The Dark Side of the Bookmark

by hyperfixated_now_I_am_here

Summary:

Hermione Granger is sick of the Order and all its bullshit, so she must choose to defect and flee Europe, or join the Death Eaters. Hermione starts to think that the latter would suit her more indelicate sensibilities.

Notes:

Set in 2001 - Three years after the failed battle of Hogwarts.

This goes without saying but this is inspired by ‘Apostasy’ by @Deydralinne

Chapter 1: A SWOT analysis of epic proportions

Order HQ – 12 Grimmauld Place

How many times do one's plans – rather brilliant plans if we are being frank – have to be ignored before one can simply tell the brilliant plan ignorers to bog the fuck off! Hermione Granger has decided that the immeasurable number of times Kingsley, Harry, Ron and the rest of the self-interested Order have dismissed he has finally reached the tipping point.

 

Why you ask? Oh well if the last 3 years since the spectacular failure of the battle Hogwarts was any indication the Order seems far more interested in making its male leaders feel smart and acting out in pissy fights with the Dark Lords army instead of fighting for the ‘light’ or whatever bullshit they had sold them.

 

Hermione is well aware that this is a ridiculous notion for her to have, of course, the side fighting against the people who deem her unworthy of her magic, who sneer at the thought of muggles being any less than beasts, and who worship at the feet of a reincarnation of a once hot now snakey looking racist bigot. Did I say hot, well can’t blame a girl when all you’ve got for male company is a bunch of shit for brains, self-involved gits that honestly are no competition to the snakes. Mmmmm the snakes – now don’t tell anyone because Hermione will deny it with her dying breath but - a certain few snakes, no matter how pratty, or blonde had always been quite pretty in Hermione’s mind.

 

So Hermione is now faced with three choices – but really staying with the Order isn’t a viable one anymore, especially after her catastrophic outburst after the latest failed mission – so two choices. Defect and flee Europe or Defect to the Death Eaters.

 

This sort of situation requires a pro-con list – NO – better yet a S.W.O.T analysis, yes that is the perfect way to choose her next steps!

 

Ok, first up strengths:
For defecting
- Being free of the Order!
- Not having to look at any of the Weasley’s faces – especially not Ronald's.
- Free of the pawing hands of Cormac Mclaggen!
For fleeing Europe
- Being nowhere near the Order or the bloody war ever again!
- Not being fucking cold all the fucking time (Peru does sound lovely).
For joining the Death Eaters
- Unsurprisingly few – apart from seeing her secret Slytherin study buddy – but the opportunities section should wield more results!

 

Weaknesses:
Defecting
- None, she could not care any less so they can all sod off!
Fleeing Europe
- Not being able to kill Ronald Weasley!
- Potential for boredom?
- Actually, being able to find her parents - and fix them?
- What other excuse could she come up with for using a cheeky unforgivable or two?
Joining the Death Eaters
- Potential chance of being killed/tortured/maimed/ and other unfortunate things immediately upon arrival.
- Bullying.
- Blonde Prat finding out she’s got the hots for him.

 

Opportunities – yes there will be many:
Fleeing Europe
- Learn a new Language, or three.
- Actually start a life – heck she is twenty-one and still hasn’t lived a normal day in over four years.
Joining the Death Eaters
- Gaining some control over the rather indelicate curses that had formed her recent fascination.
- Using everything she knows about the Order to the Death Eaters and her own advantage.
- Being able to kick some Weasley ass and eventually one day being able to send a lovely sliver of green light towards Ronald Weasley’s stupid face.
- Maybe just maybe Blonde Prat liking her back.

 

Threats
Fleeing Europe
- The war spreading to wherever she is.
- Some other wizards being cunts wherever she goes.
Joining the Death Eaters
- Her connection to the living world via the wrath of a bunch of crazy people.
- The wrath of the Order when they find out their prized mud blood has joined the people who hate her kind.

 

Looking down at her parchment, her now empty quill in hand, the answer – though laughable – was as clear to her as day.

 

Yes, well that has made up her mind; but for a successful transfer of sides, one must first plan. The first thing Hermione needs to do is start gathering information, because though she knows many many things, the Order does not tell her everything, but for her perfect plan of information exchange the information must be reliable – so some sleuthing is in Order.

 

Next, to ascertain certainty of a non-torturous welcome party to the Dark Lord’s army one must have a contact – lucky for Hermione that Theo Nott was her super secret study buddy up until mid-sixth year. If Harry and Ron thought that their book-wormy friend didn’t have anyone with her in the library apart from when they joined her only to complain – well, they were very wrong. The contacting of said study buddy was a bit of a conundrum, until Hermione remembered their secret code sent through charmed bookmarks, now Hermione of course would never dare to dog-ear a book and Theodore was of the same belief that such sins were unforgivable so surely, surely he would have kept the gift she had made for him all the way back in third year, right?

 

-Dearest Tie, I fear I bore with my side of certain choices. Any room for me in the snake pit? Love, Hanger -

 

---

 

Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire

 

There is categorically no way this is happening right now – fuck – fuck – oh shit.

 

Theodore Nott had a glass of Draco’s third oldest Ogdens in his hand five seconds after re-reading Granger’s message for the fifth time because there is no way the swotty, golden princess of Gryffindor, his former secret study buddy and even more secretly (even to her) best friend is saying what he thinks she is saying!

 

ALSO, she still has the bookmark – oh his book-loving heart melts – Theo remembers the day she produced them in January of their third year, after starting a non-committal studying situation in November of that year, the great swot was over the inconsistency and secretly Theo thought perhaps a little lonely after their Christmas break. Their coded language was of his own making, and he was extremely happy when Hermione flung herself at him for his genius. The nicknames came later on, over the summer of that year when both of the swots (let's be honest Theo could not deny he existed on the scale) were particularly lonely.

 

“What’s so interesting on that old ass bookmark that has got your knickers in a twist Theodore?” Blaise’s usual gentle entrances stirred Theo out of his thoughts. “Quickly before I tell Drake that you raided his liquor cabinet again!” Blaise stated, knocking his foot against Theo’s outstretched legs.

 

“Oh darling, how I have missed your sweet sweet words. Though I fear we may need Draco at this very moment, there is a lion in need of rescuing.” Theo’s eyes scrutinised Blaise’s every movement, discerning his reaction.

 

And reaction he got. “Theo?” Blaise responded, accusatory in his question. “Since when have you had a lion in your eye? I mean honestly who would be speaking to you through a fucking bookmark?” It was at this moment Draco sauntered into the drawing room.

 

“What’s this about lions and bookmarks? Theo you aren’t reading that muggle book about wardrobes again are you?” The disgusted tone – a mechanism built up over Draco’s years of indoctrination - masked any true feelings associated with the muggles, especially since Theo knew Draco and his need to consume books almost as fast as Granger.

 

“Well you see lads, we may have a refugee – a fantastically smart one, pretty too if that’s your kinda slice – who may want to join our merry band” The looks on both the boys' faces told Theo that if he didn’t cut the crap and give some straight answers he was not going to be forgiven for the whiskey or his fairy language anytime soon. “So you see back in Hogwarts, I may have …collected an unusual friend who was a very good study partner, but well… you both wouldn’t have approved so I kept her my little secret. This” he says holding up the bookmark “was our way to communicate, and it seems the lion finds the snake pit a more preferable home.”

 

“Theo if you don’t tell me who the fuck thinks joining the Death Eaters would be a far more enjoyable time than prancing around with the Order right now I am going to hit you!” Draco stated his brow furrowing as he tried to unriddle the secret so long held.

 

“Well you see Hermio-“

 

A choking sound, a chair screeching across the hardwood floor, and a hyena-type laugh from Blaise accompanied Draco's shocked interruption “GRANGER?!”

 

“Yes Granger, she was actually a lot more fun than you sometimes Draco. Anyway, Hermione and I have been friends since third year, and you see she and I had to keep the whole thing very hush-hush, not just from the snakes but also her pride of lions. So when everything happened back in sixth year she sent me her last message-” ‘I’m going away tie, I probably won't see you again, but maybe when the war is over. I’ll miss you, Hanger.’ “That was until just now, where it seems that the Order – more likely Potter and Weasel – have not been utilising that beautiful brain of hers.”

 

“No shock there, they’ve been fucking useless the last year and a half – not a chance any of those were her ideas” Blaise ruminated – at least he respects her brain.

 

“Yes, thank you, and now it seems that she thinks that the darker side of this here bookmark will be more her speed.”

 

“Probably wants to enjoy more of Draco’s winning personality.” The payment for that statement was a swift kick to Blaise’s shin. “Ow fuck, I know you’re not a lanky cunt anymore, but your feet are still fucking pointy!”

 

“What the fuck does Granger think she can do here, surely she doesn’t think we will all just except her muddy blood here” Theo’s glass was now dry and dripping off the rim, its content sprayed over the blonde-haired prat. “What the f-”

 

“DO NOT CALL HER THAT!” Theo’s hackles were raised, his protective instincts on full alert after having to dull them all these years. “You will not call her that anymore Draco I swear to Merlin! I had to listen to your abuse of her for years! I had to sit in the furthest corner of the library, under some of the strongest disillusionment I have ever witnessed and hold her as she cried over the bullying you, Parkinson and the rest of the bloody snakes dealt out to her! So you will not call her that again, yes?” With the shocked nod of agreement from Draco, and for safety Blaise, finalised that.

 

“Right ok whatever, do you really think she would actually join us, honestly? I’m not saying she isn’t smart – bloody witch took the top spot in everything but potions – nor am I saying she can’t hold her owner, not since she’s kept the dunder-twins alive since first year. I mean she is a muggle-born Theo – literally the object of ire to our cause – and not only that she is THE muggle-born, Potter’s mud-muggle-born. Do you really think that Voldemort would let her live for even a second if she came here, let alone join us?”

 

“I don’t know ok Draco, really! This just happened, I’m still processing the fact I got a message from the person I secretly thought of as my best friend for the first time in over four years – sorry boys she was – so don’t go all flying off the broom on me ok!”

 

“What if we met up with her first, and saw how your little lion has faired, surely the birds' nest couldn’t have gotten worse?” Theo couldn’t hit Blaise for his jab, he had affectionately said her hair alone should have landed her in Ravenclaw tower many a time.

 

“Draco?”

 

“Yeah fine” he sighed with resignation, “a secret meeting with the princess, what’s the harm?”

 

So the message was sent back to the little lion, the meeting time and place already suggested, and now all they had to do was wait…

Notes:

References made to:
- DMATMOOBIL by @isthisselfcare
- Love actually - use Keira’s voice if you can find it lol
- The lion, the witch, and the wardrobe by C.S. Lewis

Chapter 2: Three snakes, a pub, and their lion

Notes:

Opps so this took ages, and I just kinda have no idea what I’m doing, but enjoy x

Bude, Cornwall

 

Draco, Theo and Blaise has been posted up at the bar in the small costal town for the last hour, not because Hermione was late – in all his years of knowing her she had never been late (unless Tweddle Dee and dumb were involved) – no Draco just HAD to be there before her.

 

---

 

“No boys we have to be there an hour before, at least, maybe an hour and a half … yes that’s the plan!”

 

“Draco this is literally my thing!” A few conspiratorial glances his way lead to Theo’s correction, “Ok not saying Hermione is my thing, I mean, this meeting is only happening because of me, and Granger is my friend, and she reached out to me!”

 

“Draco will play nice won’t you” Blaise cooed at Draco like he was a dog – a sure fire route to a pissed off ferret, (the Gryffindors nickname for him that Theo would only ever use in private – i.e. with Hermione) “that’s a good boy”

 

“Fuck offfff Zab” a growl, ok maybe it’s a dragon today?

 

“Boys, boys, we are missing the point, we are meeting Hermione in three hours! We have no idea what she thinks about you two, she still loves me of course, but you Draco, Salazar, we need to figure out how to play that card.”

 

Theo knew of Hermione’s crush, he never told her, nor any other soul or inanimate object, but she was a shit liar and anytime the ferret got brought up she would winge and whine all about him to the point Theo decided that she must be absolutely curls over ‘sensible shoes’ for him if she knew that much about him from just observation. ‘Oh Theo he has so much sugar in his tea its preposterous!’ , ‘ugh and the way he always checks out the books I want from the library first, and hangs onto them – I bet he prances around with them to shove it in my face I can’t read the damn things!’, ‘I mean honestly can he shut up about his daddy for five bloody seconds – I swear Theo I bet he makes girls call him daddy in bed I JUST KNOW IT! Arghhh!’

 

I was all quite hilarious to Theo, mainly because Draco had snuck many a girl into their dorm, but none of them had ever used that name. Draco did ‘prance around’ with the books Hermione wanted just to piss her off, and the boys sweet tooth was legendary. All of which Theo kept to himself for fear of tooth decay rants, rakish behaviour analyses and any sort of Freudian (whoever that was) lectures.

 

The thing Theo most enjoyed about Hermione’s little hate crush was that it was fully reciprocated by the ferret/dragon that she so ‘loathed’. So, both his friends chewed his ear off about the other endlessly and Theo revealed in it, certain wizards such as Blaise would have gotten so fed up he would have stuffed them in a broom cupboard and warded it shut till they snogged or killed each other, not Theo though. No he waited, patiently like the good little snake he was and now the little feral beasties would finally, finally be forced into something.

 

So after much comprise by everyone but Draco, they left a full hour and a half early and set up shop in a booth at the very back of the little pub. With much bemoaning about the lack of fire-whiskey and butterbeer for both un-muggle-educated wizards, so Theo set them up with a collection of half pints of Cornish cider (red and green rattler of course), as well as whatever they had on tap, and Scotlands finest scotch (the most expensive he could and an experimental American tumbler of the good amber stuff.

 

And as if by magic Hermione Granger herself walked through the bar half an hour early – typical really – wearing… oh the cheeky little minx!

 

---

 

It is going to be fine, they are not going to kill me, Draco is not going to make me blush my socks off, Theo and I will go back to the way we were, and Zabini will not do the thing where he talks in Italian over me so I can’t even argue!

 

This was the mantra Hermione had repeated to herself for the last twenty four hours, the only thing keeping her sane. Mainly because the order had pissed her off so much that she could snap at any moment, and also because she was so bloody anxious, desperate to know if the feeler she put out would be accepted or if this was just some cruel joke.

 

So as she donned her tightest black muggle jeans and the tightest fuck-me jumper she owned (completely coincidentally in green), chucking on the daintily-heeled  black sling backs that she had found in a charity shop during one of her many sulks, and apparated to the town and marched her pretty perky arse into the bar (at least she hoped Malfoy would think it was pretty and perky – gods she needed to sort herself out)!

 

The three wizards, surrounded by a sea of half drunk glasses, with varying degrees of shock on their faces was quite the ego boost for Hermione as she sauntered up to their table. Theo looked like he could cry, god she had missed him, Blaise looked…well impressed?…wary? She wasn’t really sure, But Malfoy, his was the one that would carry the most weight and by Merlin did she achieve her first mission of leaving him absolutely speechless.

 

---

 

Bloody Salazar she was too perfect, honestly if she whipped out her wand and Avada’ed someone right now he would cum. But Draco could not let her know this, the Gryffindor princess would not react kindly to any of his perverse thoughts, and Theo would in fact Avada him if he fucked this up. So Draco resolved himself to the familiar territory of prattyness.

 

“Really trying to sell the whole bad girl thing with the green aren’t you Granger” he sneered, and the look of victory on her face dissolved into a new sort of look, not the one she gave him when he first called her mudblood or all the times when he went about pissing off potter and weasel. No this look was very new and Draco would have been less shocked if she had swung for him like she did back in third year, instead…

 

“Well if the shoe fits Malfoy, though I fear it does suit my complexion more than you, don’t go cry to daddy about it though.”

 

Daddy – Salazar fuck he was in trouble – because if he wanted Granger to call anyone that, he wanted it to be him. Which is an odd thought because that had never been his thing before, but his possessive, obsessive monster gnawed at the bit to say ‘oh Granger you can always come crying to daddy’ but that would be stupid, and Draco Malfoy was not stupid – never, not once, especially never for the golden princess.

 

“Oh you wound me princess, but it would be particularly challenging since you did kill him six months ago, no?” Hah her bravado faded away now, maybe she was scared – well that was better than having one up on him Draco surmised.

 

“Yes … well … urm…”

 

“Sit down Granger, and quit the koi fish impression yeah?” Blaise drawled as he patted the empty spot next to him in the booth.

 

“Right, yes, ok.”

 

Draco would have preferred she sit next to him, why did Blaise get the fun of seeing her perfect arse sitting next to him, ‘grrrr’ went his monster. But now the the golden girl was a bit more subdued and Draco wasn’t sure if he should be more or less scared about that.

 

 

She had in fact forgotten about that particular kill, to be fair it had joined a rather extended list at this point, the names, faces, and reasons behind each death meant so little to her now. Not after all she had been through, no, it all blurred into one black oozing wound festering with all the other scars left by the people she had once loved.

 

Sitting here with the only friend she might have left in the world, her longtime crush/childhood bully, and their poncy Italian friend (he wasn’t that bad really…smelled quite nice too actually), was like a balm to the wound placed upon her soul. Theo’s warm eyes scanned her now, she felt him dissecting her appearance, the way her shoulders were slumped, the black (once blue) under-eyes no glamour could hide, the fact she kept unconsciously pushing her sleeves up and then quickly yanking them down again as she remembered herself. Godric this was not going to be easy, why had she not thought more about this specific moment, sure she had planned everything up to and after this but not being here. ‘Stupid witch’ Hermione admonished herself, how could you be this foolish!

 

“So Granger, what on earth did Weaslbee and Potter do to send you scurrying over to us hmm?”

 

She tried not to flinch at their names, she really did. Showing or even indicating that particular scar would not be conducive to a speedy and efficient meeting in which certain topics were not broached. Alas, they all noticed it. Blaise tensed next to her, Theo’s grip on his glass turned white, and Draco’s piercing grey eyes turned silver and sharp.

 

Well fuck.

Notes:

Ok I promise BAMF Hermione will be in this fic!

Chapter 3: Beasty you are a scary, scary witch

Notes:

T. W. mention of Noncon, Torture, Abuse etc.

 

“Granger” the growl was practically instinctual at this point because What. The. Fuck. Had the fucking Order done to her that she flinched? FLINCHED! At the mention of her previous best friends. A wide and frankly concerning number of possibilities ran through Draco’s head of what they had done to her, and what he would be doing in return.

 

Fuck, she looked smaller now, where had the fierce lioness that stalked through the door of the pub gone? The one that had strutted through the halls of Hogwarts, that had become the executioner of death eaters on the fields of battle? WHERE WAS SHE AND … Draco’s thoughts reeled themselves back in as Theo stretched out across the table and slowly tried to slip into Granger’s shaking hands, but they retracted. Her arms slinking their way around her torso grasping at the nape of her neck as if to squeeze the thoughts that plagued her out by sheer force.

 

“Hermione please look at me” Theo spoke so quietly, as if she were a timid dog, “Please Hanger, it’s me Tie, I’m here for you, always have, always will, please?” Theo’s pleas were met with the smallest rise of her head, her warm golden eyes were bloodshot and dull, her breaths short and rough… fuck.

 

---

 

Theo’s heart broke then, looking at his best friend, knowing that she had been hurt so much that the normally stoic (regarding public crying) Gryffindor would show them all such vulnerability. Standing up from his seat next to Draco, lifting her in his arms and sitting next to Blaise with her tucked into his chest Theo realised just how small she was in so many ways now.

 

Her hair felt brittle as he stroked it, her spine protruded, and it felt as if a small cat had sat upon his lap and not the beautiful and brilliant girl, (woman now!) he had once known. The bruises that she’d clearly tried to hide poking out from every stitch of material as if her whole body could be black and blue underneath her clothes.

 

“Tie please” her sobs only increased, and her grip tightened around his muggle hoodie that was now soaked through.

 

“It’s ok Hanger, it’s alright, we’ve got you now yeah, they can’t hurt you again.” his soft words for her did not match the feeling of quiet rage that simmered beneath the surface. As he looked up at the fear-stricken face of Zabini, and the outwardly seething Draco, he knew then the Order would pay.

 

---

 

It took a long time for Hermione to calm down enough that her breathing returned to almost normal, and the grip of her skeletal fingers loosened enough that Theo could try to move her to sit snug between Zabini and himself, but she didn’t want to move from his comforting hold, so he relented. Draco had cast a muffliato around the booth during her outburst and had left at one point to order some food and water for her. The shame that filled her was chased out by the boys every time it began to rise back up within her throughout the next forty minutes, in which she did not speak or sob, but simply drank the water and ate the burger and chips placed before her.

 

“I don’t want to talk about it right now.” Determination was what she hoped to push through with her words, though defeat and shame seemed to linger on her inflexions. “I just…I just… I need to get out, and I can’t think about it all right now, let alone speak about it without self-destructing, so please, just – “

 

“It’s alright Granger, we won’t ask, just please tell us what we can do” Draco’s eyes were soft now, the rage she had seen melting away.

 

“Help me end the Order. I don’t care where I go, as long as I can cast my curse at Ro-r-Ron” her stutter breaking through her false façade of strength. “I could join the Death Eaters, or I could raize both and leave just us and the innocents caught in the crosshairs. I just cannot let them live.” Determination refilling her veins as she looked up at Draco, it was almost as if his magic floated across to her, revitalizing her in a way she didn’t know was possible.

 

“We can do that little lion; we can do that.” Was the silver-haired snake’s reply.

 

“We can play this by your rules Beasty, I for one only care that this table, Pansy, Daphne and Astoria make it out of this war.” Blaise Zabini’s solum oath brought a new respect for him to Hermione’s heart – though Beasty was not her favourite of nicknames.

 

“Lion, Beasty?”

 

“Hey if Theo gets a pet name for you, so do we” Ah only-child syndrome was clearly still part of the Malfoy charm it seemed.

 

“They are so jealous Hanger,” Theo whispered into her ear with mock superiority.

 

---

 

“Right boys enough with silly names, we need a plan. Do we bring Hermione to the Dark Lord as our feral little thing ready to hunt, maim and execute the Order, especially with all the information you may have my little swot? Or do we get you somewhere safe and go full-scale wipeout on both sides?” Theo was unsure of the right course of action, but as long as she did not return to the Order, he would take any suggestions.

 

“I don’t know how receptive the dark lord will be to her. I mean Granger what even is your kill count at this point?” Blaise’s curiosity of the lioness was both reverent and cautious.

 

“Well, urm, for marked Death Eaters, I am at thirty, including your father, sorry not sorry Malfoy. Wolves, snatchers and other beasts I think I hit seventy last month? They all started blending together, that’s why I stopped with the Avada’s as much, slicing hexes and muggle means deplete my core less.” The shock and awe on the boy’s faces almost made her laugh, “I guess, as well, I got in less trouble if I didn’t use unforgivables, so it helped me on both ends.”

 

The growl of repressed anger from across the table was not totally unexpected with her final comment.

 

“Right well, you are a very scary little witch, but I think we can sell it to the Dark Lord. We just need to play it right, and you need some information, something damning enough that we can prove your loyalty.” Hermione could see Draco planning out everything, his face relaxed and open for once, just like it was during potions in Fifth year, it was the only class he ever bested her in.

 

“I will honestly do whatever it takes, since waiting for this meeting I have been picking around the war room at HQ and eavesdropping on conversations, I have a lot to share, but once the Order realises, I have switched I cannot say what will stay the same, and HQ is the first place they will ditch.”

 

“Right then little Beasty, share with us, and we can plan what we share and what we hold back for later dates, the Order and the Dark Lord do not know what they are missing out on with you.” Blaise shot her a wink, and the information she had been hoarding for days, weeks, and months finally could be shared.

 

---

 

Striding through Malfoy Manor, a flailing witch over his shoulder and two wizards on his six Draco Malfoy pushed through the doors to the ballroom where the Dark Lord sat upon his throne.

 

“YOU SAID I COULD KILL HARRY NOW!” The screaming banshee kicked and hit as he got closer and closer to the dais. “DRACO MALFOY, I DID NOT LEAVE THE BLOODY ORDER TO BE SWUNG OVER YOUR SHOULDER YOU IGNORANT PRAT!”

 

“Hush now, our feral little Beasty, Potter will die along with that ginger-haired twat soon enough, but you have to be ladylike and say hello first before you go shooting green lights on them, yes?” The darker wizard cooed to her, his smirk – which Draco could hear without seeing – clearly directed straight to their little actress – they had to really sell it.

 

“Draco, my boy, what gift have you brought me, and why is it so loud?” The Dark Lord rose from his seat and practically slithered to the edge of the dais.

 

“My lord,” Draco said setting down his- wait – the little lion, and kneeling before him “I have brought you the executioner of the Order, who has willingly come to us, come to you my Lord, to return the favour.”

 

“Tom,” of course, Granger would not follow all of his instructions the insurable Gryffindor that she was. Standing before the Dark Lord, arms crossed and hip jutted out, still in her extremely fuckable outfit, though draped in Draco’s outer robes. “what Malfoy says is true, the Order will fall, and I will give you the key to its demise. All I ask is forgiveness of my previous actions and of course, my dirty blood – not that you are pure too –" What the FUCK GRANGER “-but I think this could be a very beneficial arrangement for all involved.”

 

The silence that washed over the room was honestly chokingly hostile, Draco heard Theo rise and drag Granger down to bow before the Dark Lord, hoping to counteract some of her absolute insanity and lessen his outburst.

 

“Draco my boy, does the mudblood speak the truth?” His slithering crackling voice compelled Draco to look up, “What could possibly cause Potter’s mudblood to come to us and seek his death?” Draco felt his mind being probed, and he let the Lord in just enough to see the anger, but not the pain he had witnessed earlier that day.

 

The vibrations off Granger’s body upon being called 'Potter's' were unmistakable, and Draco hoped it was not missed. He wanted the other death eaters to see just how much she hated Harry fucking Potter.

 

“My Lord, she is a most powerful witch, by her count she has killed thirty of your marked and seventy of our other troops, but the Order seems to not be so light as they try to project. She has confirmed to us the location of their base, though we are bound by vows not to share this until we agree on her position in your army.” Draco hoped he had conveyed the right amount of respect for her to sell her use, but also to maintain his respect for the easily enraged wizard before him.

 

“WE CANNOT LET HER FILTH INTO YOUR ARMY, MY LORD!” The desperate cry of his not-so-dear Aunt Bella reverberated across the hall, and Draco could see Granger’s hair start to spark with what he guessed was pure hatred and rage. “YOU CANNOT BELIEVE HER MY LORD! IT IS A TRICK!” Her deranged gaze fell upon Draco and the men he called brothers, “WHAT HAS SHE DONE! WHAT HAS SHE SPELLED YOU WITH NEPHEW!”

 

“ENOUGH!” The bellowing sound of the Dark Lord’s impatience silenced his most loyal follower, and any mutterings around the hall. “I will search her mind, come mudblood, let me see and don’t fight. I would hate to scramble what has been called the brightest mind of your generation.”

 

Rising from her bow and crossing the final steps, Granger looked up at the Dark Lord on his dais, opening her eyes and letting him in.

 

She crumpled immediately, blood spilling from her nose, Theo’s flinch in his periphery concerned Draco, but he stopped when he realised that Granger was not fighting, she seemed peaceful even, with no screams and flailing limbs like most of the Dark Lord’s legilimency victims.

 

---

 

It felt like a blade slicing through her brain, but Hermione Granger was a master of many things, blades, curses, hexes, books, and languages, but what few knew was her overtly obsessive Occlumency protections. No person had ever entered her mind without her permission – apart from that one very painful time that she does not want to think of now – and any that do enter only see what she wants them to. The true testament of her power was that it felt natural to an outside observer, one would even think it a mind untouched by the art, hidden beneath that façade was of course a library of memories, organised far beyond the dewy decimal system, but no visitor would ever know. Voldemort was no different, she allowed him to see her power and skill in battle, her rigorous and solo training, and parts of the abuse she suffered at the hands of her friends and the rest of the Order.

 

When the Dark Lord was satisfied with what he saw he pulled out of her mind. “Your Occlumency is very strong my dear, so few would even know you have perfected it I dare say?”

 

“You are the first to notice…My Lord.” The pause in speech was both an adjustment to her possible position and to hoist herself from the ground.

 

“Yes well, my legilimency is unparalleled, just as your Occlumency is, I wonder what you have hidden in that mind of yours? You will show me soon, yes?” The question was more of a demand, but Hermione knew it would come to that between them.

 

Wiping the blood from her nose, without concern, “Yes, my Lord, though I wouldn’t want to give away the order secrets without a bit of protection first. you understand of course?” Her supplication to the snake-like man was so obvious, she hoped he would buy it.

 

“I think I would like to test your skills Miss Granger, see if you are fully committed to me.” His snake eyes were full of curiosity as if he could read a thing on her composed face, “Scabior, bring me the redhead! I want to see what our executioner will do, try, and impress me Miss Granger I have heard so much about you.”

 

---

 

Theo was running through the names of Order members, specifically Weasley’s, that were under the Dark Lord’s capture, Bill – no he was safe, Charlie – nope, Percy – the arse was still alive somehow, the twins - still breathing out there somewhere, Ronald – unfortunately alive, Ginevra – oh, oh this would not be good.

 

The little that Hermione had told them in the time they had, had not painted a pretty picture of the firecracker. Selling her out to the Order, picking fights, and spewing outright lies to Hermione’s previous closest friends, all of which had led to his Hanger’s abuse and pain. No, if they drag her out of the dungeons, then the whole of the hall would be as red as her hair.

 

Fuck, right well, at least they will be one Weasley down, because there she was, snarling at Granger.

 

“Oh Ginny, hah, Harry had really cut me deep when I lost you on our last mission together. An accident of course.” Hermione looked about as deranged as Bellatrix, which was frankly quite concerning to him. “I did try to explain to him it wasn’t my fault, that his idiot girlfriend didn’t listen to my fucking orders! Be that as it may, when he snuck into my room the next night, and stuck his prick in me, saying I’d lost his hole, so I had to replace you. Well, as I’m sure you know it wasn’t his first time, but I promise it will be his last.” Her speech had the whole hall silent, and her stealthy steps towards Ginny were missed by practically everyone, until she had flipped her over her shoulder, dumping her on the floor and preceding to pin her down, both of her arms above her head pinned with one surprisingly strong hand.

 

“Yes, my Lord has given me a very good prize to show my worth.” Looking up as she smiled (fuck she looked possessed), up at the Dark Lord, caressing Ginny’s cheek, “You see Ginny, I have gotten quite fed up with your dear little Order, and so I thought I’d reach out to my friends here. Nothing comes for free though dear Ginny, and you are my price. More like a gift for me really, but I won’t tell if you don’t.” The exaggerated whisper as she leant down to Ginny’s ear was seriously concerning. But the head butt the Weaslette tried to give her seemed to pull Hermione out of her state. “Oh Ginny, none of that please!” She commanded as she grabbed onto her head with her free hand, smashing it back onto the hard marble floor with a sickening crunch.

 

“I want to have some fun and that sort of nonsense will ruin it for me! Here, let me remind you just how much I went through because of you and your ginger minge.” Pulling a knife from somewhere on her body, Granger promptly stabbed Ginevra between the legs, “Oh yes I remember the first time you ratted me out, then the second, but the third, oh the third brought your brother to my bed in the med bay, yes they were very confused the next day to find me with a whole new set of wounds.” The sound of Ginny’s screams forcing past the silencio, that Hermione had apparently cast at some point, pitched to a horrifying level as she dragged the blade up to her navel, cutting cunt to stomach without an inch of resistance from the blade or body. “Yes, that was just the start of it though my dear, then came the nightly beatings, the secret meetings, I think you all tried to sabotage me on a few occasions in battle.” The blade had been removed but was now circling the ginger’s chest, and Hermione sliced through the rank and stained shirt she wore, exposing the girl’s body, and the new wound that was gushing blood.

 

Looking down, Hermione must have realised, because she sent a semi-stasis charm to the wound, allowing a slow trickle of blood and ooze out, “Oh don’t look at me like that, I want to make my point Ginevra, can’t do that with you dying out on me so soon.” The point of her blade scraped around the ginger’s breast cutting the flesh out, “The boys always told me you were the prettier one, Harry, Seamus, Dean, even your brothers you dirty girl, but they all came to visit me in the dark, oh yes, I fought of course, but they never did seem to play fair. Don’t worry Ginny, you can be as ugly on the outside as I am on the inside.”

 

The hall was silent apart from Hermione and whatever sounds Ginny was making. Draco and Blaise stood on either side of Theo, each of them holding the other back as Hermione revealed even more than she had previously shared. The other Death Eaters seemed either turned on, enthused, and some even seemed shocked, whether that was from the Golden Girl’s actions or her story, Theo could not tell. The Dark Lord however, his glee, manic as it was, could not have been mistaken, yes, he was very happy with his new toy indeed.

 

---

 

The torture went on for hours, Granger seemed to forget about the world around her as she worked away on the Weaslette. Draco almost couldn’t believe she found new pieces of skin to cut, and various ways to partially heal her. The conclusion of her performance was truly horrifying indeed, as she stood from the girl, imperio'd her to rise and fight Hermione with all her might, but as Granger placed her wand in the Weaslette’s hand, Draco doubted her for the first time that night, but by Merlin did she outshine them.

 

Her wandless magic was so powerful that she cast duel-handed, spewing curses and hexes simultaneously. Ginevra could hardly deflect let alone attack, but it was her wandless Avada that left the hall in stunned and horrified silence. The bloody naked body of Ginevra Weasley lay on the cold and once-white marble floor right in front of the dais, and as the sound of the Dark Lord’s slow applause, it seemed like Granger finally returned from the sick place in her mind.

 

“Yes, Miss Granger you will do nicely here with us.”

 

Notes:

tehehe updates on both my wips! Sorry ive been away, but I hope you like this chapter!

Chapter 4: I am so sorry they are still breathing.

Notes:

Mentions of all the traumatic shit Hermione's body has been through, if you want me to list safe start, stop and resume points let me know in the comments.

The marking ceremony was quick, unlike all the others Theo had witnessed. Hermione’s was silent; she did not scream or writhe as the black ink was burned into already marred flesh, all those watching did not make a sound; the silence of the hall was deafening.

 

She was silent the entire time, unless called upon to speak the vows and thank the Dark Lord after he presented her with the fresh Death Eater robes and mask. The latter was an unparalleled beauty compared to the other masks given to the Dark Lord's servants. Gold instead of silver, the mouth was open, with sharp teeth showing through, as if it were part lion, but the face was as beautiful as it was chilling. The eye sockets were large and open, allowing her huge doe eyes to shine through; the hardened features of the other masks were missing, and instead, she looked ethereal.

 

“Just like you, my dear, beautiful yet deadly. I do not need your mask to create fear, you are the epitome of the word, but when you look upon our enemies, when you curse and kill them, they will do it looking upon your beauty and be terrified.”

 

---

 

Walking out of the grand hall, Hermione looked strong; she did not falter from the moment she entered hours ago, up until the doors shut behind the group of four. At which point, she almost collapsed into Draco’s arms. Eyes closed and with heavy breaths, she begged them for sleep.

 

Theo was fretting about her as Draco lifted her into his arms and carried her to his wing of the manor. She didn’t look so troubled now as she had during their meeting, but she looked infinitely smaller, more fragile than Draco thought she would ever want to be. Blaise walked ahead in case any stray Death Eaters were lurking around a corner, and Theo brushing alongside Draco, pulling Hermione’s hair from her face, “It’s alright Hanger, you rest ok, you were so brave, it’s alright.”

 

Reaching Draco’s wing, where Theo also stayed, they walked into Draco’s chamber and went to the adjoining room to his own. One that had never been slept in but had been waiting for its rightful inhabitant. “Blaise, call the girls here; we’ll talk whilst she rests, and they can help clean her up.” Lying her down on top of the sheets, her curls spilling over the pillows, Draco laid a blanket over her body and left her to rest whilst the girls arrived.

 

---

 

“Draco, you better have a good reason for summoning us here using Blaise! We were about to have dinner!” The shrill of Pansy Parkinson was unavoidable, and Theo was relieved for the permanent silencing charms around Draco’s wing.

 

“Pansy darling, we have had quite the day, so sit down and listen. No interrupting. Then you can be shrill and tell us off, ok?” Draco warned as he strode back into the sitting room of his chambers. Pansy, Daphne and Astoria Greengrass primly sat down on the green ornate sofa opposite the matching one Blaise and Theo had spread across, on either side of the fireplace, as Draco lowered himself into his black wingback chair between the two. “Hermione Granger, apparently Theo’s secret best friend, contacted us the other day, we met her, and she partially explained that she wanted to leave the order and join us-”

 

“Pardon!” Daphne cut in.

 

“- she did not regale us with all the details, but apparently dumb and dumber and the rest of the bloody Order have treated her with little kindness.”

 

“If any.” Theo cut in, his voice betraying his upset.

 

“Yes, if any indeed. We made a plan to have her accepted by the Dark Lord, and it worked, but to earn her position, she had to torture and kill Ginny Weasley. It didn’t take much convincing, and honestly, I felt like I was going to be sick from what she said whilst she did it.”

 

“ Hours Pans, she took hours to do it!” Blaise was clearly still not over that .

 

“Her marking was unlike any others, completely silent! Now she is resting in the duchess suite, and honestly, I don’t think I can look at the bruises and cuts that she came here with, and I don’t think she’d want us chaps to. So would you three please go and help her, and then we can talk once you’re done, and she is asleep?”

 

The three faces of rage, shock, and horror (respectively) reflected on Draco as they began to process the information he had just shared.

 

“Right, yes, come on girls.” Daphne rose from her seat, and the other two followed her out of the sitting room.

 

Theo watched as Blaise and Draco finally had a moment to process the last eighteen hours as the moon shone through the large windows of the room. Casting a haunting glow over the two very contrasting men. Whisky glasses had appeared in their hands, poured far past the two-finger mark.

 

Theo could not process; however, there was in fact a complete lack of processing because his Hanger had endured and endured and endured, and her broken body, abused and defiled, was lying in the room next to him, and he could not think past the memories he had of her in battle. The powerful magic-wielding witch who had shown up every other wizard in every skirmish in the last two years. Who had created new spells to destroy and kill for what seemed like every battle. The girl who had become the executioner, with the highest kill count aside from the old guard of the Dark Lord’s Regime, who had been killing for over twice her lifetime. The one that had sat next to him in the library, with magical understanding surpassing some of the greatest wizards of all time, talking with him about their essays and explaining her new charms she had designed the night before.

 

Theo felt sick, as if the bottom of his stomach had dropped right out of him, like his blood had been replaced with sludge, and his throat was collapsing in. His distress must have been obvious as the two fire-whiskey drinking men were now in front of him, their mouths moving, but Theo could hear nothing, feel nothing… Before the black spots in his vision took over, a vial was poured down his throat, and the world slowly came back into focus.  

 

---

 

Draco could not handle another person falling apart tonight, so as his brother came round, he let out the breath that had been stuck in his chest. “It’s alright mate, ok. She is here, and she is safe.”

 

The girls came back in as Theo sipped on the glass of amber liquid that Blaise had wrapped his left hand around. The look on their faces almost sent him into a tailspin. Astoria was crying, her hand covering her mouth, and her eyes, the normal bright blue, were wide and unfocused. Daphne was pulling her along, grim determination was set across her face, her sleek blonde hair tied back, her years as the protector of her sister were obvious here, and Draco knew she had led the charge in the room. It was Pansy, though, whose reaction was the most odd to Draco. The girl had hated Granger for years, but her ire seemed to no longer point in her direction. No. Pansy was pissed, enraged, Draco could not think of any other way to describe it. Her green eyes were murderous as she stalked back into the room, fists clenched at her sides, her breaths ragged and heavy as if her whole body was fighting to keep her rooted to the floor.

 

Blaise was up and wrapping Pansy into her arms. They had seen her fits of rage before, and it was always better to have her contained. Daphne led Astoria to Theo and sat her down, the two most shell-shocked of the group wrapped each other in their arms and let the tears soak each other's clothes. Theo was not weak, but out of all of them, he was the closest to Granger, and Astoria was never made for the darker parts of this world.

   

Daphne stood up and grabbed Draco, and brought him over to the door to the suite. “I am going to tell you everything we did, and everything we saw, because I know you need to know to be in control. But when I do, I need you to promise me you will not leave this room. You have to promise me, ok?” She was being strong, he could tell, but it would not last long. A simple nod was his response as he stared into her eyes. “I am not sure what happened to her before she left their safe house, but the wounds on her, I mean Draco ,” a choke comes from her throat before she can hide it, “she … she was covered in old and new ones, cuts, bruises, badly healed breaks, and…oh merlin… we could see the …the… the signs of her rape. I am genuinely not sure how she could walk . It was, fucking Salazar, it was worse than any of Dolohov’s dolls.” The tears were breaking through her strong façade, “I don’t know what she went through, but her body told me more than any person ever should. We cleaned her up, reset all of the breaks, and covered her in bruise paste and shoved so much skele-gro, and so many other healing potions down her throat, but her mind after whatever she’s gone through ? Draco, I cannot even begin to imagine.”

 

He pulled her into his arms as she finished with a sob. Telling her how strong she is, how grateful he is, and how proud of her he is, but his eyes never left the crack in the door where the lump in the bed, that belonged to the future Lady Malfoy, rose and fell with his lion’s even breaths. “You did so well, Daphne, thank you truly. Go sit with the others, and summon Titch to bring some food up, ok?”

 

So as the rest of the room sat in silent tears, Draco pushed through the doors and into the bedroom.

 

---

 

Theo heard Blaise explaining everything that had happened in the last forty-eight hours to the girls. He wasn’t really listening - he already knew it all - but Astoria’s reactions told him roughly where they were in the re-telling.

 

Theo did not need to look up to feel the bubbling anger radiating off the already pissed Pansy, the sense of determination and severe need to protect from Daphne, and the complete devastation of the only pure member of their group in his arms. 

 

He was falling into the well of his mind, the thoughts spiralling out of control, over his failures, to Hermione, to the girls, to his friends, his mother… on and on it went. He knew that it was irrational; his ridiculously low sense of self-worth and constant need to blame himself was the product of his father’s twisted reality. That was not helpful however, when his brain kept circling back to Hermione, the one person he had trusted most in the world, the girl he had sent off to the Order to be safe (as much as being a bloody child soldier could be) from the death eaters, when really that was where she had befallen the most harm.

 

His thoughts are drawn back to the surface as he noted the lack of the blonde brute of the group, and his ears pick up the sound of a hushed but deep voice, filled with utter devastation, in Hermione’s room. Sliding Astoria into the arms of her sister, Theo rose from the sofa and walked to the doorway of the room that had been the centre of many a spirited debate throughout their childhoods.

 

The room of Draco’s future bride, the future Mrs Malfoy, Lady of the Manor. In childhood, it was some of the more attractive mums, the daughters of the ladies who came to the manor for society lunches, and the occasional witch who graced the front pages of the Daily Prophet. During their earlier years at Hogwarts, it was the prefects and head girls who drew the suggestions; the Beauxbatons girls were the pick of the litter in their fourth year for the title. Slowly, the joke began to die out. Draco did not want to bring any woman into the life he was forced to endure, nor would he want his future son from said bride to be passed the mantle he had worn. Hermione Granger had never once been in the running - not opening anyway - no one would dare suggest the Pureblood Prince of Slytherin would sully the Malfoy line, but Theo knows that both the very ‘enlightening’ punch from third year and the way she had looked at the Yule Ball in fourth (and how Draco had looked at her ever since that night) meant that she had always held a spot on the ballot for the future resident of this room. 

 

How odd then for Draco, to have the person he had long hoped to inhabit this room, be asleep in it, yet, once again, something so precious was sullied by the war. She was not in this room after their wedding night, when she inevitably found out about his snoring, or when she wanted to escape and read one of her many, many, many books, nor was she curled around their child with platinum curly hair, a button nose and grey eyes that were as big and round as their mothers. No, she was here, wrapped in bandages and covered in Dittany with scars that were both visible and invisible that would never fade. 

 

So Theo watched as his two favourite people sat in a room he had hoped they would both occupy together, on the edge of ruin.

 

---

 

He stared at her as he sat in the chair he had dragged from the window, pulled as tight to the bed as his legs would allow. Watching the rise and fall of her chest, under the heavy duvet the girls had tucked her under, counting her breaths, timing them really, inhale - one, two, three, four -hold for one, exhale - one, two, three, four - hold for two. 

 

He catalogued everything he could see about her, now the makeup and the glamours were removed, and her true appearance was before him. Her harshness and natural strength were missing from her expression as she slept, the frown gone, the tight pull of her face relaxed. Draco wanted to say she looked younger now, but the persistent wrinkle from her frown remained, the deep set of her eye bags and the drawn and palid look of her skin as it stretched over her cheekbones did not allow for that. He wanted to though, he wanted to see the girl he had secretly stared at for years during Hogwarts, wanted to see the relaxed and happy look of a Malfoy wife ( a woman who was protected and supported by her husband, so that she could achieve all that she desired, just as a Malfoy should). 

 

The irony of her being in this bed, in such juxtaposing conditions to its intended use, was not lost on Draco, but he refused to let himself go down that particular rabbit hole today. 

 

“Granger, I swear you are safe here with us, safe from the Order, safe from anyone that would do you harm” Draco Malfoy did not cry…but if he let the walls of his Occlumency down, he would be powerless against the tears that would come. 

 

“I am so sorry, Granger.” He sucked in a deep breath, hiking his walls even higher, “For all of it, but Merlin darling, I am so sorry they are still breathing. I promise that will not be for long.”

 

He rose from his chair, leaned over and kissed the exposed part of her head, kissing the curls that defied all notions of physics. Sat back and regained his post over her, unable to move away for fear that he couldn't count her breaths, couldn't keep watch, couldn't protect her.

 

---

 

Theo turned around as he watched Draco settle back into his chair, “Ok, well, urm, I don’t think I can stay up much longer. Astoria is already asleep, and I am guessing none of you want to leave right now. Daph, if you want to cosy up in Draco’s room with Astoria, Pansy and Blaise, you can post up in my room? Draco and I will probably be in with Ha…Hermione tonight.” Theo was dead on his feet; he couldn't think about anything other than her. “In the morning, we can plan, ok? But just get some rest, Titch can bring some dreamless sleep if you need it.”

 

Theo turned around before he could deal with the sad looks from his friends, he heard their goodnights to him, and tell-tale sounds of Blaise lifting the easy load of Astoria for Daphne, the clack of shoes against the hardwood floor, and the pop of apparition signalling the arrival of Titch with the dreamless sleep. 

 

Draco was still awake and looked up as he walked into the bedroom. “We are all calling it a night, mate, I'm in here with you.” Draco must have been on his last legs because all Theo got was a grunt in reply, as Draco resumed his vigil over Hermione. 

 

Theo kicked off his shoes, untucked his shirt, and lay down on the bed, over the covers, and pulled up a blanket. He turned to face the sleeping lump that was Hermione, closed his eyes, and promptly fell asleep.

 

Notes:

Welp sorry for the epic amount of time it took to actually release this chapter.
Turns out that dropping out of uni and moving back home from across the world does not actually make writing fanfic easier.

Anyway, I am so glad I have finally gotten this chapter out, and hopefully I will get stuck right back in with chapter 5 and will release that soon as well.

I honestly have no idea what to do with 'her hope burns', but I am sure I will get round to that fic eventually.

Yes Draco counting things is inspired by a fic...do I remember which one... no. BUT I have documented almost every fic I have ever read and finished (apart from the ones I cannot let anyone know I have ever read) in my collections on this account. so I shall henceforth call that my bibliography.