into the station and the various students, excited for their breaks, made their way to the family members who awaited them. Draco had worried that Lucius would accompany his mother but as soon as he'd retrieved his trunk he saw her, alone, her bright blonde hair a beacon to the eye. With a small huff of sound, the tall young man went to join her.
"Mother. How are you?"
Narcissa gave him an empty smile, the pain in her eyes almost hidden behind a mask of civility. When she deigned to answer, her words were light. "I am fine, son, though things have been rather...dismaying. Luckily for me, Severus has made it a point to check in more often, otherwise I think dismay would be the least of my worries." She paused, glanced around and started walking. "Come along, Draco."
Within fifteen minutes, the pair had returned to the Manor.
"After you've put your things away, I would like you to come to my sitting room, my dragon. We have much to discuss."
However, that was not to be as a small, cowering elf appeared with a crack and interrupted the pair. "Master Draco? The Lord wishes you to attend him, now," the small being quavered. "I will put away your things."
Narcissa gave a small hiss, a quickly indrawn breath, but the blond wizard only nodded his assent and turned to the wide doors to his left. "I assume he is in the main parlor, Tot?"
The elf nodded, took his trunk and disappeared. Draco then turned to his mother. "I shall return to you when this business is done."
His mother nodded and took herself off. Once she began to ascend the stairs, the blond allowed his mind to shut down, hiding his thoughts behind a screen of noise: thoughts of the cabinet, lack of sleep, classes. Those things were of no importance but keeping Hermione (and his mother) safe, was. When he was sure that nothing would seep from his control and with his mask of superiority firmly in place, the Malfoy heir strode through the doors and along a dark hall, turning left and then right.
He heard the slither of scales against polished wood long before he felt the cold seep under his skin. The scent of dry musk and fecal matter, usually not easily picked up by human senses, pricked at his nostrils and caused a low growl to escape into the solitude. He continued onward, not pausing until he reached a final set of doors. With nary a hesitation, he yanked them open and stepped inside. Looking neither to his left nor right, he quickly crossed the dimly lit room and took a knee.
"My Lord?"
The man (if one were to call him that) who sat upon an ornate throne-like chair, shifted slightly, his words a mere hiss of sound. "Ah, young pup. I see that you are well. Tell me, how goes your tasks? Have you made any headway?"
Draco shook his head and followed that up with a negation. "No, my Lord. I have not. The cabinet is proving to be cantankerous and I have not seen the Headmaster as yet as there is news of him leaving the school on far too many occasions." The young man did not make any other excuses, well aware that the pale, slim, hairless figure before him would demand access to his memories.
"And what of the mudblood? Have you gained her confidence," Voldermort hissed.
"As well as I am able, my Lord. She still does not fully trust me though she allows information to slip."
"Look at me, pup."
Draco's gray gaze met the crimson slitted orbs of his nominal master and held it. With no words and only the smallest of wand movements, the thing breached his mental defenses (or the one's the skeletal figure was aware of) and began to ferociously attack the young man's memories. Shuffle. Here a glance at bushy hair and sneered thoughts. Shuffle. Black cabinet and whispered words over and over and over again until tears and sweat dripped from a pointed chin. Shuffle. Snapped assurances, paperwork, essays, no sleep, the change. The change. The change. Shuffle. "Be careful. If I see it, others do too." Shuffle. The acrid stench, a sludgy taste of wolfsbane. Stupid fucking cabinet, stupid fucking change.
Draco came to, flat on his back, eyes slit against the low light, the slow trickle of blood from a patrician nose staining his face. The young man wiped the crimson away with a pale hand and forced himself back up, there to resume his previous bent head and bowed knee. A moment later, his attention was drawn to the whispers of others: Theo and Greg's fathers, Snape. He shook it all away and focused on controlling his breathing. Finally, the man on the chair spoke again.
"You must work harder, faster. It may well be impossible for you, tainted thing that you are (right Lucius?) to kill Dumbledore but the cabinet needs to be fixed so that others can do what is required. I expect better progress by Easter break on both fronts~ the mudblood, my way in."
Draco nodded and spoke a quiet "Yes, my Lord."
Voldemort paused, his frame shaking with silent laughter. "However, I can not allow this failure to pass without a fitting punishment. Lucius?"
The tall, blond man stepped forward and made his way closer before also taking a knee. "Lord," he inquired in a hushed tone.
"Take my wand," he paused and then huffed a grating chuckle. "Well, what used to be YOUR wand and punish your son. A few crucios should do."
Draco watched as the man who was supposed to protect him reached for the wand gripped by one long, spidery hand. Of course, the young man knew that his father would do it. He was far too weak to do otherwise. Was there ever a more heinous version of "self-preservation"? Like any Slytherin, known for their cunning and ambition, the fragile form beside him still held the dregs of his house. The man would do what was needed. It did not matter anyway, did it?
Draco was a mutt.
The young man rose to his full height, just a bit over 6' 2" now, and stared at the wall behind the broken, older version of himself. He did not speak, did not shudder. He made no move to fight or to flee. None of that would have worked, especially since he was surrounded by those who were no more than his enemies. Instead, he waited, patiently and at the very first whispered "Crucio", he allowed his gaze to fall upon the man who was no father of his.
At least for a moment.
Then came the pain.
Nerve endings on fire, muscles spasming, legs and arms weak. He refused to scream, gave only a loud grunt and then silence...silence...silence. That worked for a moment until the next one which dropped him to his knees as pain ripped through him, exploded under his skin, tore at his bones, jerked him into the oceanic pull of ....hurts, oh it hurts, fuck, this hurts... From a distance, he heard a low pitched moan (almost a whine). He knew that it was himself but he fought it down, withdrew into the quietude of his mind.
A third one and he felt himself flop to his back, head hitting the floor with a crashing thunk as his body was thrown into an epileptic fit as veins, joints and muscles were ripped from beneath his skin and hung out to dry in a desert where nothing survived. He could hear faint grunts but no screams, laughter maybe, still no screams. Was he screaming? Was he still breathing? 'Have to be, still hurting.'
Kicking then. In the head, where his nose exploded in a shower of iron and heat. Ribs next, hard enough to move a still jerking body across the floor. Left knee until it cracked, twisted, bent out of true which finally drew the sound of whimpers but not loud, no not loud because 'Fuck them. I can do this. I can do this.'
And it was true...
Until his lovely Aunt Bella used her pointed boots to kick him between his legs and he felt the POP as one of his fragile balls exploded, felt the thick fluid (Blood? Veins? What?) gathered in the loose fit of his green boxer. Screaming then, oh yes, before everything faded to black.
And roared back in color:
They are standing around him, dressed in their Death Eater robes, heads bowed as they listen to the hissing words of the maniac who marked each one of them, keeping a leash on their madness. Greyback comes from somewhere else to glare at the young man he ruined, before moving on, joining the half-circle before the pale form of the thing that caused so much destruction, so much death.
"You will be ready to snatch the mudblood as we all know she has been a major reason for Potter's success. She should be home with her parents, as the holiday is upon us."
The others nod in agreement, a steady "Yes, my Lord" from every sneering mouth however, it is Snape who spoke up, his deep baritone filled with repugnance.
"We will have to travel into Muggle London though I can get the address easily enough from the records kept at the school. Perhaps give the mudblood a few more days with her family so that she drops her guard?" He pauses. "She is the most proficient at shield charms, hexes and jinxes, a very able duelist though that is not her strength. She is not a strategist, not like the Weasley boy or even Potter. She is far too logical to have an innate grasp of contingencies."
A maniac, in the form of his aunt, speaks. "Why Severus, you sound as if you believe she could take us on."
The DADA professor shakes his head. "Only three should be needed as the girl will aim to bind, to disarm, not HURT anyone. I am simply informing our Lord of what we face. Going in blindly and relying on sheer numbers will allow her to escape as she will be on her home ground and has already gained her Apparition license as well as being able to cast outside of a school environment. She is seventeen, after all."
Old snake face gave a brisk nod.
"Good to know. You will report to me after Christmas and we will plan the capture for New Year's Eve."
Severus took a knee, his greasy hair falling forward to his blank expression. "Yes, my Lord."
The conversation devolved into hisses and shrill laughter, broken words and screams as the boy drifted, drifted until there was nothing else to keep Draco's attention. Pain roared through his central nervous system and swallowed him down, much like Nagini, broken meat fit for a beast. He would be easily devoured and excreted. However, he knew that he would be forgotten long before that.
His last thought, before his consciousness left him, was a question. 'Why didn't he tell them that Hermione stayed at the school?'
Finally, he was gone.
(AN2: Gods, I hate Lucius. Weak-willed son of a booger. Betcha can't tell, huh?)
- 6
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- 8
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Lupine Dreams