Bittersweet

Chapter Eight

Barton Potter sat straddled in an armoire in Lucius Malfoy’s office. His arms placed over the arms of the chair, he looked uninterested and bored. Still waiting for the man to arrive, he twiddled his thumbs a bit and casually looked out of the window that he could see from a distance.

Clothed in a pair of black leather pants and an opened up silk collard shirt, he sat impatiently. He was an important man and hardly ever waited, he was waited on. Eight months of working with the Malfoy had left him being them both perishing for the same thing. To be ahead.

Potter was an unusual man to say the least, evil to the core and ripped with solid anger. He didn’t like to take orders and had prided himself in what people feared most about him-his demeanor. Potter was a feared name and even though his sibling’s action was the one given the credit, amongst his peers, his actions spoke the meaning of “fear”.

He had killed more men and women then death eaters did in a life time. He had spoken more vial than the next guy and was now on a murdering streak of thousands. He loved it. The grey gleam in his eye spoke the truth and showed no mercy. If he had, had a right eye, it would have spoken the same message. But there was no eye to accompany it. Just a solid void-a terrible aide memoir, which always reminded him to trust no one.

Focusing on the future was what he needed to do though. Past was his history and even though it was grand, more important things were on the horizon-and Malfoy was going to get him to that goal. When the plan had been brought to his attention, he wasn’t as keen on the idea as he was now. He thought that the treachery was child’s play and that it would become nothing. He was wrong. It was more than child’s play; it was a chance for revenge. A chance of a new coming-it was time for his turn on the swing set, and a time to get back at his mud blood mother.

She was the anti-Christ and completing this mission was more than just a chance to get back at her, it was a need he had to fill. The need now in play, he cracked a smile, revenge was ever as sweet. Leaving his father was the last thing, that bitch would ever do-and ruining her other borne would be music to his ears. Soon, the Granger girl would suffer for what her mother had done to him and all his problems would be solidified.

~~

Sunrises were always something she had loved about Hogwarts. The sun waking up and starting a day of daylight was always pleasant. The soft horizon peering into her bedroom window, lights captivating the room with a new day. The feeling of every day starting out with that sunrise gave Hermione a special kind of feeling. A feeling that it was a new beginning, even though there were troubles in her days, there was always that first breath of air and the bright sun on her cheek to make those memories fade away, if only for a moment.

So much had become of her and so much had happened to her, thus far that she didn’t even want to think about it. December was now here and even thinking about going home for Christmas didn’t escape her mind. She had too much on her plate right now and determining if whether or not she had the holiday spirit and if she was going to go home for the holidays was very far from her mind. But, due to other presences, she had to think about it. Running her hands through her hair, she smoothed through all the wrinkles that had appeared throughout the night.

She didn’t want to make her decision today. She normally went home for the holidays, but she just wasn’t feeling cheerful at the time being. She wasn’t doing the best in her studies, her mind wasn’t focused on school rather on a blond haired boy, and she didn’t feel the need to spend time with the one person who didn’t approve of her being a witch; her father. In the past, she would just brush off his advances on her becoming a “normal human being” and on “going to a normal school, where she would learn more important information.” Because, “doing magic tricks” for the rest of her life wasn’t “successful business”.

It sickened her to think of what her father would say this time and didn’t think she could shrug off the disapproving comments or the cold shoulder routine again. She hated it and the only reason she “did” go, was because of her mother. She knew that if she would have stayed at home for the holidays that her mother would throw a fit and be very lonely and that was something Hermione didn’t want to have happen. Her mother was a good person and had always been there for her when she needed guidance.

She sighed with her decision being made. She knew it was the better thing to do. She’d probably be bored at Hogwarts anyway. Ron and Harry were spending Christmas at Ron’s parent’s house again, so it was probably best she went.

After taking a shower, braiding her hair-which she rather ever did, she got dressed in her uniform, gathered her school books, and then headed downstairs to the common room. It was crowded as usual. Professor McGonagall had asked everyone to write down their names if they would be going home for Christmas, thus the needing to decide today. So simply moving her body toward the list, she quickly signed her name below Martha Bloscoe.

Harry and Ron were sitting in a couple of nearby chairs, after she had found her way out of the mess of Gryffindors. They were joking about something and wanting to be apart of the humorous montage, she slowly sat on the armrest.

“So then, Carrie comes over to the desk, picks up the pencil and it turns into a snake. It was hilarious, she screamed so loud, dropped the pencil and then trips on one of the walking erasers. It was classic.”

“That’s so mean” Hermione mentioned with a stern look on her face.

“But Hermione, it was so funny; you of all people should know that Carrie Stranton has done more bad jokes on anyone. Finally got done to her.” Ron said, laughing.

“True” Hermione agreed.

The girl was a pain in her backside. Last year she had tortured Hermione with a evaporating quills and had made Hermione’s History of Magic class hell. She had kept using the evaporating charm on her, making her quills disappear. It was a nightmare.

“But, that’s no reason for you to do the same.” She continued.

“Ah come on Grangy, lighten up.” Ron said, while laughing with Harry.

Hermione rolled her eyes in disapproval. She never did agree with the stunts her and Harry would pull on students, especially a fellow Gryffindor.

“So how are we feeling today?” Harry asked Hermione curiously.

“Doing better, I’m not sure what I had, but it’s gone now.”

Harry smiled at his friend and still curious as to why she was sick, didn’t want to ask anymore questions on the subject knowing that it would probably piss her off. He suspected that it was that time of the month and some time in the Hospital Wing did her good.

“Well I suppose we should go to breakfast. You coming?” Hermione asked as she got up from the armrest.

“Yeah, we’ll be there in a sec. I gotta tell Harry something…you know… guy stuff.”

She rolled her eyes again.

“Very well” she finally said and walked out of the portrait hole, leaving the two boys to themselves.

“Now, I gotta tell you what we did to her the following day! Oh this is a good one!”

~~

His emotions had been swung around his head, dragged for forty miles and then had trapped him in a cage with no way out. He didn’t know what he was feeling, or why he was feeling them. But, he had been torn from the inside out. He had been fantasizing about her day and night. Trying to keep away from her wasn’t helping matters and although he thought that was the answer to his problems, it was only the beginning.

He didn’t know why he had to feel this way. He didn’t feel this way about females. He was incapable of it. He was a get it, leave it and go kinda guy and wanting to stay in a relationship, if that’s what you called them, wasn’t’ usually his ultimatum. He just didn’t flow that way.

His life was a mess and Pansy wasn’t helping matters. She had already purchased the dress, hired the caterer and had picked out the flowers. The only thing they hadn’t done was set the date. Something she had been hording him for.

“If you don’t pick the date, I will and it will be a lot sooner, than you might like”

She was like cattle on grass-eating him down to size until there was nothing left but dirt. It was a living nightmare. His father wasn’t any better. He kept reminding him that his induction ceremony was well on its way, along with his marriage. It was like getting ready for your own funeral and knowing the date. He was just simply miserable.

He knew that Hermione was feeling the same way about him. She continued to stare at him in potions and in the Great Hall. She simply couldn’t get enough of it, and he couldn’t get enough of her looking at him. Why were they simply refusing to be with one another? He assumed that she didn’t like the fact that Pansy was on his shoulder every second of the day or of the fact that she knew that they were indefinitely going to get hitched. He didn’t know the reason. Only his own, and the only reason he could formulate was that he didn’t think that pushing himself more onto her was going to improve his mental state. He simply just wanted her. It was becoming more difficult to deal with each day and seeing her talk to her friends and watching guys drool all over her wasn’t helping matters, simply making them worse.

He couldn’t take it anymore, so after Lunch, he caught her off guard as she left the Great Hall with Potty and Ronny.

“Granger, I need to talk to you.”

“What do you need to talk to her about?” Ronny had asked, stepping in front of her and Draco. Ronny looked pathetic standing in front of her, his chest out.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business and I think that she can speak for herself. You don’t feed her as well or do you? Because…that would be kinda cute.” Draco joked. Teasing the boy was one of his favourite pastimes.

“Ron, it’s okay.” Hermione said stepping to the side.

“I need to ask you some questions about our Advanced Potions lesson.” Draco said, looking deep into her eyes with concentration. Giving her the idea, he slowly looked behind her.

“Guys, I can take it from here. I’ll meet up with you later.”

“Are you sure you are going to be okay with him…alone.” Ron said, still unsure of the situation.

“It’s okay.” Hermione said, trying to reassure her friend.

“Okay”

When the boys were gone, Draco grabbed Hermione’s arm and dragged her quickly into an empty classroom. They both fell into the nearest wall.

“God it’s been such a long time.” Hermione said, kissing Draco harder than she had in a very long time.

He kissed her more passionately using their tongues to do the talking. They moved quickly against the wall, removing their clothes. Their hands touching all around, caressing and fondling each other, they felt and breathed each other. Not wanting the feeling to end.

Running her hands through his hair, she felt as his hands made his way down into her. Touching and moving in and out of her, his hands did the work that she needed done. Making her full of wanton and passion they succumbed to the passion that they had so desperately wanted. Becoming one with each other, they filled that passion. As he moved inside of her, she felt a burning sensation erupt within her. There was no more Hogwarts, there were no more friends, family. There were only them.

They repeated the passion over and over. Moving along the wall mutually with one another, not caring about the consequences, only about what they wanted to feel and about the feeling of touching each other. Hands in places they so longed to touch, feelings they so longed to feel, the enrapture of passion was more than they could bare.

When they both came, it was a volcano of sensation, erupting a desire that was uncontrollable. She smiled against his neck, as he licked her chest fulfilling every taste. She broke from him and for the first time-looked into his eyes and he into hers-and feeling safe in his embrace, and he in hers.


~~

“The time will come; you just have to be patient”

“Patient? Whose talking about patience, I’m talking about how too chicken **** you are at not moving in on the plan. I don’t trust that you will live up to your side of the bargain Mr. Malfoy.”

“Don’t talk to me about loyalty Mr. Potter. I have been working on this plan for months and if you have any doubts on my loyalties and where they lye, you should take up with the master, because I’m not going to be called a liar in my own home. Is that clear?”

“I will do what I want, I just want to make sure that you aren’t backing out of this and making your own little “plan” behind my back. If I am going to make myself known to the world, I suggest you make it perfectly clear that I won’t be doing any extra “favors” for you, just because one of the major players in this game is your son.”

“If I even gave a damn about my son, I wouldn’t have agreed to this little “plan” in the first place. He being my son is the least of my problems and he being in the way isn’t a problem, unless you make it one. Now, if you would excuse me, I suggest you pull that stick out of your ass and get back to work, because frankly I have better things to worry about.”

Barton Potter watched the heated man walk out of his own office in a huff. The man obviously didn’t know how to control his temper and obviously had a problem being called a liar. Barton didn’t care what he thought; the only thing he cared for was getting his revenge. Making that clear to his fellow employees was some matter of importance. He didn’t care how heated they got in an argument with him. All he cared for was the plan and when it went into action. He hated waiting like a sitting duck. It made no sense to him and sitting around waiting for the right opportunity was lunacy.

Why didn’t they make it time? It wasn’t like they couldn’t have raided the castle on their own. They had done it before. Being patient wasn’t one of Barton’s strong points, which had been made perfectly clear.

“Patience is what makes us powerful” a voice came from the darkness.

Barton turned around to see a dark cloaked figure. He didn’t need to ask who it was. He knew perfectly well, who and what it was. The man always made unexpected appearances. He was always the man of the hour and his appearances, whether they came or not, where always important.

Voldemort had helped Barton in more ways than one, and he respected the man for that. He always listened to him, but still had opinions that he had stressed to the man.

“You have become stronger every day. I wouldn’t want you to throw that away over this.”

“I don’t need his stupidity ruining what we have planned.”

“Don’t worry about him, he will come through. He always does. Trusting inhabitants around you will make things for the better.”

The way he always guided Barton reminded him of a father teaching his son how to curse someone, or how he had seen other fathers teaching their kin the process to kill a muggle. It was magical in a way that they would give the time to organize their killing strategies to perfection. It was the only father-son time he had ever seen, and it reminded him so much of the way Voldemort instructed him. Not knowing his father, it helped him become a better man.

Barton’s father was a simple man. Brother to James Potter and Uncle to Harry Potter, he had fled when he was caught killing muggles in the late seventies, just about the time that Barton was born. Having a muggle mother, his mother regretting her affair, she had abandoned him. Only fifteen years later did he discover who his father and mother actually where.

Being rescued by Voldemort when he was just a baby was more fortunate then he could ever imagine. When he had come to age, Voldemort taught him skills and how to be a good death eater. He would need those skills to fulfill his mission. When he was only fourteen, he knew more than most wizards and was feared by most death eaters. Being raised and taught by the Dark Lord had given him more advantages then most.

Since he had realized just what had happened to him, he had promised himself that he would have revenge on the woman who had left him for dead and for what she had done to his soul. His father now in Azkaban, he told himself that he would someday come face to face with his father again. But today wasn’t that day and torturing his mother wasn’t either. Those days would come and when they did, he would have revenge, he would have fulfilled his life long journey.

“Trusting those among you can lead to unfortunate events.” Barton said, as he pointed to the missing eye, where a dark socket laid.

“Trust is a strange thing. Believing in it or not, it is still there. Making others believe that you trust them will leave them vulnerable. Isn’t that what you want?”

“Yes”.

“Then I expect you to trust Malfoy. You may not believe him to have loyalties, but if he believes you vulnerable, he can walk all over you. Do you understand?”

“Yes Master.”

“Good, now I have a little side work I want you to do. Come with me.”

Barton got up from his chair and left with the office with The Master, listening intently to his assignment in full detail. He would change the attitude he had with Malfoy. Getting what he wanted was all he cared about. Making himself vulnerable was definitely not something he wanted. The git would get him what he wanted, whether he liked it or not.

He didn’t know the man’s true feelings on the matter, but if they were going to work together, he was going to find out-the easy way or the hard way-only Malfoy could answer that question.

~~

Two weeks had passed since he had last been with her. More things had happened this year than he wanted to. He was starting to have “feelings” that weren’t just of the sexual nature, but of a closeness and a boundary that he never thought he’d cross, least of all with her.

Decisions had been made on both parts and whether he wanted to admit it or not, he couldn’t go back to what was already done. She had changed him, not only his feelings, but also his actions towards her. With this done, he still hated what he was feeling, and tried to push the temptations away, but was always unsuccessful in this demeanor. Messing with a Gryffindor, in the way that he had, was breaking every boundary and rule that was set for him. Those rules weren’t to be broken- a known fact, that if those boundaries were crossed, there would be severe consequences.

He knew that his father’s wrath would never end. He tried to not think of the punishment that would be initiated-a week in the barracks? Slashes? Actually facing these dangers was the least of his worries. It was the conclusion to these punishments. To some manor, he didn’t care. He knew that his father was a worthless piece of flesh, but there was only so much a person could take.

Draco wanted this to end, but in his mind, he couldn’t. He wanted to just move on with his life, but he was trapped. Hermione had tried to see him on several occasions, but he had told her to leave him be. He needed to figure things out for himself. He didn’t know how to solve his predicament and didn’t even try to. He had pushed her aside and the feelings he longed to have.

He still saw himself as a punk who messed with people to get ahead and having her wanting him was something he didn’t deserve. She was the opposite of what he merited.

Pansy still wasn’t helping matters. Christmas right around the corner and she was planning to announce their engagement over the Christmas feast. Something Draco dreaded more than anything. He was keeping that from Hermione and didn’t want to see her wrath of all things.

Their marriage was upon him and he was finding less strength to avoid the inevitable. He didn’t know how to stop what was to come and knew that running was a cowardice thing to do, something Draco was not.. If a marriage was what the woman wanted, he had no choice but to succumb.