Nothing Like You and I
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Draco/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
19
Views:
19,513
Reviews:
177
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Draco/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
19
Views:
19,513
Reviews:
177
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter nor do I make any money from this story!!!!! All characters belong to JK Rowling!
Let's Make Things Interesting, Shall We?
Song:
Dead at Midnight
Immediate Music - Liberty Shield
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JhqZxnA8CRw
Let’s Make Things More Homey
Immediate Music - Liberty Shield
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JhqZxnA8CRw
==============================================================================
Dead at Midnight
==============================================================================
Harry and Ginny had just begun settling down for a nice evening together while little James slept soundly in the upstairs bedroom. Walking out of the kitchen with a large wooden bowl of popcorn, Harry jumped over the couch and settled next to his beautiful wife. Ginny, having jumped at his usual display of youth, grinned up at her husband and folded the Prophet in half.
“You’re just doing that to show you’re not getting old,” she laughed, bringing her hand to his cheek and stroking him with the back of her fingers.
“I’m twenty-four, Gin,” Harry said with a quirked eyebrow, “I think I hardly qualify as ‘old’ just yet. Maybe in the next few years.”
“Or when mum decides its time for us to have more grandbabies,” Ginny said, feeling her husband’s arm wrap around her shoulders.
He pulled her to him as she brought her hand to the wooden bowl and plucked a few pieces of popcorn from it.
“I wouldn’t mind practicing for a few grandbabies for your mum,” he hinted, burying his face into her flaming red hair.
“You’re such a man,” Ginny giggled, pulling away just a little to stare into his green eyes, “I don’t mind so much though.”
“Really?” Harry said happily, “Well, we can always put off the movie in favor for a little…”
“Please don’t say expecting your patronum or stirring my cauldron with your wand,” she snickered, “That’s something Ron would say, and not only that…but he’d actually think it’d work.”
“Would it work on you if I say it?” he asked, pulling the bowl from their laps.
“Maybe,” Ginny replied, giggling as he pushed her back against the couch and descended his lips over hers.
“Let’s see about that…Mrs. Potter,” he whispered against her lips, closing his eyes just a little as he felt her fingers run through his hair.
“I don’t hear you saying it, Mr. Potter,” she crooned softly, leaning up to kiss him.
Harry descended his lips over his wife’s and groaned softly as her fingers danced over his back. Just as she was about to pull his shirt from his form, a loud booming knock exploded into the room. The pair instantly shot to their feet, Harry’s wand pulled from the lining of the sofa while Ginny pried hers from the folded copy of the Prophet.
“Harry! Ginny!” came the muffled voice from behind.
“Remus,” Harry was quick to identify, glancing to his wife’s flustered face.
Harry strode over to the door and barely yanked it open before Remus Lupin burst through. His face was etched with never ending lines of fear and dread. The clothes he worn looked tattered, as if he had rushed straight from one of his business meetings. Remus closed the door quickly and ran his fingers through his hair, pacing in their living room.
“What’s wrong?” Harry asked, looking to Ginny, who had pulled her hair into a pony tail – a tall tale sign that she was preparing for war.
“Hermione,” Remus said quickly, “She’s missing. I returned home early today and the place was ransacked.”
“Where’s Teddy? Is he…” Ginny quickly said, grasping onto the throw over the couch.
“Teddy is fine, he’s still at his grans’ house,” Remus said in a huff, “There was blood everywhere….She’s hurt and…Oh gods....”
“Ransacked? Blood?” Harry’s brows furrowed, “Remus, sit down. Tell me everything”
“There’s no time,” his older friend said, ringing his hands together, “She’s missing, he’s taken her.”
“Who?” Ginny asked, rushing to Remus, “Who has taken her, Remus?”
Remus slumped to the couch and brought his hands to his hair. His fingers trembled as he raked and raked them through his mousy brown locks. Licking his lips, Remus dug into his pocket, pulling out several pieces of parchment, receipts, chocolate bar wrappers and finally a small crumpled photograph. He held it out shakingly to Harry, who grasped onto it and pulled it from his grasp.
Harry unfolded the photo and nearly stumbled back in shock. Ginny grasped onto his back and forearm, propping him up before widening her eyes at the photograph. Looking to their worried friend on the couch, Remus stared up at them.
“Draco Malfoy has Hermione,” he said in barely a whisper as the photo fell to the ground.
It was a moving photo of Hermione being held at wand point by a sinister looking Draco, eyes crimson red and cheeks sunken in. Right underneath it there was the elegant sprawl of his hand writing stating.
SHE’S DEAD AT MIDNIGHT, POTTER
==============================================================================
Let’s Make Things More Homey
==============================================================================
Voldemort’s hand traced over the smooth flesh of Draco as he held him to his chest. He brought his nose to the crook of his neck and inhaled, closing his ruby eyes and sighed contently.
“I have been looking for you,” he crowed, grasping onto Draco’s throat and holding him still, “For years. I thought once you were stripped of your body you would simply flutter away. Little did I know that this…love…kept you here, binding yourself to the lowly mudblood.”
Draco’s eyes glanced at Hermione, who was lying on the bed hardly breathing. Her skin was a bright shade of blue, eyes watering heavily. She was dying.
“Answer my question, you sick fuck,” Draco spat, unable to physically move from Voldemort’s grasp, “What have you done to Hermione?”
“Why,” Voldemort answered, bringing his lips to Draco’s ear, “She’s dying of course. You wouldn’t think I’d let her live after so long, did you now?”
“Get off of me,” he snarled, trying to move his limbs but it was no use.
“You’re weaker with me present,” Voldemort explained as his tongue darted out and lapped at Draco’s ear lobe, “And this is going to be such a lovely evening…we’re expecting company soon.”
Voldemort grasped onto the back of Draco’s head and yanked it back, causing the blond to growl in pain. He brought his tongue out and licked up the length of Draco’s neck before shoving him forward. Draco stumbled and fell into the vanity, his own form crumpling to the ground. Bringing his hands to his head, Voldemort slicked his long blonde hair back and hissed, sticking his tongue out like a serpent.
“She’s so sweet and supple,” he teased, looking pointly at Draco as he maneuvered to the side of the bed, “So fragile and tender…”
“Don’t fucking touch her,” Draco hissed, crawling to his hands and knees, “Get away from her!”
“You, my boy, are in no position to make demands,” Voldemort said in a matter-of-fact tone, flowing to sit next to Hermione. “Tell me, was she worth it?”
He traced his hand over her broken and bruised form, eyes glaring into Draco’s. “Was she worth dying for?”
“Yes,” Draco huffed, feeling his knees give out as he tried to rise, “I’d die again for her…without hesitation.”
“Really,” Voldemort grinned, tilting his head to the side, “Well, we will see how far you are willing to go for her, boy.”
He grasped onto Hermione’s hair and yanked her to the side. Her screams echoed and filled the silence of the room as the sounds of more breaking bones were muffled. Draco growled and leapt to his feet in a burst of energy, prepared to tackle Voldemort. Voldemort simply looked up and held his hand out, stopping Draco in his place. He flicked his wrist sending Draco flying across the room. Draco let out a grunt as he slammed into the wall and fell to the ground, hitting his head on the floor.
“Get up,” Voldemort commanding, pulling Hermione to him with a yank, “Get up and fight for your witch, Draco.”
“Son of a…” Draco growled, moving again but was once more thrown back.
“Stop…”Hermione pleaded, “You’re killing him…”
“Am I?” Voldemort whispered against her, looking as Draco rose again but this time blood seeped from a cut in his head. “So it seems I am…excellent.”
“Let her go and fight me, you sodding ponce!” Draco snarled, grasping onto the wall to support.
“Language, Draco,” Voldemort nearly cackled, tossing Hermione across the room where she hit the vanity.
Mirror shattered around her when she tumbled onto the desk and then floor. Hermione let out a horrified scream as she rolled onto her back, blood oozing from her cuts. Draco lunged for Hermione but was thrown back by invisible hands. He hit the adjacent wall and begun sliding up it. Gasping for breath, Draco brought his hands to the invisible force – trying to free himself.
Voldemort stepped over Hermione, crunching glass under his boot, with one hand held out. He tilted his head to the side and grinned.
“Even in death you are worthless,” Voldemort said lightly, “Just like your father.”
As he held his second hand out to end the soul in front of him, Voldemort howled in pain and slumped to the ground. He looked behind him and saw Hermione clutching onto a pane of mirror in her bloody hand. She had stabbed him in the calf, looking at him with menacing eyes. Voldemort growled and reached back for her but was grabbed by the back of his head as a fist flew into his face.
“Get out of my fucking body!” Draco snarled, balling his fist up as he punched Voldemort several times, his knuckles bleeding heavily.
Hermione sighed and lowered her head, coughing heavily. He stopped instantly and dropped Voldemort to the ground, moving to Hermione where he tried to piece her back together. His hands flew over her form, trying to grasp onto her but he couldn’t. He couldn’t touch her.
Chuckling from Voldemort filled the room as Draco continued to try and touch her, his face frantic and sweat beading across his forehead. Voldemort lifted himself slowly up, licking the blood from his broke nose and savoring the taste.
“You’re growing weaker,” he laughed, “As she grows weaker…how interesting.”
“Hermione,” Draco whispered, “Hermione!”
“Draco…” Hermione replied back, her lips turning the wrong shade of purple.
She reached for his hand but it slipped over his form and fell to the ground. Draco’s eyes widened a little more as he tried to touch her hand but found that he couldn’t. He gasped as a force pulled him back against the wall, slamming into it hard. His wrists flew from his body and twisted in unearthly ways, pinning him to the wall. Voldemort was standing against Hermione’s bed, clutching onto his nose as he fixed it with a sickening crack. Inhaling with his tongue hanging out, he looked down at Hermione.
“We’re expecting company, my dear,” he laughed, “Let’s make things more…homey shall we?”
Dead at Midnight
Immediate Music - Liberty Shield
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JhqZxnA8CRw
Let’s Make Things More Homey
Immediate Music - Liberty Shield
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JhqZxnA8CRw
==============================================================================
Dead at Midnight
==============================================================================
Harry and Ginny had just begun settling down for a nice evening together while little James slept soundly in the upstairs bedroom. Walking out of the kitchen with a large wooden bowl of popcorn, Harry jumped over the couch and settled next to his beautiful wife. Ginny, having jumped at his usual display of youth, grinned up at her husband and folded the Prophet in half.
“You’re just doing that to show you’re not getting old,” she laughed, bringing her hand to his cheek and stroking him with the back of her fingers.
“I’m twenty-four, Gin,” Harry said with a quirked eyebrow, “I think I hardly qualify as ‘old’ just yet. Maybe in the next few years.”
“Or when mum decides its time for us to have more grandbabies,” Ginny said, feeling her husband’s arm wrap around her shoulders.
He pulled her to him as she brought her hand to the wooden bowl and plucked a few pieces of popcorn from it.
“I wouldn’t mind practicing for a few grandbabies for your mum,” he hinted, burying his face into her flaming red hair.
“You’re such a man,” Ginny giggled, pulling away just a little to stare into his green eyes, “I don’t mind so much though.”
“Really?” Harry said happily, “Well, we can always put off the movie in favor for a little…”
“Please don’t say expecting your patronum or stirring my cauldron with your wand,” she snickered, “That’s something Ron would say, and not only that…but he’d actually think it’d work.”
“Would it work on you if I say it?” he asked, pulling the bowl from their laps.
“Maybe,” Ginny replied, giggling as he pushed her back against the couch and descended his lips over hers.
“Let’s see about that…Mrs. Potter,” he whispered against her lips, closing his eyes just a little as he felt her fingers run through his hair.
“I don’t hear you saying it, Mr. Potter,” she crooned softly, leaning up to kiss him.
Harry descended his lips over his wife’s and groaned softly as her fingers danced over his back. Just as she was about to pull his shirt from his form, a loud booming knock exploded into the room. The pair instantly shot to their feet, Harry’s wand pulled from the lining of the sofa while Ginny pried hers from the folded copy of the Prophet.
“Harry! Ginny!” came the muffled voice from behind.
“Remus,” Harry was quick to identify, glancing to his wife’s flustered face.
Harry strode over to the door and barely yanked it open before Remus Lupin burst through. His face was etched with never ending lines of fear and dread. The clothes he worn looked tattered, as if he had rushed straight from one of his business meetings. Remus closed the door quickly and ran his fingers through his hair, pacing in their living room.
“What’s wrong?” Harry asked, looking to Ginny, who had pulled her hair into a pony tail – a tall tale sign that she was preparing for war.
“Hermione,” Remus said quickly, “She’s missing. I returned home early today and the place was ransacked.”
“Where’s Teddy? Is he…” Ginny quickly said, grasping onto the throw over the couch.
“Teddy is fine, he’s still at his grans’ house,” Remus said in a huff, “There was blood everywhere….She’s hurt and…Oh gods....”
“Ransacked? Blood?” Harry’s brows furrowed, “Remus, sit down. Tell me everything”
“There’s no time,” his older friend said, ringing his hands together, “She’s missing, he’s taken her.”
“Who?” Ginny asked, rushing to Remus, “Who has taken her, Remus?”
Remus slumped to the couch and brought his hands to his hair. His fingers trembled as he raked and raked them through his mousy brown locks. Licking his lips, Remus dug into his pocket, pulling out several pieces of parchment, receipts, chocolate bar wrappers and finally a small crumpled photograph. He held it out shakingly to Harry, who grasped onto it and pulled it from his grasp.
Harry unfolded the photo and nearly stumbled back in shock. Ginny grasped onto his back and forearm, propping him up before widening her eyes at the photograph. Looking to their worried friend on the couch, Remus stared up at them.
“Draco Malfoy has Hermione,” he said in barely a whisper as the photo fell to the ground.
It was a moving photo of Hermione being held at wand point by a sinister looking Draco, eyes crimson red and cheeks sunken in. Right underneath it there was the elegant sprawl of his hand writing stating.
SHE’S DEAD AT MIDNIGHT, POTTER
==============================================================================
Let’s Make Things More Homey
==============================================================================
Voldemort’s hand traced over the smooth flesh of Draco as he held him to his chest. He brought his nose to the crook of his neck and inhaled, closing his ruby eyes and sighed contently.
“I have been looking for you,” he crowed, grasping onto Draco’s throat and holding him still, “For years. I thought once you were stripped of your body you would simply flutter away. Little did I know that this…love…kept you here, binding yourself to the lowly mudblood.”
Draco’s eyes glanced at Hermione, who was lying on the bed hardly breathing. Her skin was a bright shade of blue, eyes watering heavily. She was dying.
“Answer my question, you sick fuck,” Draco spat, unable to physically move from Voldemort’s grasp, “What have you done to Hermione?”
“Why,” Voldemort answered, bringing his lips to Draco’s ear, “She’s dying of course. You wouldn’t think I’d let her live after so long, did you now?”
“Get off of me,” he snarled, trying to move his limbs but it was no use.
“You’re weaker with me present,” Voldemort explained as his tongue darted out and lapped at Draco’s ear lobe, “And this is going to be such a lovely evening…we’re expecting company soon.”
Voldemort grasped onto the back of Draco’s head and yanked it back, causing the blond to growl in pain. He brought his tongue out and licked up the length of Draco’s neck before shoving him forward. Draco stumbled and fell into the vanity, his own form crumpling to the ground. Bringing his hands to his head, Voldemort slicked his long blonde hair back and hissed, sticking his tongue out like a serpent.
“She’s so sweet and supple,” he teased, looking pointly at Draco as he maneuvered to the side of the bed, “So fragile and tender…”
“Don’t fucking touch her,” Draco hissed, crawling to his hands and knees, “Get away from her!”
“You, my boy, are in no position to make demands,” Voldemort said in a matter-of-fact tone, flowing to sit next to Hermione. “Tell me, was she worth it?”
He traced his hand over her broken and bruised form, eyes glaring into Draco’s. “Was she worth dying for?”
“Yes,” Draco huffed, feeling his knees give out as he tried to rise, “I’d die again for her…without hesitation.”
“Really,” Voldemort grinned, tilting his head to the side, “Well, we will see how far you are willing to go for her, boy.”
He grasped onto Hermione’s hair and yanked her to the side. Her screams echoed and filled the silence of the room as the sounds of more breaking bones were muffled. Draco growled and leapt to his feet in a burst of energy, prepared to tackle Voldemort. Voldemort simply looked up and held his hand out, stopping Draco in his place. He flicked his wrist sending Draco flying across the room. Draco let out a grunt as he slammed into the wall and fell to the ground, hitting his head on the floor.
“Get up,” Voldemort commanding, pulling Hermione to him with a yank, “Get up and fight for your witch, Draco.”
“Son of a…” Draco growled, moving again but was once more thrown back.
“Stop…”Hermione pleaded, “You’re killing him…”
“Am I?” Voldemort whispered against her, looking as Draco rose again but this time blood seeped from a cut in his head. “So it seems I am…excellent.”
“Let her go and fight me, you sodding ponce!” Draco snarled, grasping onto the wall to support.
“Language, Draco,” Voldemort nearly cackled, tossing Hermione across the room where she hit the vanity.
Mirror shattered around her when she tumbled onto the desk and then floor. Hermione let out a horrified scream as she rolled onto her back, blood oozing from her cuts. Draco lunged for Hermione but was thrown back by invisible hands. He hit the adjacent wall and begun sliding up it. Gasping for breath, Draco brought his hands to the invisible force – trying to free himself.
Voldemort stepped over Hermione, crunching glass under his boot, with one hand held out. He tilted his head to the side and grinned.
“Even in death you are worthless,” Voldemort said lightly, “Just like your father.”
As he held his second hand out to end the soul in front of him, Voldemort howled in pain and slumped to the ground. He looked behind him and saw Hermione clutching onto a pane of mirror in her bloody hand. She had stabbed him in the calf, looking at him with menacing eyes. Voldemort growled and reached back for her but was grabbed by the back of his head as a fist flew into his face.
“Get out of my fucking body!” Draco snarled, balling his fist up as he punched Voldemort several times, his knuckles bleeding heavily.
Hermione sighed and lowered her head, coughing heavily. He stopped instantly and dropped Voldemort to the ground, moving to Hermione where he tried to piece her back together. His hands flew over her form, trying to grasp onto her but he couldn’t. He couldn’t touch her.
Chuckling from Voldemort filled the room as Draco continued to try and touch her, his face frantic and sweat beading across his forehead. Voldemort lifted himself slowly up, licking the blood from his broke nose and savoring the taste.
“You’re growing weaker,” he laughed, “As she grows weaker…how interesting.”
“Hermione,” Draco whispered, “Hermione!”
“Draco…” Hermione replied back, her lips turning the wrong shade of purple.
She reached for his hand but it slipped over his form and fell to the ground. Draco’s eyes widened a little more as he tried to touch her hand but found that he couldn’t. He gasped as a force pulled him back against the wall, slamming into it hard. His wrists flew from his body and twisted in unearthly ways, pinning him to the wall. Voldemort was standing against Hermione’s bed, clutching onto his nose as he fixed it with a sickening crack. Inhaling with his tongue hanging out, he looked down at Hermione.
“We’re expecting company, my dear,” he laughed, “Let’s make things more…homey shall we?”