Tainted White

THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU TO THE FASTEST BETA ALIVE....CASSIE.

CHAPTER FIVE


Days had no name, no number...and no colors, nothing that would distinguish them from each other.

If it were not for Martha, Hermione would probably already be insane and talking to herself.
Martha made it easier, not to think.

Harry was on her mind daily. So was Ron. She knew they must be worried sick.

\'\'Martha, please...they do not have to know who sent it. You write it. Just tell them that I am alive. They will go insane...
I have been missing for ...for how long?\'\'

\'\'Two months...Don\'t make me do it. I can\'t help you.\'\'

\'Two?\'

\'\'I do understand, I truly do...but ...if they could just know...\'\' and she stopped.

‘If they knew what, Hermione? That you have spent two months under his roof, and made no serious attempt to escape? Would he believe you? Would Harry believe that Malfoy left you intact? For two months…sixty nights? Would you tell him who has been haunting your dreams, waking you up sweaty and breathless at nights? Would you confess? Or, would you lie to him?

You would lie to Harry. Because, how could you tell him the truth when you can\'t even confess to yourself.
He would turn his back on you. Would you survive it? Him denying you? No you wouldn\'t, you know there would be no life with him despising you.

You failed Hermione. The one thing you were not supposed to do.

Do you still want him to know that you are alive? Alive at the Malfoy Manor. Or do you think he would rather have you dead?’

Martha interrupted her thoughts. \'\' Ms, Ms there is no need...no use to...to send him a message.\'\'

Her stomach flipped. Heart stopped. Knees almost gave out. “Wh…”

Martha looked at her, with tears in her eyes and handed out The Prophet.
Hermione stepped back, looking at the papers as if they were plagued.
Her fists folded on her chest. \'\' You are lying! He made you lie to me!\'\'

Martha just offered the papers once more. Just lifted them up a notch.
“ No one knows where Mr. Potter is. Lost after the battle, there is still a chance…”

Hermione shook her head violently \'\'Ron?\'\' Her voice was already wet with tears.

Martha remained silent.

Then the pain came again.

\'\'NO! No, no...no ...no...\'\'

Hermione grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. \'\'Where is he?\'\'

\'\'He is not at the Manor...He\'ll come...\'\'

Hermione whispered \'\'...tonight. \'\'

She\'ll be awake. She\'ll wait.

********


A whole day of crying left her exhausted. She was curled up on the chair by the window
.
How did they get to this place? When did they lose their childhood? Ron, Ron, Ron...sweet and funny and ...devoted.
She whished that she could see that brilliant smile again. Touch his hair. She wanted to hug them both and go wherever they were.
Why didn\'t they take her with them? She would rather be dead than left alive behind without them.

She had no strength to fight. She has mourned them both...Harry...she lost twice. Hermione was destroyed.
When Malfoy comes, she will just give in, he will take her to his Lord, and they will all glare. They will tell her things to make her suffer more.

What if Harry was alive...captured and brought to Voldemort? They will use her to cause him pain.
They will use her to break him, to make him fall down on his knees...in front of that scum.


She heard the door open. Hermione said goodbye to everything she once had.
To everything, she loved and she waited for him to come closer.

When he reached about half of their distance, she got up. He stopped, and waited.

She walked slowly towards him, and when she was just a few steps away, she raised her arms so that her palms clasped together,
somewhere in front of his chest. Without taking her eyes away from his, she said
\'\' You won. Here. Take me. Take me to your Lord. Do whatever you have to do. You left me with no reason to live. \'\'

The silence was so heavy so loud…So present and Consuming.

She watched his face. Cold face. A Beautiful face…Angelic .
White, tainted with hate. Flashes of humiliation, pain... and the word Mudblood went through her mind.

She saw shoulders, broad...to protect or crush you.
She watched hands reaching for hers...Fingers long...to caress you or pull your heart out and squash it.
She needed...comfort.

He looked at her face taking her in.

The beauty of her tears.

Sorrow looked so good on her. He was finally there. It turned out the way he planed it. She was broken...
and he was about to pick up the pieces...and glue them back together, just the way he wanted it and then she will belong to him only to him.
She will not be able to run away, she will have no choice other than the wrong one. She will have to stay.
After this night, she will have nowhere to go. His blood was boiling...but he had to go slow...This was the battle he already won...
all he had to do now was take the award....Never in his life he wanted something so badly as he wanted to take her...now.

He untangled her fingers, one by one...slowly.

The touch...that touch...made the breathing heavier, louder...so present...consuming. It made the air warmer, mouth drier. Pain stronger.
That touch made the world disappear; both their worlds.

Those eyes, damn silver eyes...unreadable, were getting closer, deeper... She will slip...she will sink; she knew it, so she just breathed out “…kill me.”

And he did, with the touch of his lips on hers...It was the most painful death she could imagine because she responded. Every movement of his body made a little piece of her soul die. Every stroke of his tongue against hers made it impossible to go back. She had no one to return to and no reason to go back.
Nothing.


His lips were soft. Warm. His kisses were sensual, slow...tormenting…so wrong...

She let the pain lead her, when she unbuttoned his shirt and pealed it off. Skin...that skin she dreamt about...The skin that was calling her palms to roam over it. She let them.

He closed his eyes for a split second and, afraid that she might disappear if he did not watch her, he held her forearms...touched the skin that had already bruised with his touch once.

She found scars...and leaned in to kiss them...
His grip tightened...as he closed his eyes again. He felt her fingers undoing his belt, and then his pants...she pushed them over his hips...enough to make them fall down...He wanted to push her against the wall, and just...take her. All his instincts were telling him to, but he had to fight them. He could not risk it.

He lifted her up and carried her to the bed and she felt safe.
When he laid her down, she felt safe. When he got on top of her, she felt safe. When he pulled her nightgown up her thighs, to her waist, she lifted her upper body a bit to help him...bare her to his eyes.

\'So beautiful... amazing… pure.\'

The silk underneath her was cold...unlike the silk atop of her...
But when he started to kiss her, again it made no difference.

The kisses deepened, traveled down her throat, her chin, to his earlobe...Touches were burning through them both...burning into the flesh leaving scars.

She let him do everything...everything he wanted.

Her head fell to her right as he entered her...and the physical pain he caused met the other one. The one she felt when she saw the dark mark on his left arm. White tainted. The mark she fought so hard against. The mark that killed so many ... the mark that symbolized materialized evil and she gave in to a man who was one of them.

He was gentle. He was everything he was not supposed to be. The pain was ripping her body...but she did not care. She welcomed the physical pain...that one will go away. The one that was splitting her soul was there to stay forever.

She needed him to hurt her ...

Because the aching body was making her forget her crushed heart.
One pain was making the other go away.

Then the pain started to change...into weakening pleasure...and she started to cry.

He knew how to do it...what places to touch, how to kiss her, caress...what sounds to make to show her that she left him helpless lost inside her. He was slowly speeding up, making the pleasure present, more intense...making the tears run faster.

Draco was watching her tears, brilliant...as she was. He knew why she was crying. Because he made her feel it, he made her see it. They were perfect together and he couldn\'t help it but to leave her lips and kiss her tears...taste them. It only made him want her more...it made it harder to hold back. So he reached down to the back of her thigh and raised her leg around his waist...he got deeper...deeper into the heat.

In a split second, he knew, there was no turning back for him either.

He felt her arch and stiff under his weight and her crying became louder...with one last thrust he let himself go...Draco pressed his forehead to her temple as he still gently moved inside of her, relishing the feel and the sound and the taste of her.

It was...unreal. She could not be compared to anything before...because everything before that night vanished.

Tonight, she will let him hold her because she needed a human touch.
Tomorrow, she will want to disappear...trash the mirrors so that she can\'t see what she’s become.

A_N Please leave your reviews. I neeed them