Inside the Blackest Heart (Edit, Not Update)

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 42 ~ A Date with a Deatheater

When Draco returned to Slytherin house, he went directly to his room, closed and warded the door, and placed a silencing charm around the room. Satisfied he was secured, he went to his wardrobe, and took a small two-way mirror out of a robes pocket. He walked to his bed and sat down on the edge of it. He held the mirror up.

“Lucius Malfoy,” he said.

He waited a few moments, and the handsome face of his father appeared in the mirror. He was frowning.

“What is it Draco? I told you not to use the mirror unless it was an emergency. I was in a meeting with the Minister of Magic when you called, and was forced to leave early. This better be worth my while or I promise you…”

“It is father!” Draco said eagerly, “Potter wants you to take him to the Dark Lord,”

Lucius blinked at Draco a few times, then stuck a finger in his ear and wriggled it as if it were clogged and he didn’t hear his son clearly.

“Come again?” Lucius said, a perplexed look on his face.

“I said Harry Potter wants you to take him to the Dark Lord, father,” Draco repeated impatiently.

“Potter? Why?” asked Lucius, looking suspicious.

“Because the Dark Lord has his friend, Hermione Granger. I think he wants to try and save her,” Draco said excitedly.

“Most likely the boy would be killed immediately,” Lucius said, “Why would he risk himself?”

“Because he’s an idiot with a hero complex. I don’t know why, but he is serious, father. He wants you to take him,” Draco said, “Imagine the reward you’d receive.”

Lucius’ ice-blue eyes narrowed. He could ask a boon of the Dark Lord if he delivered Potter. He knew just what he’d ask for. Narcissa to be put off-limits to other deatheaters. Joel had bruised her body quite badly when he took her. Lucius loved his wife, even though they both had other lovers from time to time. They never disrespected each other in public and were discreet in their affairs, never flaunting them. It was an odd relationship, but it worked well for them, and they still enjoyed each other immensely. Seeing his wife like that tore at Lucius’ heart. He swore Joel would pay, but he would like to insure it never happened again.

“Tell Potter to meet me at the Hogwarts gates at six tomorrow evening, Draco,” Lucius said, “I will talk to the boy and see what this is about, if he is sincere. If he is…”

“Yes father, I will tell him right away,” said Draco, smiling evilly. No doubt the Dark Lord would acknowledge his part in delivering Potter to him, and the Boy Who Lived would finally be out of his hair for good.

“You do that Draco. You’ve done well,” his father said, fading from the mirror as Draco swelled with pride.

“You’re an ass Potter,” Draco said to himself, “I’m surprised you lasted this long.”

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It didn’t take long for the news to spread that Hermione Granger, Hogwarts’ Golden Girl had gone over to the other side with Professor Snape. The halls were abuzz . Students were gathered in small groups discussing the Head Girl’s fall into darkness. Professor McGonagal was in shock, being treated by Pomfrey in the infirmary. The Gryffindors were all in denial. It couldn’t be. Not Hermione. Not Potter’s best friend.

The Slytherins were ecstatic about the news, gloating publicly that a Gryffindor had been drawn to the side of the Dark Lord. A few duels had broken out between Slytherins and Gryffindors, but were broken up without incident.

Harry stayed in his room, Ron with him. Ron was just flabbergasted. He couldn’t believe Hermione would change sides like that.

“Why would she do it, Harry?” he asked the silent wizard brooding the next bed over.

“She wouldn’t Ron. If Hermione is really with Voldemort, she’s there for a good reason. Maybe to destroy him.”

“But you think she would of told us, Harry,” Ron said, scowling, “she would’ve said something. And to run off with Snape! That greasy git. She hated him.”

Harry didn’t want to tell Ron that Hermione had been shagging the Potions Master. Ron would have exploded, and in his anger, probably would have said something about Hermione that would cause them to fistfight or even duel. Harry wasn’t up to that right now. He was sick to his stomach. Dumbledore planned on killing Hermione. He turned over and looked at Ron.

“I talked to the Headmaster this morning, Ron. They want to kill Hermione before she comes to full power as a Primordial. Now the Order is after Voldemort and her,” Harry said, his eyes sober.

Ron turned several colors.

“They want to k-kill her?” he asked, “Why kill her. Can’t they arrest her and find out why she did what she did?”

“No, she’ll be too powerful. Even if she had a good reason for going to Voldemort, the Order would kill her because she doesn’t want to serve them. She wants to live her own life,” Harry said, shaking his head.

“I never thought I’d ever see the day I didn’t want to be a member of the Order,” Ron said quietly, “I’ve wanted to join them since I was a fourth year. Now, I don’t know…it seems so unfair what they are doing. Hunting down Hermione like a criminal.”

“I just wish I knew why she left with Snape. Dumbledore says Snape persuaded her somehow,” Harry said, rolling over in his bed, and running his hand through his unruly black hair.

“What could Snape have possibly said to her, Harry?” Ron asked

Harry didn’t know. All he knew was the night she left he woke up on the floor by the dungeon corridor entrance. The last thing he remembered was leaving his surveillance spot by Snape’s rooms after seeing Hermione go in after her rounds and not emerge again, like she had done the previous two nights. She hadn’t looked any different, and didn’t have any things with her. He had felt out of sorts as he made his way back. Maybe he had fainted. But the way he woke up on the floor like that, left him feeling something wasn’t right about it.

Suddenly a folded paper airplane flew in through the open window and landed on Ron’s bed. Ron picked it up.

“What’s this?” he asked, unfolding the plane. He looked at it, and turned purple.

“WHAT THE BLOODY HELL!” he yelled, staring at the parchment. Harry sat up on his bed.

“What is it, Ron?” Harry asked.

Ron continued staring at the parchment, his eyes tearing, his mouth set in a grim line. He handed the parchment to Harry, and watch him as the green-eyed wizard looked at it and blanched.

It was a rather realistic drawing of Snape and Hermione. They were shagging in the Potions classroom, Hermione bent over Snape’s desk. It was a wizard’s drawing so it moved, Hermione’s mouth forming an “O” every time the Professor entered her. There was a caption that read “The Head Girl Taking Snape’s Head.” Harry sighed and shook his head, crumpling up the parchment, taking out his wand and setting it aflame.

“What the bloody hell was that, Harry? Are they saying Hermione was letting Snape fuck her? Is that true? It can’t be true, can it?” Ron asked his friend, looking for some confirmation that it couldn’t be. When Harry didn’t say anything, and wouldn’t look at him, Ron recoiled in horror. He’d known Harry long enough to tell when he was trying to hide something from him.

“It’s true, isn’t it Harry?” he said in a deceptively low voice, “Hermione was fucking Snape, wasn’t she? And he turned her.”

“No!” Harry said, “he didn’t turn her!”

“But he was fucking her wasn’t he?” Ron asked him, staring at his friend, daring him to lie to him.

“I think it’s possible, Ron. But I don’t know for sure,” Harry said evasively.

“Why do you think it’s possible?” Ron asked him with narrowed eyes.

Harry told Ron how he had followed Hermione for three nights, and how all three nights she entered Snape’s rooms and didn’t leave. She’d spent the night.

“Fuck, Harry! Why didn’t you tell me?” Ron yelled at him

“What would you have done, Ron? Asked Hermione was she shagging the Potions Master in front of the whole school? Challenged Professor Snape to a duel for her honor? Hermione is the age of consent, Ron. She can fuck who she wants!” Harry said evenly, “It wasn’t my place to tell you, when I hadn’t even asked her what was going on yet. Unlike you Ron, I try to find out the truth before I make my accusations,” Harry said darkly.

“We could have found out what she was doing with him down there in that bat’s cave all night!” Ron said, “We could’ve made her tell us. Then we could’ve told Dumbledore and gotten the git fired. He never could have taken her then!”

“Dumbledore already knew about them,” Harry said quietly.

“WHAT?” Ron shouted.

“The Headmaster knew about them and confronted them, but neither would agree to stop,” Harry said. “Since Hermione is the age of consent, there was nothing Dumbledore could do.”

“Bloody hell, Snape probably gave her a potion or something. Hermione would never be attracted to someone as ugly and old as he is,” Ron said.

“Professor Snape is brilliant too, Ron. Maybe that’s why she was with him. No one else her age could keep up with her mind,” Harry said, searching for straws. ”Besides, her dad is twenty years older than her mum. She doesn’t have a problem with age differences.”

“Just because someone is smart and older is no reason to fuck them, Harry,” Ron said.

“Ron, it was her decision,” Harry said.

“And look where it got her. Now she’s serving Voldemort,” Ron spat.

Harry sat up in his bed, and looked at Ron murderously.

“You take that back,” he said evenly.

“I won’t,” Ron said angrily, “Hermione was nothing more than the Professor’s slu…”

He never got a chance to finish the sentence. Harry flew from the bed and punched Ron in the mouth as hard as he could, knocking him off the bed and on to the floor.

Ron popped back up. He wiped his mouth and blood was on his hand. He looked at Harry with narrowed eyes.

“You shouldn’t have done that Harry. Not for her…what she did, with him…she’s not worth it,” Ron said, standing up and walking toward Harry with his fists balled. Harry raised his fists in a defensive position.

“Some kind of fucking friend you are, Ron. Hermione does something you don’t approve of and you turn on her. Call her names. Accused her of joining Voldemort. So what she fucked Snape? It was her business, not ours. Not yours.” Harry said, moving slightly to the left as Ron approached him.

Ron charged and caught Harry around the middle, bringing him to the floor hard. Both wizards started wrestling and swinging, connecting with whatever part of the other’s body they could. Harry scrambled from beneath Ron and punched him in the eye as he struggled to get up. Ron gave him a good uppercut to the stomach, and Harry doubled over as Ron stood up, breathing heavily.

“Yeah, but it makes sense she’d turn after sucking Snape’s c…” Ron sneered

Harry hit him again and again, throwing a flurry of blows at his friend, who threw his arms over his head to protect his face from the irate young wizard’s attack. Finally Harry backed off of him, tired, bending down and placing his hands on his knees. He looked up at Ron, his chest heaving.

“I hope nothing bad ever happens with me, Ron. If it does, I’ll know I can’t count on you to stand by me,” he said, panting.

“Harry, you’d never willingly go to Voldemort,” Ron said, wiping at his bloody nose with his sleeve.

Harry looked at him.

“You don’t know what I’d do, Ron,” he said in a low voice, “but I will never abandon Hermione. Ever. I don’t care what it looks like she’s done. And I’ll tell you another thing…”

Harry stood up and looked Ron dead in his eyes.

“No one is going to kill Hermione. If they try, they’re going to have to kill me too,” he said. Then he turned and left the room.

Ron sat heavily on the bed, brushing his hair down with his hand and looking after Harry.

Did he just declare war on the Order?

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Harry stormed through the common room. His housemates watched him pass without saying anything to him. Hermione was his best friend. No one wanted to get him upset. Harry pushed his way out of the common room entrance with such force the Fat Lady gave a whoop. He started walking, not knowing where he was going. He just needed to get away from Ron, from everyone.

“Hey Potter!” a familiar voice called. Harry spun to see Draco Malfoy approaching him, sans goons. Harry stopped.

Draco walked up to him and looked him over with an appraising eye. Harry’s robes were half unbuttoned, the buttons gone, and underneath his shirt was pulled out of his pants, a few buttons also missing. Harry also had a bruise on his cheek and his hair looked messier than normal.

“Fighting for Granger’s honor, Potter? A little late for that,” Draco snickered.

Harry grabbed him by his robes, his green eyes blazing behind his glasses.

“Easy Potter, easy,” Draco said, “You don’t want to kill the messenger. I talked to my father.”

Harry released him roughly.

“So what did he say,” Harry said.

“Meet him by the main gates at six tomorrow evening. He wants to talk to you, make sure you’re not trying to set him up,” Draco said, his blue eyes hard, “don’t fuck with my father, Potter. If you get him in trouble, I swear I’ll kill you.”

Harry met Draco’s eyes.

“Don’t worry about that. I’m not interested in getting your father caught. I just want to find Hermione,” he said evenly.

“Well, I’ll be trailing you anyway,” Draco said, “just to make sure.”

“Fine,” Harry said.

“If I were you, Potter, I’d go find Weasley’s sister and get myself a goodbye shag. This is probably your last night on earth,” Draco drawled, walking away.

Harry looked after him, wondering how he knew about him and Ginny. Then it clicked…Ginny was a bit loose sexually, but not so much that Ron heard about it. He’d go berserk.

Harry sighed and decided to head for the owlery. It was quiet up there.

He could clear his head and think about tomorrow.

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A/N: Ron is really a nasty piece of work. But his anger could be attributed to his crush on Hermione. Still he doesn’t show much loyalty. Well, Harry will meet with Draco’s dad tomorrow. Let’s head back to Voldy’s house and see what’s going on there. Please review.