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The Devil's Obsession	By : Refictionista Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 25158 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I'm not making any money off this fic because everything in the Wizarding world of Harry Potter belongs to Rowling, or maybe Warner Bros. I'm honestly not sure who exactly.

Chapter List
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Chapter One

The Consequences of Ron Weasley’s Anger
Thursday, October 26, 1997
Hermione raised her wand quickly before Harry or Ron were even able to get theirs out of their pockets.
“Protego!” she cried, with a speed neither had seen before. The force from her charm’s invisible shield expanded so rapidly between Harry and Ron that they both stumbled backwards from its blast. Once they regained their footing, Harry and Ron glared at each other, each with his fists clenched tightly.
“Leave the Horcrux,” Harry said quietly, yet his tone was absolute.
Ron snarled at Harry. If the two had been dogs, then they would have started snapping at each other. Finally, Ron furiously yanked the locket off his neck and forcefully threw it across the room to one of the camping chairs. He turned to Hermione, his face as red as his hair.
“What are you doing?” Ron snapped.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
Ron snorted and ran a hand through his hair. Merlin. Smartest witch in their class and she had no clue what he meant. He couldn’t believe that he had to spell it out for her.
“Are you staying, or what?” he asked, gesturing fiercely.
“I...” Hermione gripped her wand so tightly that her knuckles turned white, hugging herself as she trembled with the weight of that question. She looked from Ron to Harry, who was staring stony-faced at the other boy, not saying a word.
Hermione turned back to Ron. “Yes. Yes, I’m staying, Ron. We said we’d go with Harry, we said we’d help-” She frantically pointed down to the Horcrux locket that Ron had tossed onto the nearby chair.
“I get it,” Ron interrupted. “You choose him.” He sneered with a jerk of his head towards Harry the-chosen-one Potter. Breathing heavily, he punched one of the tent supports.
“Perhaps the Horcrux was right,” he muttered under his breath, storming out of the tent towards the riverbank.
A memory of the voice of the Horcrux hissed once again in the back of his mind, “Second best, always, eternally overshadowed…”
He heard Hermione calling after him.
“Ron, no! Please, come back. Come back!”
Ron ignored her.
He didn’t hear Harry say a single word at all. His best, no, make that his former best mate, couldn’t care less about anyone but himself. Some friend, indeed. Yes, something had broken between them. Harry was the reason he was leaving, and Hermione was staying to be with him!
Ron was right to ignore Hermione, the unfaithful witch!
He quickly Disapparated before hearing the full extent of Hermione’s sobbing pleas as she struggled to get through the Shield Charm. He didn’t want to give her a chance to change his mind.

§

After the pop of his Apparition, Ron appeared in another part of the forest where the trees were thicker. The dense leaves gave the surroundings a dark and sinister feel. Looking around, he felt the edge of his anger evaporate like steam off of a cup of tea.

The Horcrux no longer twisted his thoughts.
Oh, Merlin!
Ron suddenly realized he should go back. He was overcome with guilt, berating himself... how could he have left Hermione there? Especially after she had cried and begged him to stay.
He raised his wand to Apparate back, only to have a fleshy hand with grimy yellowed nails grasp him tightly around the wrist. Ron felt a slap on the back of the head as his wand was wrenched out of his grip.
“ ‘ello, what do we ‘ave here? Now who’d be fool enough to walk straight into a gang of Snatchers?”
Gulping, Ron turned to see five ill-kempt wizards surrounding him.
Oh no, thought Ron. He was in trouble. Snatchers were gangs who tried to earn gold by rounding up Muggle-borns and blood traitors. They would drag him to the Ministry the moment they figured out that they had Harry Potter’s best friend in their custody. He quickly told them the name of the first person he could think of.
“I’m Stan Shunpike,” Ron said shakily. He coughed and made an effort to sound more confident.
“My name is Stan Shunpike,” Ron repeated, more convincingly this time.
“What’s your blood status?”
“Pureblood,” said Ron.
A couple of the Snatchers looked at each other, defeated, until one stepped forward. This one was definitely part troll; the odor rolling off of him nearly made Ron gag.
“That’s not Stan Shunpike,” the smelly one said gruffly.
“But the kid just said he was!”
“Like ’ell ‘e is,” said another man. “We know Stan Shunpike, ’e’s put a bit of work our way.” He snorted. “And ‘e ain’t no schoolboy.”
“Yeah, I remember. Used to drive the Knight Bus, he did. Got a face like a greasy pizza that’s nicked all over from shaving.”
“You filthy liar,” shouted the one holding onto Ron. “We’ll be taking you to the Ministry.”
“No,” said the smelly one. “Look at his hair. A Weasley this one is. Blood traitors. Strong supporters of Potter, the lot of them. To hell with the Ministry. They’ll take the credit, and we won’t get a look in. I say we take him straight to You-Know-Who.”
Overwhelmed with fear, Ron wished more than anything that he hadn’t left Hermione and Harry.

§

Having been a prisoner in the dungeon of Malfoy Manor for over three hours, Ron blinked as he found himself being thrown into a brightly lit drawing room of wide proportions. The portraits on the dark purple walls watched him curiously as the Snatchers dragged him forwards. A woman across the room rose from an armchair in front of a gilded marble fireplace. She must have been beautiful once, but the crazed look in her eyes destroyed that. Ron recognized her.

When Bellatrix Lestrange spoke, the sound of her voice wound Ron’s fear to an even higher pitch.
“Who are you?” she demanded, quite haughtily.
“Merely a humble servant, my lady,” said the smelly one.
Bellatrix nodded, walking slowly around Ron and surveying him carefully.
“And who might this be?” she asked softly.
“Claimed his name was Stan Shunpike, he did, but that’s a lie. Look at his red hair. We’ve caught a Weasley boy, my lady. Pureblood, but his family are known supporters and close friends of Harry Potter.”
At the mention of Harry Potter, Bellatrix shrieked.
“A friend of Potter?” she backed away, the better to take in Ron. “Are you sure?”
Slowly, Bellatrix smiled cruelly. “Yes, I see the resemblance to the old fat cow that married into your traitorous family. Blood traitor is next to Mudblood in my book.”
“Don’t you dare talk about my mother like that!” shouted Ron.
Bellatrix’s eyes grew wide, and she chuckled in glee like a mad woman. “You are a Weasley. You stupid boy. Now, you’re going to tell me how to find Harry Potter.”
“Never!” Ron bellowed. "I won't tell you anything!"
Bellatrix raised her wand.
“Where is Harry Potter? ANSWER ME!” Without waiting for a response, she cast the spell. “CRUCIO!”
The pain was so intense, as if flaming daggers were stabbing every inch of his skin simultaneously. After being cursed a couple of times, Ron almost forgot to keep silent. By the sheer force of his willpower, he focused completely on keeping silent to protect his friends, clenching his teeth so hard they felt as if they would shatter. As Ron fisted his hands so tightly that his fingernails cut into his skin, he wished desperately that he had never left Harry and Hermione in the forest after saying those terrible things. The only way to make it up to them now was to keep quiet.
When he finally felt like his head was going to explode from the inside, his screams, louder than any other screams in his life, echoed across the drawing room.
He never noticed the tall figure with white-blonde hair across the room cringe each time Bellatrix cast the curse. Nor did Ron see the pale and pointed face that was full of reluctance at seeing the young Weasley tortured… and then full of cruel joy.
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The Devil's Obsession