Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Black Widow	By : goldhorse Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 35492 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: I don't own HP, JKR does. I make no money doing this but I do get carpel tunnel.

Chapter List
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From the mind of my finicky muse:

“Why in the bloody hell should I help you, Potter?” Draco growled, staring moodily into his glass of fire whiskey.
“Well, if you don’t care about your life…” Harry shrugged and stood up, brushing off invisible specs of dirt from his Auror uniform.
Draco snorted. “My life. Like you care about my life.”
Harry frowned. “Malfoy, you’re the only one I know that’s crafty enough to catch her.”
Draco quirked an eyebrow. “Was that a compliment?”
Harry rolled his eyes. “I also happen to know that you fancy her.”
“If I fancied her, why would I agree to catch her?”
“So she doesn’t kill again.”
“There is no proof, Potter.”
Harry nodded. “And that’s why I’m hoping I’m wrong. I’ve been her friend since I was eleven. This isn’t like her. She hasn’t been the same since….”
“The war,” Draco snapped. “Go on, Potter. Say it. It’s one word, three tiny little letters. I can’t believe you still avoid it.”
“Fine,” Harry growled. “She’s been different since the bloody war. She… she disappeared for a month. And when she came back, she was… she was….”
“A slag?”
“Watch your mouth,” Harry said with a sneer.
Draco shook his head and downed his glass of fire whiskey before filling it up again. “She’s a bloody slag, Potter, and you know it. She’s probably tupped most of the Wizengamet, half the aurors, and every affluent man… and woman… in the wizarding world. She’s everywhere.”
Harry rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I know. Okay? I know. She’s been married to an average of four men a year. But Malfoy, they’ve all ended up dead. Right after they sign their money away, they earn a plot at the local cemetery. They’re calling her the bloody black widow!”
Draco shrugged. “Girl’s turned into a gold digger. Not my problem.”
“It is your bloody problem. You’re next on her list.”
Draco snorted. “And you’re so sure.”
Harry looked at him soberly. “I saw an actual list.”
Draco choked on his drink, spluttering until he could clear his throat. “What?”
Harry nodded. “I searched her flat. She has a list of every Pureblood in the wizarding world. There are twenty three names marked off, thirteen in red. And yours is circled.”
“Why haven’t you turned her in?”
Harry shook his head and helped himself to a glass of Draco’s finest fire whisky. “Because it wasn’t in her handwriting. And it was next to a blood stone.”
Draco’s face went black. “A curse then.”
“The darkest.”
“Which is why you think I can take her.”
Harry nodded solemnly. “Who better to crack the darkest curse than the leading expert on them.”
Draco sniffed. “No one knows about that, Potter.”
He shrugged. “No one knows who any of the Unspeakables are. And they certainly don’t know about us.”
Draco shook his head. “I don’t know why I let you talk me into being a Silent Knight.”
Harry smirked. “Because you wanted to be an elite. You just can’t stand the fact that you can’t brag about it. And it might have gotten you out of Azkaban.”
“I didn’t deserve Azkaban!”
“I know. Which is why I offered you the position.”
“Damn you, Potter. Why me?”
“How long have you loved her Malfoy?”
“You’re delusional.”
“How long?”
“I don’t love her.”
“How. Long.”
Draco narrowed his eyes. “Since bloody fourth year you self-righteous bastard. Are you fucking happy now? Hmmm?”
“Will you catch her?”
“They’ll send her to Azkaban, Potter. I can’t do that.”
“Not if she’s been cursed.”
“And how do we prove that?”
Harry gave him an evil grin. “I’m sure you can find out a way.”
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“What crawled up your twat and died, Granger?”
Draco could tell the instant that the curse washed over her. The Hermione Granger he knew wouldn’t have hexed him for that one. Oh no. She would have knocked his bloody lights out. This one, she just narrowed her eyes and stared at him like a bug under a magnifying glass. He knew better than most how dark curses, especially blood curses, worked on the body. She was still herself, but whenever there was an extreme reaction, the curse clamped down harder. She’d been living under this one for years, if the short response time was anything to go by. Blood curses only got stronger with age. She might have fought valiantly against it in the beginning, but she was losing. Badly.
“You knocked my papers out of my hand, you naughty boy,” she purred, going so far as to run her finger down his chest.
Draco had longed for her to do that to him for years, but now he had to fight down his revulsion. When he’d first encountered Granger in the hall, she’d been spitting mad. In fact, she’d snapped at him when he’d smirked at her, even made a show of trying to plow through him. He hadn’t moved, of course. Malfoys didn’t simply bow to others. And she’d hit him hard, parchment and quills flying everywhere. But the curse won. He had no question it was the curse. She couldn’t have changed that much in the past five years.
“Care to see how naughty I can be?” he drawled, watching the lights dim in her eyes.
Definitely a curse. That should have made her eyes light up, whether it was anger, lust, or disgust, it should have been something. He wondered how she’d gone this long without someone finding out. After Potter’s impromptu visit to his house a few weeks ago, he’d dug up everything he could find on her since the war. She’d disappeared for a month right after they buried Remus and Tonks. Then she’d come back only to hide out for a year, dropping off the radar.
Her first public appearance was on the arm of one Pius Thicknesse, who was ousted as Minister of Magic after the war. She’d married him a few months into their supposed whirlwind romance and had recently been named heir to his estate when he died suddenly from a particular strain of Dragon Pox. Having lived under the threat of Dragon Pox, Draco knew first hand that not only was it easily curable now, but that it was quite benign. Unless you caught the rare strain Pius did. He also knew that the rare strain had been eradicated twenty years prior by none other than Severus Snape. It was quite the accomplishment, though most had chosen not to acknowledge it.
After Pius, she seemed distraught. Only, it didn’t last long, because three weeks later, she was on the arm of Avery Sr. A few months later, Avery Sr. and Jr. were the victims of smoke inhalation when a feindfyre charm went awry. Granger had gone on a trip to Ireland to work with some leprechauns on an equal opportunity employment act. She’d been described as inconsolable when she’d been told. But in an astonishing rebound, she’d married Albert Runcorn less than a month later.
Each marriage had something in common. They were all purebloods who had ties to the Dark Lord. After finding out that Granger had seemingly not been present for their deaths, he’d demanded that Potter give him a copy of the list. There, in black and white, was a list of every Death Eater and Dark Lord sympathizer since the beginning. Ones that were deceased before or during the war had black lines through their names. Ones that she’d married had been circled in blue and scratched out in blood, but it wasn’t her blood. It was the blood of each of her victims. The other ten were marked out in red ink. And his name was circled.
“Careful Draco,” Granger purred, breaking him out of his musings. “One might think you’ve dropped the old prejudices.”
That made him slightly angry, considering he’d dropped those before the war. “What do you know about me?” he snapped, stepping closer to her. Her eyes flickered again and dulled and it pained him to see it. “Maybe I look at the big picture now.”
“Oh,” she said, amusement in her tone, which grated on his nerves. “And what do you see when you look at me?”
His jaw tightened. If his next sentence didn’t get a rise out of her, she was in huge trouble. And he wasn’t sure how to get her out. “Used goods.”
Her jaw dropped open in shock and his heart leapt in joy but in seconds, she was back to cool, calm, and flirty.
“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it, Draco.”
Just the way she purred his name made him want to stuff her in a closet and simultaneously fuck her sideways and curse her to the moon and back. But he knew she couldn’t help it now. And as much as he hated to admit it, Potter was right. He did love her. He had to help her. So he swallowed down the bile in his throat.
“Are you offering?”
Her eyes went so cold he almost shivered. It wasn’t even her voice that leapt out of her mouth.
“Meet me tonight at the Lucky Dragon and we’ll see. Eight o’clock?”
“I’ll be there,” he purred. “But the question is, will you?”
“Oh I’ll be there,” she said, scrunching her face up into something that was supposed to pass for sexy but looked more like demented.
He nodded before stalking off down the hall. He had a messy haired pain in his arse to talk to.
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“Definitely a curse then,” Harry said sadly.
“Potter, I used the word twat and basically called her a slag before propositioning her. And she never once lost her cool.”
“You’re kidding,” Harry said in a strangled voice.
“She told me not to knock it until I’ve tried it. You be the judge.”
“And she didn’t once show any emotions?”
He sighed. “Her jaw dropped when I called her used goods. But she quickly recovered, or rather the curse did. She’s succumbed to it… completely.”
“Is there any hope?”
“Depends on what curse it was. You said there was a bloodstone involved?”
Harry nodded and walked over to a nearby cabinet. He took out a black velvet bag and dumped its contents onto a black metal table. Draco stared at the bloodstone for several minutes, analyzing it. To the untrained eye, it simply looked like a deep red rock, a pretty knick knack but nothing of value. But he could feel it, the evil radiating from it. He’d only seen two before it, but he knew the effects. The stones had belonged to his parents.
He shook off the dark thoughts and studied it, careful not to touch it. It was calibrated to Granger’s magic… and blood. He cast a diagnostic spell, frowning when it glowed purple. He cast another one, mapping the dynamics of the spells cast on the stone. Whoever had made it had been in a hurry. Spells cast on it were meant to be held for several days at a time or cast repeatedly, subtly strengthening them until they melded into the others. This one looked like it had been melted together in overlapping layers. While the stone was strong, it wouldn’t be unbreakable. It might explain why there was a year gap in between the time Granger disappeared and her first husband’s death. She could have been fighting it, though judging from the purple glow, she couldn’t tell anyone.
“Well?” Harry asked impatiently.
Draco shook his head and clicked his tongue. “Always impatient.”
“That’s sort of my job, Malfoy. You analyze, I strike.”
“Well, don’t strike this time,” Draco snapped. “What you’ve managed to steal from Granger is a definitely a dark bloodstone. It’s shoddily made, probably cranked out in a month. Coincidence?”
“Of course not,” Harry mumbled. “But don’t they take hold immediately.”
Draco nodded. “My parents’ did. But their stones were intricately crafted, down to the point where it melded with them and never let go.”
“And this one?”
“Like I said, shoddy. She did probably fight it for a year, which is a feat. But we both know she’s an exceptionally strong witch. But it wears and it broke her.”
“What’s it do?”
“This one? It’s made to control her to a point. Her thoughts are her own, so the gig at the Magical Creatures department is real. She still has a passion for them. But, when rebelling against her mission, and I think we can assume she’s been sent to kill sympathizers, it takes over. If you listen really closely, it isn’t her voice that speaks when she’s propositioning people.”
“Wouldn’t know. She’s never done it to me.”
“What about the weasel?”
Harry rolled his eyes. “She barely talks to him, snubs him every chance she gets.”
Draco narrowed his eyes, studying his partner of five years. “There’s more.”
Harry nodded. “Ron has a hot temper. He unleashed it on her… and she just blinked and turned around. When have you ever known her to do that?”
“It’s the curse. To stay away from suspicion, she’s probably been directed to maintain her friendships, though not as closely as they were before. After all, she can’t allow anyone to get close enough to notice anything.”
“But I did.”
Draco nodded. “No offense, but you’ve never been thought of as an observant person.”
Harry snorted. “No offense. Like that’s ever stopped you.”
Draco smirked. “Well, it’s true. You’re extremely observant, though too brash to analyze anything before you strike.”
Harry grinned. “That’s why I have you. Now, how do we crack this baby?”
“How long have you had it?”
“Since I looked at the list. I spelled a rock to keep her suspicions down but I imagine she’ll discover it soon enough.”
Draco rubbed his chin in thought. “A few weeks then. I wonder…”
“What?”
“Well, if you think her past victims were unobservant, you’d be wrong. Pius wasn’t exactly averse to his directives as a Death Eater. But being put under the imperious made him more pliable… and ultimately less blamable. She couldn’t make mistakes like she did in the hall with me. One ounce of wavering and she’d be done.”
“So why not ditch the stone?”
“It’s spelled to return. It looks like it’s set for calibration with the full moon. That’s in… a week and half.”
“So it what, flies back to her?”
“In a sense. If she doesn’t get it, it will come to her. And if it can’t come to her, it will call to her and she’ll be unable to resist going after it. I suggest putting it somewhere where it won’t hurt her to retrieve it.”
“But not return it now.”
“No,” Draco said slowly, his eyes locked with the bloodstone in thought. “The longer she’s away from it the better. But it means I’m going to have to work fast.”
“Is that wise?”
Draco cast one more spell and gave a Cheshire cat grin. “Oh, I think so.”
“What are you on about now?”
Draco looked at Potter for a long moment. “Looks like she’s not a slag at all Potter.”
“What?”
He nodded his head toward the stone. “It’s calibrated for sex.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“How?”
“The blood of a maidenhead is a powerful bonding agent, Potter. But like the muggles say, the early bird gets the worm but the second mouse gets the cheese.”
Harry shook his head in utter confusion. “What?”
“Huh, thought you’d been raised by muggles.”
“I was but what was the point?”
“The point is that her curser got to her first, and based the stone on that, but it’s a faulty premise.”
“Because,” Harry asked through gritted teeth. He hated the idea of Hermione being taken advantage of.
“Because of the second mouse. If she had actually had sex with another man, the bond would deteriorate. And she could break it.”
Harry’s jaw dropped in shock. “So you’re going to fuck her to save her?”
Draco shrugged. “Unless you want to.”
Harry gritted his teeth. “No. Even if I weren’t in a committed relationship, I wouldn’t take advantage of her that way.”
“Meaning he would kill you if you so much as looked at her wrong. And I have no problem with it if it will save her… even if it will probably border on the unthinkable.”
“Malfoy please-“
“Stop, Potter. She’s already been violated once. I have no wish to put her through it again, but if it will break her from whatever madness she’s endured for the last five years, then I will do it.”
Harry looked like he was stuck between wanting to strangle Draco and cry. Draco wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t do both. He sort of wanted to strangle himself and cry. Finally, the messy haired man slumped and nodded.
“Whatever you have to do, Malfoy.”
Draco gave him a curt nod and made his way out of the catacombs. It was a twenty minute walk just to reach the chamber of the Unspeakables and every twenty paces there was some sort of horrible hex or curse he had to disengage. There were only five members of the Silent Knights, a small band of wizards and one witch dedicated to solving the unsolvable. They held other jobs, his own as a barrister for the Ministry, but their main goal was ensuring another Voldemort never rose. If Granger was unwittingly working for someone targeting Pureblood sympathizers, then it was their job to find the culprit. And hopefully save Granger in the process.

AN: Que ominous music. So, my muse spat this out at me. It should be around three to four chapters. We'll see. Drop me a line, let me know if you like it. Until next time... love you guys.
PS: My muse has graciously allowed me to write another chapter of Fooling Fate. Look for it Monday. ;)
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Black Widow