Unbidden Love Chapter Three

Chapter Three: The New Malfoy

It was a long moment before either of them spoke. Draco carelessly unfastened his cloak and whipped it over one shoulder before strutting toward her. He held himself with the same arrogance, and Hermione found herself bristling even though he kept a safe distance.

He studied her thoughtfully, as if he didn’t truly believe that Hermione Granger, his childhood rival, was glaring at him once more. “Something’s changed about you, Granger,” he remarked softly. “You seem more…dignified, even in this puny cell.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes, trying to guess at his game. “War does that to some people, Malfoy. Horrible things can either destroy a person or make them stronger. Harry, Ron and I have benefited from Voldemort’s reign character wise, but I had thought the war had done the opposite for you.”

Anger burned in his eyes for a millisecond before they glazed over and Malfoy turned, strutting around the dirt and analyzing the walls like an interior designer. “I regret that you still hold such a pathetic view of me from before,” he told her nonchalantly. “If anything, my parents’ failures with Voldemort made me realize how much I want to change. They started off well, powerful and knowledgeable, but they let the fear bring out their weaknesses and in the end it made them cower. I’m trying to reverse my family’s current status by taking charge of the Neo-Death Eaters’ organization. We hope to tell the world that even though the Dark Lord is no more, those who still hold Voldemort’s wishes for a pureblood world are not gone.”

“Good luck with that,” she grunted. “With Harry and Ron as leaders in the new Ministry and the Daily Prophet finally uncorrupted, the wizarding world will not let any revolts or murders go unnoticed. There are too many against you, Malfoy; you can not possible win now.”

Despite her optimistic words, she let the rising fear attach itself to her heart. Harry in particular had feared something like this occurring one day, but they tried to pretend that the name ‘Neo-Death Eater’ was only used for gossip purposes and to evoke a new kind of fear. They had never thought an actual organization would be created…

Malfoy raised his eyebrows indignantly. “You think so, do you?” His soft, callous tone reminded her creepily of Lucius. “And what if we had something? Something the Ministry doesn’t?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Draco grimaced, as if speaking had caused him physical pain. Hermione frowned as he turned away to face the wall, hands clasped tightly behind his back. Hermione guessed he had either pronounced something he wasn’t supposed to, or let his lie go too far.

The silence made her heart race, although she wasn’t sure way, so she decided to break it. “Why are you doing this, Draco? Why can’t you hide in the shadows like your parents and try to conform to the current society? Causing upset in the system is going to do you more harm than good. Plus, who are you doing this for? Lucius? Carrow? You’re old enough now to realize that you don’t have to follow the same path as your father.”

Her courageous speech was the first thing to light the fire of rage in Malfoy. He whipped around, his eyes wide with either resentment or rage, before rushing toward her and throwing her forcefully back against the wall. Hermione let out a gasp of pain as her spine smashed against the rock, although her surprise at how much her words had affected him covered up most of the ache. She could only stare at him with mixed fascination and fury as he held her against the rocks with one powerful hand, keeping his enraged face close to hers as he spat his words with force.

“Don’t ever make assumptions about either me or my family, Granger,” he hissed. “With your abundant knowledge and all your textbooks you think you have all the answers, but the real world is not like school and that’s something they don’t teach you at Hogwarts. To survive in today’s world you have to stand on your own two feet, and that’s how I’m making myself known and wanted. And to get the record straight, I’m not doing this for anyone but myself – do you understand, mudblood?”

She reacted without thought, her fists balled up in anger as she spat a wad of saliva onto his pale, perfectly-formed face.

Draco reacted quicker than she had anticipated. With a cry of fury, he pulled his wand from his cloak pocket and fired a silent spell at her gut. She screamed before sinking to the ground, clutching her stomach as blood gushed from a deep wound just above her naval. She glared up at him with deep, fiery hatred as he smirked above her. He had already wiped the spit from his face.

“I hope that shows you whom you’re dealing with, Granger. This is not the same childhood bullying like in the past; I no longer feel the same satisfaction by cursing in your face. I’m also no longer the weak pet of my father…I’m a man now.”

“So your definition of a man is someone who preys upon those weaker than him? That’s above your usual pathetic, Malfoy.” It was hard to speak, for every time she breathed, a fierce pain shot up her front to her head. She tried her best to not let Malfoy see how much his spell had hurt her. She wanted him to leave quickly so that she could perform the clotting spell on herself; her shirt was already drenched in blood.

But her rage only increased when she realized Malfoy had already seen all her pain…and he still stood there smirking above her.

“I’m glad I had the opportunity to practice that curse on you, Granger. Now it’ll be perfected by the time I hit Potter with it tomorrow.”

This unexpected surprise caused the blood to drain from her face. How had he…

“Yes, Granger, I know your friends are coming. I saw Potter’s owl arriving earlier…I had made sure to memorize its form before, just in case I would need to spot it again. I’m glad that I’ll be here for their arrival; ever since Voldemort’s demise I’ve wanted to duel with the Boy Who Lived again. And this time I won’t be afraid to fire any killing curses.”

Hermione wanted to scream, wanted to throw something heavy at his face, but the blood was still rapidly leaving her through her wound and the resulting nausea made Draco’s form spin before her eyes. Just before she felt unconsciousness reach up to grab her, she felt her large gash clot and her vision return.

“It’s no fun to taunt you when you’re unconscious,” he said lazily, twilling his wand between his fingers. “Regain your energy tonight, Granger, so you’re ready to run when Potter comes. I can assure you that your friends will meet resistance when they arrive.”

Without glancing at her again, Draco Malfoy refastened his cloak and swept from the room. Exhaustion crept into all the muscles of her body, but fear for Harry and Ron – especially Ron – kept her awake for a few more hours. Would they bring enough of the Order members to safely rescue her? Or had Malfoy’s malice risen to such an extent that it was dangerous for them to come here? She had never feared Draco in the way she had feared Voldemort or even Bellatrix, but the image of his cold, heartless eyes and the power of his spell made her feel ill. Did he really have the ability to fire ‘Avada Kadavra’ at her friends? And worse, would the spells actually be successful?

Before long, her exhaustion took over and she found herself passed out on the cold earth. She hoped to experience a peaceful image of Ron to dispel all other images of Malfoy, but instead a scene so vivid came into her mind that it could have been a real memory…

She was walking down a dark corridor, the clip, clop of her heels on the polished oak floor echoing off the peach-coloured walls. A middle-aged witch was waiting for her at the end. Her face was drooped in weariness and the sheen of tears shone on her pale cheeks from the candles centered on the walls. She held up her arms silently for Hermione’s cloak, and Hermione threw the garment at her without hesitation.

“What has happened, Jasinda?” she asked, her tone hard as ice. “Why was I called here at such late notice? How long has he been here?”

The woman shrank back at Hermione’s impatience. “Only a few hours, my lady. We weren’t alarmed at first, so we didn’t call you with his immediate arrival, but now…”

“Is he inside?” Hermione demanded, cutting Jasinda off with an uncouth flick of her hand.

“Yes, miss, he is on…”

Without waiting for her to finish, Hermione rushed inside the master bedroom they were standing outside of. The walls were a rich scarlet with satin curtains of the same shade flowing softly against the open window to Hermione’s left. The room was unfurnished except for a king-sized, canopy bed in the center. There laid a young man with pale blond hair, his eyes closed in sleep but his face tense.

Hermione rushed to his side and took his hand, unwanted tears filling her eyes and shaking her vision. Irritated, she brushed them away with one hand and leaned in closer to the sleeping man.

“Draco…Draco, can you hear me?”

It didn’t take long before Draco’s eyes fluttered open and he recognized her face. He didn’t smile but instead narrowed his eyes, although Hermione knew he acted with surprise instead of irritation.

“Why have you come? Why aren’t you at work?”

“I heard rumors, Draco, but I couldn’t believe them. They scared me too much. Please, end this nonsense by telling me the truth…”

Hermione pulled back with a slight gasp as Draco threw the thick duvet from his body and jumped gracefully from his bed. He smoothed out the wrinkles from his white, buttoned shirt before launching himself toward the window. He leaned against the window pane, inhaling the crisp, night air with urgency.

“Draco, stop this!” she demanded, cupping her hands together to hide their shaking. “You’re making all this worse. Why make me worry when you could just deny the rumors?”

The silence caused by his delayed response caused a chill to rush through her body. The fear clung to her head, her heart, her stomach, making her hyperventilate and clutch her stomach.

“Draco, please!” She cried the words now, desperate for release from the pain. “Please stop this!”

He spun to face her, and the look he gave her was so distant, so absent of emotion that she broke down. She knew the truth before he had even spoke. She buried her face in her hands as her cries grew louder, so much so that she had to concentrate to hear Draco’s words.

“It’s true, Hermione. I was branded a year before the end. Now it’s irritating me again and I don’t know what it means. As soon as I’m well, I’m leaving the country. I’m afraid of who’s going to seek me out now.”

The anger came next. Her hands were shaking so much she had difficulty reaching for her left ring finger, but she fought for control and was able to pull the diamond from her left hand and cast it at his now appalled expression.

“You liar! You fiend, you…you monster!” Her words were almost incoherent as she screamed through her shakes and sobs, but Draco got the message clearly enough. He was as shaken as her, but he was able to hide most of it. “All these years I believed your lies, and now you ditch us when the truth finally comes out! What am I to tell Killian? How do I explain to him what you’ve done to our family?”

Hermione was convulsing so heavily that she had to lay back on the bed, but Draco didn’t approach her, despite the concern in his eyes.

“Leave me, just leave me!” she croaked, throwing everything within her reach – pillows, lamps, blankets – at him.

Draco didn’t move. Didn’t twitch. Didn’t seem to comprehend her words.

She glared at him with enough ferocity to make him wince. “GO NOW AND NEVER RETURN!” she shrieked, her crazed voice reminiscent of Bellatrix. “I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE…”

“SHUT UP IN THERE!”

Hermione gasped, jolted awake by the banging on her cell door. Carrow was cursing and screaming at her from outside the door, but what had she done to infuriate him so?

Hermione grimaced when she recalled the last words her dream self had cried. She must have screamed the words aloud to receive such a crazed response from the Neo-Death Eater…

She groaned when she remembered why she had been screaming “I hate you!” over and over again. Draco had done something to piss her off, and she had been calling him a monster and accusing him of destroying their family…

Her heart jumped. Their family? No, no, she had to have recalled the dream differently…she must have…
But the ring disproved all her frantic hopes. There was no mistake to who she had been in the dream…

She had been Draco’s wife.