Hostage of War
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Draco/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
10
Views:
20,324
Reviews:
46
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Draco/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
10
Views:
20,324
Reviews:
46
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own anything associated with Harry Potter; I do not earn money by writing this story.
Initium
A/N: A big thank you to Softobsidian74 for alpha reading and Sempra for the fantastic beta job!
This story had been written for Draco Big Bang 2010. If you would like to see the artwork for this story, the original version and the wonderful art by the extremely talented Lhys are archived here:
http:// dracobigbang. accio. nu /fics /14. htm
Please take out spaces :)
The tale ends here or rather, the future can begin. I had planned to write a sequel but since I am pregnant and have another big move coming up, I don’t know when I will be able to get to that.
I would like to thank everyone, who followed this story, especially those, who took the time to review!
Review responses to chapter 9 can be found here:
http://lady-of-clunn. livejournal. com/ 86233.html
*****************************************************************
Initium
Hermione could feel Draco give her a hard push and when the moderate resistance of people standing in her way suddenly disappeared she went falling and tumbling onto the grassy ground inside the stone circle.
Voldemort was there, right in front of her and he looked at her in the same way he might observe a turtle fallen on its back.
There was no time and since nobody seemed to react—yet—she felt the urgent need to state the obvious as she was at a loss as to What. To. Do.
She crawled forward and to the shock of all present, grabbed the robes of the Dark Lord.
“I am here! Please! I am here!”
Voldemort would have looked down his nose at her, but as he did not possess one, it made his eyes appear a bit cross-eyed.
“You are not saying.”
Several of the Death Eaters closest to Voldemort started to fidget and seemed to be eager to prove their loyalty, so Hermione rushed on, filling the silence with her urgent words.
“I did not run away, Greyback abducted me! I did not leave voluntarily.”
Voldemort began to turn away, tugging sharply at his robes still in her grasp.
“You have to keep the armistice! The magic of the truce would unleash hell if you broke it now!”
Without warning or prior indication, Voldemort’s Legilimency slammed into her mind, painful in ways neither Dumbledore nor Severus had been.
Voldemort tore into her mind before she could hope to raise her barriers. He broke into the house of her being, trespassing and violating along the way. He flung doors open that she usually kept carefully closed.
Cupboards were emptied of precious souvenirs and drawers upturned and their contents flung across rooms.
Hogwarts.
Her parent’s house.
Crookshanks.
Battles.
And then.
Victor.
Severus.
Draco.
Greyback.
Here Voldemort lingered and she could feel his own mind poke and prod and touch.
After what seemed like an eternity, he let go.
Though the invasion had ceased, the pain lingered, then flared and she fell into comforting darkness.
***
When she woke, there were crisp white cotton sheets and silence and sunlight bathing her bandaged hands on top of the duvet.
Narcissa Malfoy stood near the window, as always the likeness of an angel in flawless pale silver robes.
The perfect angel wrung her hands in distress.
“Are we back to war?”
Narcissa started at the sound of Hermione’s voice and hurried over to her bed. Sitting down at the edge, she re-arranged the duvet that had fallen down when Hermione had tried to sit up.
“War?” Narcissa smoothed Hermione’s hair and tucked it gently behind her ears. “There is no war. We have an armistice.”
Hermione deflated back into the pillows and closed her eyes.
It had not been in vain.
“Still lazing about in bed, Granger?”
Draco stood leaning against the door jamb, looking a bit worse for wear, his left arm in a sling around his neck and shoulder.
Narcissa stood and walked to the door, laying a soft hand on her son’s cheek, then turned around to Hermione.
“I will see you in the afternoon, Hermione. Would you care for some tea and scones?”
Hermione blinked.
“That would be lovely, Mrs. Malfoy.”
Narcissa smiled her faint smile and left in a trail of pastel robes.
There was a long stretch of silence, in which Hermione fidgeted and fiddled with the white duvet cover.
“How did we survive this?”
Draco stood a bit straighter.
“Father.” Hermione looked at him, her question evident. “The Dark Lord performed Legilimency on you and he must have been anything but tentative.” He looked away. “I could hear you scream.”
Hearing her had been decidedly different from attending revels or raids in the past. Draco wondered whether the Dark Lord knew how dangerous this armistice really was. Before the war would start over, Draco would retread to Normandy. New Zealand also sounded rather lovely.
“You passed out and father managed to claim you as his hostage again. Being responsible for your wellbeing and all.”
Hermione looked at him and her peaceful room at Malfoy Manor.
“So this is it then? We ignore what happened and continue on for the next one and a half years?”
“One and three quarters of a year.”
She rolled her eyes.
Suddenly he grinned.
“I still have several life debts and a Philomena hanging over your head.”
“I beg to differ; I think we are even life debt wise.”
She folded her arms in front of her and tried to look defiant.
It hurt a bit where she could still feel the phantom touch of Voldemort in her mind.
He shrugged and leaned forward.
His breath tickled her when he whispered into her ear. Hermione shuddered a little when his words washed over her.
“The Philomena is the best one anyhow.”
He knew exactly what he would be asking for.
This story had been written for Draco Big Bang 2010. If you would like to see the artwork for this story, the original version and the wonderful art by the extremely talented Lhys are archived here:
http:// dracobigbang. accio. nu /fics /14. htm
Please take out spaces :)
The tale ends here or rather, the future can begin. I had planned to write a sequel but since I am pregnant and have another big move coming up, I don’t know when I will be able to get to that.
I would like to thank everyone, who followed this story, especially those, who took the time to review!
Review responses to chapter 9 can be found here:
http://lady-of-clunn. livejournal. com/ 86233.html
*****************************************************************
Initium
Hermione could feel Draco give her a hard push and when the moderate resistance of people standing in her way suddenly disappeared she went falling and tumbling onto the grassy ground inside the stone circle.
Voldemort was there, right in front of her and he looked at her in the same way he might observe a turtle fallen on its back.
There was no time and since nobody seemed to react—yet—she felt the urgent need to state the obvious as she was at a loss as to What. To. Do.
She crawled forward and to the shock of all present, grabbed the robes of the Dark Lord.
“I am here! Please! I am here!”
Voldemort would have looked down his nose at her, but as he did not possess one, it made his eyes appear a bit cross-eyed.
“You are not saying.”
Several of the Death Eaters closest to Voldemort started to fidget and seemed to be eager to prove their loyalty, so Hermione rushed on, filling the silence with her urgent words.
“I did not run away, Greyback abducted me! I did not leave voluntarily.”
Voldemort began to turn away, tugging sharply at his robes still in her grasp.
“You have to keep the armistice! The magic of the truce would unleash hell if you broke it now!”
Without warning or prior indication, Voldemort’s Legilimency slammed into her mind, painful in ways neither Dumbledore nor Severus had been.
Voldemort tore into her mind before she could hope to raise her barriers. He broke into the house of her being, trespassing and violating along the way. He flung doors open that she usually kept carefully closed.
Cupboards were emptied of precious souvenirs and drawers upturned and their contents flung across rooms.
Hogwarts.
Her parent’s house.
Crookshanks.
Battles.
And then.
Victor.
Severus.
Draco.
Greyback.
Here Voldemort lingered and she could feel his own mind poke and prod and touch.
After what seemed like an eternity, he let go.
Though the invasion had ceased, the pain lingered, then flared and she fell into comforting darkness.
***
When she woke, there were crisp white cotton sheets and silence and sunlight bathing her bandaged hands on top of the duvet.
Narcissa Malfoy stood near the window, as always the likeness of an angel in flawless pale silver robes.
The perfect angel wrung her hands in distress.
“Are we back to war?”
Narcissa started at the sound of Hermione’s voice and hurried over to her bed. Sitting down at the edge, she re-arranged the duvet that had fallen down when Hermione had tried to sit up.
“War?” Narcissa smoothed Hermione’s hair and tucked it gently behind her ears. “There is no war. We have an armistice.”
Hermione deflated back into the pillows and closed her eyes.
It had not been in vain.
“Still lazing about in bed, Granger?”
Draco stood leaning against the door jamb, looking a bit worse for wear, his left arm in a sling around his neck and shoulder.
Narcissa stood and walked to the door, laying a soft hand on her son’s cheek, then turned around to Hermione.
“I will see you in the afternoon, Hermione. Would you care for some tea and scones?”
Hermione blinked.
“That would be lovely, Mrs. Malfoy.”
Narcissa smiled her faint smile and left in a trail of pastel robes.
There was a long stretch of silence, in which Hermione fidgeted and fiddled with the white duvet cover.
“How did we survive this?”
Draco stood a bit straighter.
“Father.” Hermione looked at him, her question evident. “The Dark Lord performed Legilimency on you and he must have been anything but tentative.” He looked away. “I could hear you scream.”
Hearing her had been decidedly different from attending revels or raids in the past. Draco wondered whether the Dark Lord knew how dangerous this armistice really was. Before the war would start over, Draco would retread to Normandy. New Zealand also sounded rather lovely.
“You passed out and father managed to claim you as his hostage again. Being responsible for your wellbeing and all.”
Hermione looked at him and her peaceful room at Malfoy Manor.
“So this is it then? We ignore what happened and continue on for the next one and a half years?”
“One and three quarters of a year.”
She rolled her eyes.
Suddenly he grinned.
“I still have several life debts and a Philomena hanging over your head.”
“I beg to differ; I think we are even life debt wise.”
She folded her arms in front of her and tried to look defiant.
It hurt a bit where she could still feel the phantom touch of Voldemort in her mind.
He shrugged and leaned forward.
His breath tickled her when he whispered into her ear. Hermione shuddered a little when his words washed over her.
“The Philomena is the best one anyhow.”
He knew exactly what he would be asking for.