Drowning in Reality

Written as prior to the events of Deathly Hallows, this fic is written as though DH did not happen! This is a mature fic, very mature. Please rate it and tell me what you think. I'm also looking for a Beta so let me know if you're willing to help.

Note-If you like the story, please rate it and leave reviews, I would really appreciate all the feedback I can get.

----
Hermione Granger couldn’t sleep. She lay in her bed; her amber eyes were glazed from lack of rest and stared blankly at the ceiling. Reeling still from her dream she pulled back the covers to her bed and walked towards the balcony. Staring out the window at the luminescent moon she cried.

“Hello Miss Granger, so wonderful to finally- meet you.” His inhuman hands snaked up her torso, and she fought the urge to hurl knowing it would only give him the power he so craved. “No salutations for me, Miss Grange? Tisk tisk.”

“I have nothing for you, you sick bas-” His hand shot out and clutched her throat as he pressed his body against her back. He allowed the other hand to make lazy circles on her abdomen. “I do not fear you- Voldemort. I despise you, I find you revolting, I think you’re a power hungry sadist who deserves no respect.”

“You must learn to respect me Hermione Granger, or you will be PUNISHED! Crucio!” She fell to the dusty stone floor in writhing agony, screaming despite her fight to remain strong under his torture. “Now Miss Granger, where are the Potters?”

“Safe.” Clutching at her chest, feeling as though her rib cage would burst from beneath the skin and allow her still beating heart to roll at Lord Voldemort’s feet, she spat.

“And you will not reveal their residence to me?” Dust beneath him seemed to scatter as he propelled his hovering being toward her. “No? Then you shall suffer, just as James and Lily suffered. Just as the rest of your beloved Order will suffer. And then you will die, Miss Granger, along with the rest of your pathetic Mudbloods and all who oppose my power. Crucio!” Agony, sheer agony but she was prepared and she braced her body, locking what felt like every bone and muscle in her body. She drew her mind inside herself and allowed herself to be free of pain even as her body suffered. Before she realized it was over, he hauled her up toward him and stood her on knees she was surprised did not buckle. His hands, the inhuman scaly hands, slipped underneath her jeans and found her. When they streaked across her core and found it completely dry Voldemort was infuriated. “Don’t you find me satisfying Miss Granger? Am I not man enough for you?”

“You are no man.” She hissed beneath clenched teeth, her back remained straight despite the disgust. Feeling his fingers exploring what was hers to give very nearly snapped her control. “You may take my body, you lord of Hell but you can’t take my pride. And you will never have Harry’s hiding place.” With what strength she could muster she whipped around, pulling his wand from beneath his robes and holding it in front of her. When he sneered she jerked her hand, but he didn’t flinch.

“You impudent child, you haven’t the guts-“

“For your sake, I hope you’re right. Oh wait, I hate you, you’re despicable and vile. You’re a murderer who has taken the lives of my loved ones, of my friends. Avada-” She stared, worriedly, fearfully, when the door to his dungeon flew open and Draco Malfoy came through the door.

“Sectumsempra! Petrificus Totalus!” He screamed, his wand held high and she watched as the Dark Lord crumpled, his body fell and a lightning split in his skull appeared to spill infinite blood. “Granger, let’s go!”

“But you, you’re a death eater!”

“More than meets the eye, Granger, I’m a spy. Now let’s go! We have to disapparate. Now!”

“Malfoy.” When he didn’t turn she whimpered, staring at her hands and then the rest of her body. “Malfoy, help!” Blood, her blood, was flowing out of her skin, in the shapes of hands, the shapes of his hands. “Malfoy-”

Her hand rubbed absently at the pulse in her temple. Another migraine, she thought, due to another night of fitful sleeplessness. She couldn’t manage to forget, not for a moment her hours spent in the Dark Lord’s dungeon. Her skin crawled at the very mention of his name, and she could very nearly feel his hands on her body.
A petite woman of twenty, Hermione Granger had grown into herself. When her hair had finally begun to defrizz in the beginning of her third year at Hogwart’s it had been a god sent miracle in her eyes. Now, years after leaving Hogwart’s, she was a grown woman of breathtaking beauty. Her amber eyes were anything but an ordinary brown, they held secrets, and eminent pain, and they were above all, mysterious. She had a petite frame at five feet three inches, paired with exquisitely feminine curves in all the right places. The hair that had once been a mass of matted mess was now sleek and fine with charming waves and curls. It was, in fact, her favorite part of her body aside from her breasts. Hermione was more than content with her body and the life she lived. A prominent member of society and an esteemed member of the Order of the Phoenix, Hermione had more than she could ever ask for.

But the dreams wouldn’t leave her and held her in their clutches despite the treatments and the months that had passed. Lord Voldemort was still alive. Mind you most of his Death Eater’s were dead, imprisoned or had left his graces, but he was still alive and Hermione knew she could never be entirely safe. Looking back, she remembered all of her history with Voldemort, how she’d first seem him in the Department of Mysteries in fifth year; but that hadn’t been the beginning of her relationship with Voldemort, no, it had been the turning point. By being friends with Harry Potter, she’d had a connection with the Dark Lord since she was 11 years old. Now that nearly ten years had passed, Voldemort was still a very prominent threat in her life. Living in fear of death and torture, hoping beyond all other hopes that if she ever met the Death Eaters or Voldemort again, she would have the strength to keep Harry’s secret, left Hermione feeling vulnerable and weak.

Hermione was an auror, along with Harry, and Draco. But she still had reservations about her past enemy, reservations that Harry seemed to have left behind him. In fact, he and Harry were thick as thieves. She trusted him with her life, so why did he still manage to make her so nervous? Ron had gone on to work for his father at the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, his vocation, possibly, brought on by being the younger brother of Fred and George Weasley.

She was running her fingers through her hair, sighing about why the bloody hell she couldn’t sleep when bright green smoke brought Ginny Weasley-Potter into her room.
“Gin? What are you doing here? It’s not safe! You should be with Harry and the twins!”
“Yeah yeah, I know but I could practically feel your restless footsteps in my brain.” Ginny gave her a reassuring smile. She’d been Ginny Potter for about two years and been a mother of twins for a year and three months. It was pretty much common knowledge when the boys were conceived. “Can’t manage to sleep then? Me either. Something’s strange.” The summer before her seventh year Ron and Harry gave Hermione the boot, saying she couldn’t go with them on their quest for the Horcruxes. “Hermione you’re the smart one, you’ve got too much going for you to just throw it away on these Horcruxes. We can still communicate, we’ve the help of the Order behind us now and the whole of the Wizarding world.” She’d fought like a shewolf until she finally realized they wouldn’t budge. “But Harry! McGonagall will let us do the seventh year by correspondence- she’s already said, Harry!” But she’d already lost, they wouldn’t take her with them and she was forced to go back to school without her two best friends. Knowing she’d have to answer her classmates questions, she almost dreaded leaving the Burrow and returning to the school. Then she received a letter. The beautiful golden and white owl was tapping gingerly at the window just to her left at the kitchen table. Rather quizzically she untied the parchment from the owl’s pinkish leg and read the name on the outside. ‘To Miss Hermione Granger- The Burrow’ Wondering who would send her a letter she turned it over, and let out a shriek of delight when she recognized the Hogwart’s seal.

“Dear Miss Granger,
It is my immense pleasure to inform you that under the express last wishes of Headmaster Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore you have been chosen as Hogwart’s Head Girl. Please report to the Heads compartment on the 1st of September. Good Luck, Miss Granger.
Headmistress McGonagall”

She’d been ecstatic about returning to Hogwart’s after that.

“Ginny- you don’t think- he wouldn’t- you don’t think Voldemort is back do you? That he’s returned to the country?” Her voice was shaking and she couldn’t manage to stand still. The thought of Voldemort on the rise again made her sick.

“I don’t know Hermione, something just doesn’t feel right.”

"I feel it too, the chill when there is no cold, the fitful sleeps, the dreams that won't stop. Gin I have a really bad feeling-" She broke off when her fireplace went up in green smoke again and Harry emerged from the flames with Draco. "Get out! Go home! You know-”

"It's not safe here. I know. But Ginny was gone and I couldn't very well not check to see she got in okay, could I? So I brought Draco. He's in a bit of a predicament see. Having been disinherited, you know? Well the landlord of his muggle place saw him doing some magic and got a little bit freaked out. So-”

"Harry might I speak to you privately- darling?” Ginny's voice was dripping with venom, and her face had grown an impressive shade of red that rivaled her hair. Dragging him off by the front of his shirt they stood across the room. Just out of ear shot. Hermione smiled awkwardly at Draco. “Draco Malfoy will not live in my house, I do not care if he is your best friend and we love him, he will not live in my house! He can live in his own house. He does need to live in my house. He does not need to live in my house, Harry, even though you want him too, actually he can’t pretty much because you want him to.”

"But Ginny-”

"No-”

"But Ginny you don't understand-”

"Oh yes I do Harry James Potter and don't think for one minute I don't. He could very easily get another apartment; he could even live at the head quarters. But no! The two of you thought up this ridiculous scheme just so you could be buddy-buddy under the same roof. I will not have it! I won’t have your ridiculous habits with your best friend interrupt our family.” Harry would have been amused had she not been wringing him dry, her rant was very reminiscent of her own mother’s had been when she got up in a tussle.

“But Ginny, we can’t very well-“

“You’re right, we can’t and that’s why we won’t.”

“Oh, love, you’re-”

“No. He won’t be living with us, Harry. He’ll live with Hermione!” She looked at him hopefully, her eyes glinting with a secret Harry didn’t immediately catch onto. When he did, his eyes went wide with surprise.

“Ginny you can’t be serious. Malfoy and Hermione? No, you’re wrong. They’re merely friendly. In fact they act rather uncomfortable around one another.

“Harry, you may very well be a lost cause. It’s called sexual tension darling. They’re very much in lust. Can’t you see? There’s a fire between them, they send each other such smoldering looks it seems they might very well lose control and rip each other’s clothes off make it right on the floor!” Ginny looked excited, Harry on the other hand looked rather revolted at the prospect.

“Ginny that’s Hermione you’re talking about. I don’t thank you for the rather disgusting image I’ve now been graced with of two of my best friends.”

“It’s not as though she’s never had-” With lighting fast reactions Harry clamped his hand across his wife’s mouth. She looked beautiful when she was confused, she looked beautiful all the time. The angry, frustrated look she was sending him right at that moment made a shiver go straight to his loins. He debated dragging her into the floo at that moment, taking her home, and shagging her till she was screaming his name. He decided it was probably not the best of ideas.

“Don’t. Say. Another. Word. As far as Hermione goes, I’d rather remain blissfully unaware of her sexual endeavors. She’s like my sister, Gin. I don’t go running off telling Ron what we do behind closed doors- or on the kitchen table- or out on the lawn- or in the swimming pool- or-”

“Alright! I get it. But Draco is still not living with us.” He pouted at her, his green eyes looking rather hurt and gorgeous. “I mean it! He won’t! He can live with Hermione, I’m quite sure. But he won’t live with us. I like my- mmmm- privacy.” She ran her hand down the front of his shirt all the way to just above his manhood and fought back a moan as she bit down on her lower lip. It was a cheap shot, she knew, and she didn’t really care. In fact, it was a lie, she liked- no loved- having privacy with her husband.

“In that case,-” He said, his voice a little frazzled and thick with want. “Hey, Malfoy! Sorry, mate, you’re on your own.” The couple walked back toward their friends. Two years ago they never would have guessed they’d be best friends with Draco Malfoy, the infamous bad boy with the stone grey eyes and platinum blonde hair. Today he was one of three people entrusted with their secret lodgings. When Malfoy looked at him with a sneer Harry laughed and put his arm around his redhead wife. “She bullied me, I swear! Not my fault, she wears the pants. And she figured out the real reason why we were so determined.”

“Weakling, never could keep your mouth shut.” Malfoy replied good naturedly on a laugh. Ginny was smiling at him with a hint of a secret on her lips, and he wondered what they were keeping from him.

“Draco, Hermione, we have a suggestion.” The two looked at Ginny with surprise, wondering what the little witch had up her sleeve. “We- Harry and I- think Draco should live here with you Hermione!” When she saw Hermione’s astonishment and shock she hurried passed the open mouthed look on her face. “It’s not like you lack the space, and he really does need a safe place to live. Your house is the third most protected place we know of!” Hermione and Draco looked at one another out of the corner of their eyes, contemplating with that single glance. “We’ll just excuse ourselves while you discuss this. If she says no, Draco, you can sleep at out place for the night.”

“But don’t come back too soon. Stay about an hour if ya will, mate. The missus and I have something to attend to.” Harry called behind him, a playful smirk on his face when his hand reached out to pinch his wife’s bum. A squeal erupted from Ginny and her heels clacked on the tile as she ran across the threshold towards the fireplace. ‘Giggly Bot’ she called with a faint smile playing on her lips in amusement at the secret phrase that would take them home.