And So It Begins

Disclaimer: Everything contained herein belongs to JK Rowling, except my plot which I have created. All likenesses to anything happening in any of the books is purely coincidental. All grammatical mistakes and errors are my own. I am not making any money off of this.

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Chapter One
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She was the first thing he saw as he hobbled in through the portrait hole. She had obviously tried valiantly to wait up for him. The book lying open across her chest was proof of that. The worn blanket that she had thrown over herself was slipping off her slender legs into a puddle on the floor.

As he slowly made his way to the couch she was lying on, he brought up his wand, muttering a spell at the fireplace to cause the dying embers to spring back to life. He knew this was going to be the longest day of his life, and sleep would not be coming for quite awhile.

He took a moment to gaze at her as she slept. Her bushy hair lay out on the pillow behind her, her pink lips just barely parted, the even rise of her chest as she breathed in and out. She looked too peaceful to disturb and he didn’t want her to see him looking broken and beaten.

He gently removed the book she was reading from her stomach, marked her page and laid it on the table in front of the fire. He winced as he reached down to pull the blanket up over her body, trying to envelop her in the warmth that he knew it would bring.

He started across the common room that they shared, intent on heading to his rooms where he could shed the clothing weighing down not only his body, but his heart as well. He needed to scrub off as much of the filth as he could before he came back out to waken her.

He turned the doorknob and began to ease open the door to head into his own set of rooms, when he heard the betraying squeak of the hinges and knew she would hear it as well.

Just as he feared, Hermione sat up on the couch, looking around. “Malfoy?”

He wouldn’t turn around; he had no intention of letting her see him like this. “Just give me a few minutes, Granger.”

She could tell something had happened. It was in his voice. It was like he was grimacing in pain. She stood up and let the blanket fall from her body as she stood staring at his back.

“Draco?” her soft voice called out to him.

He couldn’t move. His hand stayed resting on the doorknob to his room as his head silently fell forward, his eyes focusing on the floor. He could feel her before she even touched his back. He knew that with her inquisitive nature, she would never let him leave the room to get cleaned up without seeing him first. He wanted to shield her from the pain that she would see within him.

For once in his life, he tried to beg. “Hermione, please let me get cleaned up. I need to…” His voice trailed off as she slid her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek against his back. How she could show such love and compassion to him while he was standing there in his Death Eater robes, holding his cold mask in his hand, he would never understand.

No one would have ever expected that this year’s Head Boy and Head Girl, after having spent the last six years tormenting each other, would have gotten so close in the final year at Hogwarts. But it had happened before either of them had realized, and now the fragile relationship that they shared was being threatened.

Hermione released her hold and gently turned the blond wizard around to face her. His gray eyes were still focused on the carpet, not able to look her in the eye. She gently lifted her warm hand to his chin, and pulled his head up so she could see into his eyes.

He looked worse than she had ever seen him before. He had a long scratch down the side of his face, blood dried to the spot. She could see a bruise forming on his jaw, but it was his eyes that concerned her the most. At first glance, his eyes were flat, hard, passionless, but brimming just beyond the surface, his eyes smoldered with the fire of his love for her. She waited for him to speak, almost afraid of what he was going to say.

Without saying anything, he pulled her body into his, not caring about the pain that shot through him, and crushed his lips down on hers in frenzy. He kissed her, not with the normal gentleness, but with a demanding passion. He fought for control as his tongue swept into her mouth, burning so hot that it felt like liquid fire. He nearly lost it as she moaned in his mouth and wrapped her leg around his thigh.

He broke off, knowing that it had to be said now before anything went any further. He pulled back and looked at her, his expression one of heavy seriousness. His heart soared as he saw the desire and love remaining on her face…the love that he was so desperately craving in these early morning hours.

“I wear the Dark Mark now,” he whispered with a faint tremor in his voice, wishing he could have delayed telling her the truth.

For her credit, she didn’t run away. With those six words, he could see the worry and empathy come into her eyes. She grasped his left hand and reached for the sleeve of his robes. He tried to jerk away from her, not wanting her to see the angry fresh welt on his forearm, but she was stubborn and kept a firm hold on him.

She gently pushed up the cloak to stare down at tattoo that signified the hatred of Muggles and Muggleborns, the hatred of everything she was. She felt the tears burning at the back of her eyes, threatening to spill out.

Gently releasing his arm, she looked him once more in the eye and muttered, “And so it begins…”

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A/N – Thanks to Susan, Dryad & Roxy. All of your comments really inspired me!