They All Taste the Same | By : pomerann Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 22353 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3 |
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Chapter 9 - Alternate ending
“One day more.”
“Mmm, hmm.”
“Are you nervous?”
“No… not really. We’ve been at this for so long. You?
“I… yes actually…”
Hermione turned to him. “Really?”
“Since my Mum died, I didn’t have anything to lose. I didn’t care much about what happened to me or anyone else. Now…” He wrapped his fingers around hers, and squeezed, "things are different."
She turned his face so that he was facing her and gently pressed her lips to his in a chaste kiss. Their noses touched, and she could feel his breath tickling the skin around her mouth. He smiled and stroked her cheek with his finger.
Hermione looked up curiously at him, and bit her lip.
“What?” Draco said as he smiled down at her.
“Nothing.”
He tugged on one of her curls. “I know you. You were going to say something.”
She looked out at the earth, took a deep breath, and then turned back to him. “Draco, when did you- I was just curious- when did you stop thinking of me as a Mudblood?”
His eyes opened in surprise. “Oh,” he said, and then gave an embarrassed smile. “When you slapped me.”
“Sixth Year?” Hermione asked. That didn’t make sense.
“No.” He barked a laugh. “Third.”
She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Really?"
Draco chuckled at her bewilderment. “It’s easier to dismiss someone as unequal if you don’t interact with them, don’t look at them, don’t have an actual conversation with them. They remain inconsequential, and… it’s easier to believe they’re not really a person.”
She smirked. “So I slapped some sense into you?”
“Something like that,” he said as he grinned at her. “Though it wasn’t just the slap. You got my attention, and then… I saw the look in your eyes. You were fierce and angry… and you were looking right at me.”
“Go on.” Hermione stroked the muscles of his arm and waited for him to continue.
“It was as if you..." He exhaled in thought. "Well, you forced me to come to grips with the fact that you were you… just like I am myself. At that moment when you looked at me, I realized…” he gave her an apologetic half grin, “that you were a person. And if you were a person, then all Muggle-borns must be as well.” He paused and then asked, “Does that make any sense?” She nodded. “And then later on…” His voice trailed off. He looked pensive, trying to determine if he should continue or not.
“Go on,” Hermione urged him again. “Not only is this fascinating, but my ego is quite enjoying all of the thought and agonizing directed at me.”
Draco laughed lightly. “I was going to say that it wasn’t until later that I started to think of you as… more than some annoying little swot. I mean… you were really irritating, Granger.”
“Oh,” she said, not sure how to react to this bit of information.
"Not anymore, you've changed quite a bit since those days." He ruffled her hair and she smiled ruefully. “In any case, I accepted that you were a person, but I didn’t like you. At all.” He tilted his head to the side after looking at her jilted expression. “Granted, some of it was jealousy, but then during fourth year...”
“The Yule Ball?” she guessed. That was when Ron had suddenly discovered that she was of the female persuasion as well.
He looked taken aback. “What? No. You didn’t even look like yourself then. It was during that whole business with Rita Skeeter.”
“Rita Skeeter?” she repeated, dumbly, not sure of what he meant. He was the one who started the problems with Rita Skeeter in the first place.
“She was trashing your reputation -" he paused. "Sorry about that."
She waved her hand dismissively. He had apologized for everything he had done long ago.
"Well... everyone was taunting you. But you just… ignored them.” She looked at him questioningly. “It wasn’t just that you ignored everyone, it was how you did it. You looked almost…" he paused, searching for the correct word, "regal. You made everyone else seem foolish. I… I think that’s when I really started to respect you. People were throwing shit at you, but they came out covered in it. Not you.”
“Oh.” She was flattered, and hadn’t been expecting that answer at all.
He looked at her apologetically. “I guess I didn’t give you any reasons to respect me during school.”
She raised an eyebrow at him. “You saved my life sixth year… and possibly fourth. I’d say we’re even.”
He grinned and shook his head.
“Draco?”
Still grinning, he answered, “Hermione.”
“It’s been bothering me…. Apparating into the fortress. Don’t you think that will alert them? Set off alarms?”
He furrowed his brow. “Probably. I’m counting on our speed to do most of the damage before they’ll be able to do anything about it. Remember, we want them to eventually know that we’re on the inside. It’ll be easier for the rest to get in.”
“Yes, but we should delay that as long as possible, right? Are there any windows that we could go through?”
“You saw the map.”
“Entrapped with spells and charms.”
“We could probably figure out a way around them and get through, but that would take time, and some trial and error.”
“Huh.” Hermione bit her lip in thought. “What are the walls like?”
“They’re made of these huge two ton stones.” Sitting up and turning around, he gave a cursory glance to the rock that they were sitting against. “About this size, I guess. Are you thinking that we could blast our way through?” He peered at the stone. “Wizards couldn't, but we probably could.”
She shook her head. “But then, we’d alert them, and they’d know that we were just coming in. They’d fortify the entrances, not pull back.”
Draco was caressing the face of the rock as delicately as he had caressed her backside when they had lain in the field earlier. Giving her a side-long glance, he asked, “Fancy we could walk through the walls?”
Her eyes widened. “Have you done it?”
“No, it never crossed my mind to try.” He gave her a sly grin and said, “Being with you brings out a world of possibility.”
A giddy smile spread across her face as she watched him study the stone. He narrowed his eyes and bent forward, pressing his hand into the solid rock experimentally.
“I think if we—”
Suddenly inspired, she stood and pulled Draco up with her. She stepped in between Draco and the large rock, blocking his line of vision.
“Take my hands,” she said, holding them out in front of her.
He clasped her small hands in his, and she took a steadying breath. Slowly, she proceeded to walk backwards, pulling him along. She watched Draco’s awed expression as the rock swallowed her, obscuring her vision as everything went black. A few seconds later, they emerged on the other side.
“I… love you,” he said, his voice lilting slightly with amazement. “How did you—?”
“A layered transfiguration and vanishing. Bit by bit.”
“Nicely done.” He nodded appreciatively. “Any other bits of the plan you want to take apart?” he teased her.
She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. "How about I just take apart your bits?"
Draco gave her a slow smile, which widened to reveal his fangs. "Who knew," he said as he circled Hermione's waist with his hands, "that your talk of knocking me around would make me randy?"
She ran her hand up the back of his neck and played with the soft hairs there, flashing her teeth. “Do you like dominant women?”
He lowered his face to hers and said softly, “I like you.”
Her devilish smile turned warm and she turned to face the slowly rotating earth. “Do you want to go somewhere else?” she asked, suddenly excited. “See more of the world before the battle? It’s still night in parts of Africa. We could climb Mount Kilimanjaro. Run on the plains of the Serengeti.”
He gave a wistful smile. “Let’s just stay here for a while. This is… this is our place. It’s pure. Untouched. After the battle, we’ll do whatever you want. I don’t care, so long as we’re together.”
She rested her head on his shoulder and they stood, watching the slowly rotating Earth. After a few minutes of silence, Hermione turned to Draco, pushing her bare breasts against his chest.
“You could bite me,” she said in lowered voice.
He quirked an eyebrow. “You’re not making a very good case for travelling to Africa.”
She reached down to stroke him and smirked at his budding erection. “I think this is why we’ve never heard of wizard vampires. They’re too busy.”
ooooooooooooooooooooooo
Hermione and Draco stood at the edge of the wards which surrounded the grounds of the fortress. She raised her hand; and slowly pressed it to the barrier. It rippled and gelled around her palm, bending to her will, and her lips parted in wonder.
“Amazing, isn’t it?” Draco spoke softly into her ear.
“I thought this would be difficult,” she said, studying the perturbations caused by her hand in fascination. “I can do whatever I want with it, and they won’t know.”
She closed her eyes, and a bright light emitted from her hand, spread and diffused into the barrier around her before dimming into the darkness. Slowly, she lowered her hand.
“That’s it,” she said breathily, still in disbelief of her own power.
She turned towards Draco, and sent a Patronus to Harry telling him that the wards were already modified and that they would start combing the grounds. She could already see the bizarre effect the wards had as fallen leaves swirled in the wind and accumulated at the interior edges. Anyone could go in, but no one could get out.
“You really think it will only take us five minutes to take out the external guard?” she asked him.
He smiled, baring his teeth. “Much less than that, assuming you don’t stop to snack. Animals won’t stave off your hunger, Hermione. No matter how much you wish it so.”
She looked down, ashamed, thinking of how she had attacked Harry and Ron.
“Hey,” he said, lifting her chin with his fingers, “There’s nothing for it; it can’t be helped. This is the way we are. Now, you realize that you’re likely to get a bout of bloodlust. Accept it and work around it.”
“What if I ruin the surprise?”
“I won’t let you. Nobody knows we’re here and we have plenty of time until the guard changes. Our job is to make it easier for the rest. It’s a good plan. It’ll work.”
She nodded. “I know. I just… thought I’d be with Harry and Ron at the very end.” She gave a resigned sigh, “Now, I think I’d fuck it up for them.”
“Probably,” he said and she winced. “Look, you’re making sure that they’ll get there. This attack wouldn’t be happening if it weren’t for you.”
“You helped, too,” she protested.
He chuckled. “I could give a shit, Hermione.” He looked deep into her eyes and she felt her breath hitch at the intensity there. “This is all for you.”
She flushed with warmth and emotion at his words, and felt heartened by her part in the war, even though it was altered from what she originally thought it would be.
He gave a quick squeeze to her hand. “Remember: don’t get too close, don’t shed blood, and keep moving. It’ll only take a few seconds for us to cover the grounds.”
She nodded, gave a half grin and then raised her eyebrow at him. “Beat you to the other side?”
He drew back and looked at her as if she had said something incredibly stupid. “Doubtful, Granger.”
In a flash, she was silently running back and forth, covering the ground between the fortress wall and the ward, only stopping to survey her surroundings for a fraction of a second. Two guards were talking to each other in the distance, clad in black robes. She felled them instantly, and continued on further into the trees.
She couldn’t deny that the scent of warm bodies wasn’t affecting her, but she kept moving. She incapacitated another Death Eater. And another. And another.
She could do this, she could.
And then she stopped. She could smell someone nearby—hear a heartbeat. She looked around, but no one was in her line of sight. She leapt forward to where the source of the heartbeat was and looked to her right. A young woman with dark hair was leaning against a wide tree, thus explaining as to why Hermione didn’t see her.
Her hood was thrown back and she had taken off her mask, staring down at it. She was so deep in thought that she hadn’t even noticed Hermione appear behind her. Her hair was tied back, and Hermione could see every vein underneath her skin. Warm skin. Warm flesh.
Saliva pooled in her mouth, and she knew that she had to leave before losing herself to bloodlust. Summoning her willpower, she was just about to go when the Death Eater whirled around with her wand out, having heard Hermione’s panting.
Immediately, the heartbeat that had Hermione so entranced sped up and the thrumming of blood became much louder as adrenaline rushed through the woman’s body. She felt her fangs extend.
She gasped, “The Mudblood! Cruc—” The timbre in her voice sent Hermione’s hunger into overdrive and before the woman could finish, Hermione knocked the wand out of her hand, pinned the Death Eater up against the tree, and sunk her teeth into her neck.
The woman cried out, which only spurred Hermione on, and she drank her fill of the sweet, sweet warmth. Her eyes rolled back and she moaned, rubbing herself against the woman, who was weakly clawing and pushing at Hermione, unsuccessfully trying to free herself.
Hermione felt an uncontrollable desire course through her and she ground her pelvis into the woman, writhing as she fed from her. It wasn’t enough, she needed more; she was itchy and aching all over her body. The blood was at once sating her and inflaming her further.
Never releasing her latch on the woman’s neck, she dragged her down to the ground and proceeded to gyrate over her rapidly weakening body, causing friction over her sensitive core. Slowly, the flow lessened. Frustrated, Hermione let out a growl and sucked harder, pressing herself more forcefully into the woman, as if stretching for something that she couldn’t quite reach. Bit by bit, the flow slowed to a trickle, until it disappeared entirely. Bent over the now dead woman on all fours, Hermione extracted her fangs from her flesh with a snarl.
Sensing she wasn’t alone, she looked up with a start to see Draco leaning against a tree with his arms folded, casually observing her in amusement.
She licked the blood from her lips and he grinned wickedly down at her, revealing his fangs.
Eyes glittering, he said in a sing-song voice, “I win.”
With a shriek, she lunged at him, clamoring at his body so that he would fill her in the way that only he could.
Ooooooooooo
Quickly, Hermione repaired her clothes muttering, “Shit, shit, shit, shit,” and headed towards the exterior wall of the fortress.
“Where are you running off to?” Draco asked lazily.
She stopped in her tracks and looked incredulously back at him. “Why are you still on the ground? We’ve lost a lot of time! We have to go!”
“Firstly, because I’ve never been fucked so hard in my life and I’m sore as hell—not that I didn’t enjoy myself, mind you.” He gave her a lascivious smile. “Secondly, we have plenty of time before the guard changes. They won’t know we’re here until we start disrupting the fortress and the Order won’t come until we signal. We could probably clear out half the fortress in a few minutes now that you’re sated and better able to control yourself... pending any extreme situations. We’ve got lots of time.”
Gingerly, Draco crawled to his feet and winced as he stood up. Hermione hurried over to him. “Are you okay?”
He bent over and put his hands on his knees. “I’m in much better shape than that tree you threw me against.” She looked over at the fallen tree, split down the middle.
“Sorry,” Hermione said in a small voice, rubbing the smooth skin of his back.
He closed his eyes briefly. “Right… there… yeahhhhhhh…” She kneaded his muscles and a healing spell followed the movement of her hands.
After another groan, Draco looked over his shoulder to watch her work on his back. She met his eyes and slid her hands over the smooth expanse of his back, down to his buttocks, and back again.
“It’s not so bad you know,” she said.
“What’s that?”
“Forever. With you.”
He blinked, and she couldn’t tell if he was happy from her admission, or sad in that she was giving so much of her previous life up. Probably both.
His voice lowered. “We’ll find a way, Hermione. It’ll just take time.”
She swallowed, and gave him a small smile.
“Fortunately, we have it in spades.”
A slow, half grin formed on his face. “That we do.”
He turned around to face her.
“Ready?”
She cocked an eyebrow and gave him a once-over.
“Are you going to streak through the castle?”
He looked down as if nothing was amiss and said, “We wanted to surprise them, didn’t we?”
She waved her hand and conjured a form-fitting black outfit on him and they walked towards the wall of the fortress.
“Why is it always black with you?”
“So we can’t be seen,” she answered.
“That’s what Disillusionment Charms are for. You do know that the inside is lit up like the Great Hall on Christmas, don’t you? Black won’t do much towards concealment.”
“Why are you complaining? I have yet to see you wear anything but black.”
He opened his mouth as if to retort, and then shut it, instead reaching out to pinch her bum before sprinting towards the wall of the fortress.
“Hey!” she called as she ran after him. But before she could retaliate, he was walking backwards, eyebrows raised, and a smirk plastered across his lips as he disappeared into the wall of the fortress.
She quickly followed, and the two emerged in a brightly lit hallway, empty but for the lit torches and suits of armor standing along the walls. They could hear voices on the other side of the far wall and approached it together.
“Again?” she asked.
“It will take them by surprise.”
She glanced at him.
“Ready?”
He nodded.
She looked at the wall nervously. They could hear roughly fifteen people on the other side. Slowly, she walked forwards and blackness encased her. She emerged on the other side to see four robed men bent over a table while a fifth shouted out orders to the rest of the people in the room.
Abruptly, the fifth stopped shouting and stared directly at her. After a pause in which nobody spoke, the room seemed to move as one and everyone made to attack them. Hermione and Draco dodged and deflected curses with blinding speed, while taking the robed men bloodlessly. The whole thing lasted less than ten seconds. Hermione looked around, admiring their work when she noticed that there weren’t nearly as many beating hearts now as when they had first entered.
Hermione shot a horrified look at Draco. “You haven’t been stunning them?”
He looked at her, incredulous. “You have?”
Hermione glared at him. “It’s just as easy to stun as it is to kill. Easier, even!”
Draco exhaled sharply through his nose. “Do you want this war to end or not? We need to finish them off! Hermione, you can’t—”
She waved her hand. “We don’t have time for this. I have to signal the Order. The Death Eaters will soon know that something is wrong, if they don’t already. Let’s go-and Draco?”
He looked up, glaring at her mutinously.
“Stun them.”
Ooooooooooooooo
Draco and Hermione proceeded in much the same fashion throughout the fortress. Sometimes following a path through the corridors, sometimes walking through walls, doing their best to take out as many Death Eaters as they could, as quickly as they could. Hermione found that Draco wouldn’t follow her directives as she was used to the others in the Order doing. When they encountered Death Eaters, Hermione tried to stun them before Draco could kill them, the result was that they left a mix of dead and alive in their wake.
After he had needlessly killed someone that she had just stunned, she rounded on him furiously. “Has being a vampire made you so callous to human life?”
“I kill when I need to!” he shot back. “For food and defense!”
“Stunning them is enough! It’s not always necessary to kill! You don’t need to defend yourself from someone who’s out cold!”
“Tell me, Hermione,” Draco asked in mock query. “How many of the Dark Lord’s supporters that were not killed in the first war are fighting you right now in this one?”
Hermione ground her teeth. “Going by your logic, Dumbledore should have killed you back in sixth year when he knew what you were doing. I should have killed you back during the fake prisoner exchange!”
Draco snarled and pushed her roughly against the wall, knocking the wind out of her. “Yes,” he growled down at her, “you should have.”
“If I would have killed you,” she spat at him, “we wouldn’t be winning right now.”
He dug his fingers into her shoulders, making her wince. “If Dumbledore would have offed me then, he would still be alive and the Dark Lord might have been killed before the second war even started.”
She was seething, too angry to correct his assumption regarding Dumbledore's health at the time. With a lowered voice, she said, “Draco, you’re murdering people.” He flinched, but she continued mercilessly. “Like it or not, that’s what it’s called. If you don’t stop, I’m leaving you.”
The effect was instantaneous. Draco’s angry expression fell from his face and he sagged back, deflated. Hermione rubbed her shoulders where his grip had bruised her.
His voice took on a dejected tone. “I just… I just want you to be safe.”
She sighed and her voice softened. “I know. But you’re taking it to an unnecessary extreme.”
He swallowed, visibly shaken by her ultimatum. “Okay.”
“Okay?” she said in a whisper.
He nodded, still affected. “I don’t agree with you, but… yes.”
She stood on her tiptoes and he lowered his head to receive her kiss.
“Reducto!”
The ping of a ricochet followed by a large crash and disconcerting splatter sounded from one of the adjoining rooms. They both tensed as the air became thick with an unbelievably strong smell of blood. She looked into Draco’s eyes, now shining hungrily down at her and felt him harden. Their fangs extended and she started to salivate. She knew that they should leave, but somehow she found herself in the middle of a blood-splattered room, with Draco beside her, just as hypnotized by the blood as she was. Looking around at the carnage, entranced, she didn’t even remember how she had gotten there. Disembodied limbs and shattered glass were everywhere.
The compulsion to feed became overwhelming. Slowly, she turned to the lone figure standing in the doorway at the far end. He had a wound on his shoulder and was bleeding profusely. She couldn’t hear his heartbeat because it had been silenced, but she felt the vibrations and small disturbances in the air around her… pulsing. His blood flowed red and warm out of his wound with the same rhythm. She started walking towards it and felt Draco moving slowly with her. Slowly, slowly, towards that pulse.
“Neville,” Hermione said, completely entranced. “You’re bleeding.”
Chapter End Notes:
Dare I kill of Neville? ::eyebrows wiggling::
Please tell me your thoughts, I love the reviews!
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