Ultimatum

Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with Harry Potter except the plot to this story.

A/N: This is not a oneshot. I’m not sure exactly how many chapters it will have but it will be longer.

Enjoy!

Ultimatum

Hermione cowered further into the corner as she heard the door slam shut. He had come again, come to degrade her and torture her and humiliate her.

She looked up into his eyes, expecting to see the smugness that he usually carried when he came to her dungeon. Instead she saw anger. He walked over to her and pulled her up from her position on the floor by her hair. He looked into her eyes. “Time for an ultimatum, Granger. Either you join us now or I will have to kill you,” he said in the voice that she hated and yet loved so much.

Hermione turned her face away. “I’m not going to be a Death Eater, Malfoy,” she said softly. “I would rather you kill me.”

“Kill you, yes. Torture you…?” he left the statement hanging. She knew that he was going to do this to her. It had been three months now since she had been captured. Supposedly, there had been a meeting for the Death Eaters and her, Harry, and Ron had been planning to ambush them. Unfortunately they had already known of this ambush and instead the trio had been captured. Ron had died in the struggle, trying to save Hermione’s life and Malfoy had told her just a few weeks ago that Harry had finally died in his cell.

Hermione looked into the pale grey eyes of her captor and knew it was him that had told the Death Eaters of their plans. He had pretended to be on the Order’s side but had instead betrayed them. For three months now Hermione had been in this cell, everyday receiving some sort of new torture from the prat.

And she hated herself—repeatedly slamming her head again the brick of the wall and mentally as well as physically castigating herself—because even though he tortured her and humiliated her and used a different twisted toy on her almost every day, she had grown to love him.

“Do you want to be tortured, Granger?” he asked softly. “You do, don’t you. You’re probably soaking wet for me right now, you filthy little cum whore.”

Hermione lowered her gaze as she felt a renewed rush of juices. She hated herself for it, for not only falling in love with the Pure-blooded prat but also for enjoying his torture, him bringing out the true masochist in her.

He said the familiar spell that wound binds around her wrists and pulled her arms up over her head, making her hang from the ceiling with only her tip toes for support. He did this spell to her often, making her the most vulnerable to his beatings.

“Just say that you’ll be a Death Eater,” he said and stood by her.

“No,” she said, looking into his eyes. He thought that it was because she was still a part of the Order and that she still felt loyal to them. Unfortunately, almost everyone from the Order was dead and even if there were enough to do anything, Harry was gone and he was the only one who could ever defeat Voldemort.

No, the true reason that she didn’t want to become a Death Eater was—

“Granger! Look at me!”

—him.

She brought her eyes to his. She saw the grey depths shining with anger but there was a hint of sadness to them. “Kill me, Malfoy. I won’t do it.”

“Don’t make me kill you, Granger,” he said and she caught the vulnerability in his voice.

“I’m not going to be a Death Eater, so you might as well.”

“I’ll torture you, Granger.”

“Do your worst,” she said, bowing her head and looking at her dirty toes.

Surprisingly he didn’t reach for his whip—he always liked to use that first—or any other means of torture that he usually inflicted upon her. He simply stepped away from her, crossed his arms across his chest and looked at her.

“What are you doing?” Hermione asked.

“Torturing you,” he said.

Damn him! He knew exactly what she wanted and was going to take it from her. He wasn’t going to give her the painful pleasure she loved. His hot breath hit her ear as he whispered dirty things. “I know what you like, Granger. You like to have me do things to you. You like the pain and the overwhelming amount of pleasure that I give you. You like it when I whip you. You like it when I shove you down on your knees and force my cock into your mouth. You love it when I finally take you. I know you want it, Hermione, and I’m not going to give it to you unless you agree.”

Hermione was soaking and in a quivering hormonal mess when he moved away with a smirk gracing his patricianly features.

“Admit that you love it,” he said.

Hermione just shook her head and wished to every deity that she had one hand free so that she could relieve herself of the tension he caused. “Why else would you be so wet?” he questioned. When she made no reply he shook his head.

“You want to be tortured then?” he asked. She made no reply again and then he heard a soft moan. “What?” he asked. He grabbed her chin and brought her face to meet his. Tears were running down her face and she sniffled softly. Her eyes were closed. “Why are you crying?” he asked, trying to make it sneering but a hint of sincere sympathy laced it.

“Draco, I—I just…”

“What?” he asked again, his voice softening just a little.

She opened her eyes and found his. “Let me keep you,” she said. Then she lowered her eyes and looked back down to her feet.

“What do you mean?” he asked, genuinely confused.

“You said…you said in the beginning that—that if I agreed…” she sniffled softly, “that this would stop.” She met his eyes again. “I don’t want it to stop.”

Draco almost laughed. “That’s what this is about?” he asked. She nodded. “Granger, Hermione, yes, you can keep me. I don’t want it to stop either and I don’t intend it doing so anytime soon.”

She smiled. “But what about Voldemort?” she asked with a slight frown.

“Love, I wouldn’t even be here is he didn’t approve.”

“I just have one more condition then,” she said.

“Conditions?” Draco asked.

“Yes. One, I get to keep you. Two,” she lowered her eyes again. “Never let anyone else touch me again.”

“If anyone else touches you, I’ll kill them with my bare hands,” Draco said, his voice full of possessiveness, remembering the last time someone else had touched her. For the last three months he had had to torture this beautiful woman into being on the Death Eater’s side. Of course, when he found that it turned her on more than hurt her, he had much more fun doing it.

The problem was that he was supposed to make her his slave like all the others had done. He didn’t want her to be a slave though, he had stupidly fallen in love with her during the last three months.

He didn’t realise it completely until after Potter’s death. He had told her about Potter dying and then left her alone for three days so she would have time to grieve and hopefully not take it out on him that her best friend was dead. When he had gone back to her, instead of throwing the closest possible thing at him, she had instead thrown herself at him, begging him to just take her slow that night and help her forget everything. And he had. That was when he realised that he was in love with the beautiful brunette witch.

“Then I agree, Draco. I will become a Death Eater. I just want you.”

“And you’ll have me,” he said. “Just sit tight a moment. I promise that I’ll be right back. I have to go talk to the Lord before I can take you from here.”

“You’re leaving me?” she asked.

“When I return, we will go to my manor and you can sleep on a real bed for once and we can get you a nice shower and anything else that you want,” he said. He said a quick spell to release her from her binds and she wrapped her arms about his neck.

“That sounds great, Draco, be quick,” she said and kissed him softly on the lips. Before the kiss became full out snogging, Draco reluctantly pulled back.

“When I return, we’ll pick this up in a much more comfortable milieu,” he said and quickly made his way to the door before he was tempted to ravish her in the dungeon cell.

A/N: How do you like it so far? Leave me a review and tell me what you think. Smut will come in the next chapter.

Temptress~