Redemption

A/N: Hope you like it. I really appreciate the reviews. They mean quite a bit to me. Thanks to: Eklyptz, kazfeist, margaritama, and angeles for the reviews! Also, thank you to whogirl for pointing out what looked like a mistake on my part as that was very considerate.

Margaritama: Yeah, she didn’t think Draco would find out. Rather devious of her.

“How long have you been fucking him?” Draco bit out angrily; clenching his hands at his sides, his piercing gaze unwaveringly set on Hermione.


“How dare you!” she replied in indignation; affronted.


“Let’s see,” he said in mock consideration, “not only did you fuck him but you attempted to Lie. To. My. Face,” he said with a growl; harshly punctuating each damning word.


The truth was harsh and it left her momentarily speechless. Exactly what did one say in this situation? ‘Sorry I fucked your father. Can we just forget it happened?’ that hardly seemed appropriate or sufficient.


“It only happened once Draco,” his father quietly supplied to appease him.


Although Draco had wanted answers he didn’t want to hear a word out of him. The glare he sent his father would have put a Basilisk to shame. Turning the glare on Hermione he harshly accused, “Did you pick a fight with me just so you could proposition him?” “Or was that just an unexpected benefit?” he asked voice rising; jaw tight.


“I didn’t proposition him!” Hermione yelled in response to his crude accusations; stressing “I” by gesturing to herself with one emphatic hand to ensure that he understood she had done no such thing… his father on the other hand…


“You expect me to believe that my father propositioned you?” he asked skeptically; cruelly, as if insinuating that she wasn’t good enough for his father.


“Actually, you propositioned me darling,” she replied knowingly; emphasizing “you” so as to insinuate what had occurred, using the endearment sardonically in order to further wound.


At his perplexed look, Hermione decided to enlighten him. “He didn’t tell you?” she asked adopting a voice full of false surprise. “He propositioned me posed as you; handy little potion Polyjuice,” she said witheringly.


Draco’s shocked expression turned toward his father begging him with his eyes to deny the ludicrous accusation. “In fact, if I hadn’t realized it was him it would have constituted rape,” Hermione’s cold voice broke through Draco’s whirling thoughts. Snapping his head back, he looked at her with incredulity mingled with fear.


“Don’t look so worried,” she said evenly; dismissively, because both Malfoy men looked uncomfortable, “I’m not charging your father with rape. Not when I agreed to and delighted in every lascivious act,” she finished callously, deliberately goading him.


“I’m a smart girl… his Galleons have kept him out of Azkaban for greater crimes,” she said disdainfully, fixing Lucius with a meaningful look.


Draco was breathing heavily, attempting to control his anger, and then spat, “Sometimes Granger you’re a real bitch.”


“Speaking of bitches,” Hermione stated unfazed, “fuck any backstabbing red headed witches lately? I heard Ginny and Harry hit another rocky patch, a repeat performance perhaps?” she asked snidely.


‘So his son had slept with his lover’s friend. It explained a lot.’ Lucius thought.


“I’ve told you how much I regret it,” he began exasperated. “And, I wouldn’t have thought she would have mentioned it knowing it would hurt you,” he finished.


“Ginny didn’t say a word. Harry told me. Or did you forget that he hates your guts?” she asked mockingly.


Of course he hadn’t forgotten. Boy Wonder had been trying his hardest to drive them apart. And it looked like he finally accomplished his goal.


“Do you have any idea how that feels? To find out your friend slept with…” but Draco didn’t discover how she had classified him as he cut across her.


“I imagine it’s about the same as discovering you were with my father,” he reminded bitingly.


Blinking back tears of hurt and anger Hermione only wanted to hurt him as much as his liaison had hurt her. Although in her fury she didn’t take into account that she had already accomplished that.


“Your mother would’ve been so proud,” she said sarcastically, “taking up with mudbloods and blood traitors,” she said callously; shaking her head for effect.


Draco gulped, a lump of anger and sadness forming in his throat. She knew his mother was a sensitive subject… would be for anyone that wasn’t cold hearted. His mother had pushed him out of the way and took the killing curse meant for him. Some woman had lost her son and in her grief she wanted revenge… any child of Death Eaters could have been targeted… she had just seen him first after his acquittal. Slamming his wand down hard on the table behind him, so he wouldn’t be tempted to use it, nails biting into his balled fists he tried to rein his anger as he was literally shaking with it.


“My, my, would you like to hit me? Curse me perhaps?” Hermione tempted foolishly.


“Miss Granger, I think you should leave,” Lucius told her firmly; both angry at her cruel words and concerned for her safety.


“Stay out of it father,” Draco snapped; not taking his eyes off of Hermione. “I wouldn’t… ever...” Draco attempted to get his point across that he wouldn’t hurt her no matter how angry he got; but his anger was making it difficult to articulate the sentiment.


“You never did have the balls for it,” she meanly threw in his face.


“Your right I don’t,” he stated firmly; his anger lessening due to the familiarity of the taunt. ‘So they were back to this then’ he thought annoyed; the fact that she thought him a coward for his actions during the war. It irritated him that his past actions affected their relationship… it wasn’t as if she hadn’t known, what he had and hadn’t done during the war, going in. But it wasn’t like he would once again stand aside while she was tortured… apparently she thought he would.


“If you feel that strongly, why date me?” Draco asked with trepidation.


“Same reason you are attracted to me. Bit of the forbidden fruit. It seems that you still have a taste for it, if Ginny is any indication,” Hermione answered dryly; folding her arms across her chest.


It may have been partially true in the beginning but he hadn’t felt that way for a long time. Hurt crossed his face as he realized she still felt the way she had at the onset of their “relationship.”


“Don’t look so upset Malfoy, it’s just sex… a bit of company at times,” Hermione coldly assessed their relationship.


“So that’s all I am to you? Someone to fool around with?” he asked crossly albeit a bit thickly; although he displayed his disbelief by raising a questioning eyebrow.


He was always so smug, even when he was upset. So what if he was right? She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Narrowing her eyes she said calculatingly, “If you meant something to me would I have slept with your father?”


“Probably not,” he said numbly. “I hoped you enjoyed yourself then,” he said derisively; a sneer curling his lips.


Smirk in place, Hermione said playfully, “Like father, like son.” Heartlessly utilizing the phrase to indicate she enjoyed both of them sexually; as he knew she enjoyed him, in bed at least.


Knowing how someone felt and hearing how someone felt were two separate things; especially when you cared for them a great deal. Draco finally lost his patience at her most recent utterance and yelled, “Get the fuck out!”


“Something I probably should have done long ago,” she said as she left slamming the door behind her.


At her departure, Draco left to drink himself into a stupor and Lucius stayed in the parlor to give him some much needed space.


As Hermione descended the straight driveway her ire dissipated, step by step, and replacing it was regret. ‘It’s over’ was the constant refrain in her mind. Contrary to what she let Draco believe he wasn’t meaningless to her and she didn’t want it to be over.


With a broken heart and tears clouding her vision she crossed, the entrance, onto the narrow lane intending to disapparate.


A disillusioned hand snaked around Hermione’s neck firmly clasping a damp rag over her nose and mouth. Before she could even scream she was unconscious and the perpetrator had disapparated.