Impossible Desire
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Draco/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
2
Views:
2,257
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Draco/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
2
Views:
2,257
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
The Ring.
IMPOSSIBLE DESIRE
“Make a wish,” her mum said quietly with a smile on her face. Hermione smiled back and closed her eyes.
A mere second passed before she was inwardly wishing. There was only one thing she could even dream of wishing for. Everything else seemed so trivial in comparison. I wish for the fall of Lord Voldemort before more innocent lives are lost. And she blew out the seventeen candles that had just been flickering luminously on the birthday cake in front of her.
Her parents beamed at her and clapped their hands affectionately. It reminded her of when parents would applaud their toddlers for finishing their peas or using the potty correctly. It nearly made her laugh. Nearly. She found she didn’t have much to laugh at nowadays.
She forced a smiled back even though her thoughts were still on her wish. She hadn't yet gotten over the death of her good friend Luna Lovegood. If ever there was an innocent life lost… The morning Hermione had read about Luna's death remained in her mind like a recurring bad dream, one that haunted you weeks after.
***
She had been sitting at the breakfast table drinking her orange juice, reveling at how different it tasted compared to the pumpkin kind she was used to. She had just thought about perhaps going to the local library when the daily owl came delivering the Prophet to her. As though she was expecting it (and of course she was) she had a few knuts ready to slip into the little pouch and a small cup of water for its refreshment. She quickly unfurled the paper and had deeply immersed herself into the second page before the owl swept past and out the window. It wasn't until she got to the bottom of the second page that she gasped so suddenly it felt her throat had closed up in shock. The air of silence threatened to suffocate her while her heavy heart seemed to have fallen to her stomach, collapsing on her lungs. She ceased the ability to breathe and her heart thunderously pounded in her ears.
Quibbler's Lovegood Murdered
Late last Tuesday night, the Lovegood family of
Xenophilius (Editor of The Quibbler) and daughter
Luna were found brutally murdered within their own
Home. It is rumored that Xenophilius Lovegood might
Have been under the Imperious Curse but tried
bravely, to fight it off. Ministry officials claim
You-Know-Who...
But Hermione couldn't bear to read on. A small picture accompanied the article. It was a dark image of an eccentric-looking house with a blazing skull and serpent shimmering in the night sky above it.
She sat there clutching her stomach trying to fight off the tears as well as the breakfast that now threatened to make a reappearance. She didn't know which one was going to come out first. She looked around with terrified eyes and saw the open window the owl had just flown out. Slamming the glass down, she locked it and every other in sight. She threw herself to the front door and double checked that it was locked. She knew that wouldn’t thwart anyone that would want to get in but she was just so lost. For words; for reactions. She just wanted to hear some words of comfort. She stayed there for a couple seconds, letting the door support her until she didn’t think her feet would hold her up any longer. Remembering that her parents were at work and wouldn’t be home all day, Hermione drug herself up the stairs and collapsed on her bed as the grief caught up with her. She burst into a flood of tears, her body wracked with sobs, desperately asking why?
***
Her eyes welled up with tears recalling that awful day. It had been nearly a month and nobody she knew had turned up in the papers since. Still, every day she trembled and practically held her breath until she was finished skimming through the Prophet. Once she was assured no one had been caught overnight, she allowed herself to breathe and thoroughly read through the paper. She swallowed with difficulty and tried to push those feelings of death and destruction aside, bravely blinking the tears away. This was supposed to be a happy occasion. If nothing else, she would stay strong for her mum and dad. They deserved as much.
Turning back to her parents, she smiled as they handed her a few presents. She opened them all happily, thanking them over and over. They were so good to her.
After she had opened all the presents, Hermione sat back and started to read one of the books they had gotten her (this one was a thorough history of the four founders of Hogwarts). But before she could really immerse herself in it, her parents told her she had one more present. Hermione gave them a half mocking look (another gift?) but smiled, wondering what this mystery present was.
Her father's face was briefly visited by a look of hesitation, but in the next second, he smiled handing her a wooden box the size of a deck of cards. She briefly ran her fingers over the intricate carvings on the outside. It was beautiful, but she had a feeling there was more to it than that. She noticed a hinge and opened the box, her fingers fumbling over the layers of silk that lay within it. Finally managing to untangle the folds, Hermione pulled out a long, silver chain that held, ever so delicately, an elegant silver ring. Hermione gasped. A large emerald consumed the center of the ancient ring.
“Oh my goodness! You didn't-” Hermione started but was cut off from her mother.
“Don't worry, we didn't buy it,” her mother said, reading her mind. Hermione was confused. It looked very expensive, but also very old. Confused, indeed.
“Well, then...”
“There's something we need to tell you,” her father said. “And we felt it best to wait 'til after you became of age.”
“What is it?” Hermione asked, anxiety and dread filling her up. They had never really kept things from her. It worried her.
“Well...um...Hermione, dear,” he began carefully and grabbed her hand, not knowing how she was going to react. “Well, I suppose I better just say it. Sweetie, you aren’t the first in our family to have magical powers.”
Hermione found herself gaping at her father, eyes wide in surprise.
“What?” she said, words finally finding her lips.
“I'm so sorry to keep this from you for so long, Hermione. We have wanted to tell you but felt it best to wait,” he said again, with a slight wince, as if defending himself. “Nevertheless, it is the truth.”
“But who…?”
“It’s been a few generations. Somewhere along my family line, a squib was born… and he was their only child. I believe it was my great grandfather. His parents thought the magical family had died out completely with them. And indeed, we ceased to be magical. We married muggles and for a while, it seemed to work out for the better.”
“Okay,” Hermione said slowly, but her mind was reeling at a dizzying pace.
“Anyway,” her father went on a little faster, “your grandmother wanted you to have this when you came of age. Her grandmother, the last witch or wizard in our family line before you, wished for it to get passed down through the magical generations. It's something of a tradition if I remember correctly. Oh yes, this had once belonged to a Raven- something or other...”
Hermione finally stepped out of her trance. “Rowena Ravenclaw?”
“Yes, I think so. Do you know her?” her father replied. Hermione took no notice. This was all too much for her right now.
That would explain why I'm in the top of our year, Hermione thought. Rowena Ravenclaw prided herself on her intelligence and studious nature. But then, why am I in Gryffindor? Shouldn't I be in Ravenclaw if I have that blood in me? Not like I'm complaining, but that makes no sense...
Even though she told her parents it was fine and that she was alright, Hermione couldn't take her mind off of the ring and her true lineage all night. She eventually fell asleep in her bed, the ring hanging loosely around her neck.
_____________________________________________________________________________
His footsteps echoed throughout the corridor. They were determined and purposeful yet a bit hesitant. He tried to steady his hands and leave all nerves in the hall as he neared the door. Taking a deep breath, his hand encased the silver doorknob and he twisted it open.
Inside the large library sat a man with long, platinum blonde hair tied back in a low ponytail. He wore a heavy, black cloak and on his face was a look of mingled curiosity and anxiousness. The look remained on his face, perhaps a little less anxiety, as his son walked into the room.
“Draco,” Lucius Malfoy spoke quietly, not even looking away from the fire. He said it more as of an acknowledgment than a question.
“Father,” Draco said as he promptly relieved himself into the other chair that surrounded the fireplace.
“Tell me,” Lucius asked after a long silence had passed. “Why is it that you wished to meet with me and the Dark Lord? It’s been a rather large hassle getting him here, but you were so damn insistent.”
Draco was expecting this question and wasn't sure whether he could tell his father the truth. He didn’t want to be accused of being weak.
“Well…” Draco started quietly, but then decided to be firm and honest. “Father, all my life, I have felt like a disappointment. I’m never good enough for you. I want a chance to prove myself worthy. To make you proud.” He took a deep breath. “That is why I have called upon you and the Dark Lord. To show you both that I will do anything asked of me, that I am fully committed to this cause and Him.” Draco was glaring at his father, silently pleading him.
Lucius Malfoy looked at his son with nothing but contempt and a raised eyebrow… But then… was that a smile? The trademark Malfoy smirk flitted across his face as he turned back to the fire.
A few moments later, a cloaked figure arose from a shadowed corner of the room as if he’d been there the whole time. Draco was a bit surprised at first but regained his composure quickly. He got to his knees with his father as the hooded figure came closer. Following suit, Draco kissed the hem of the figure’s robes, muttering “My Lord”.
The man sat in the chair Draco had abandoned, leaving Draco on his knees in front of him. The elder Malfoy had already returned to his seat.
“So, you wish to help, do you?” the Dark Lord said. Draco nodded firmly. He would do anything…
“I detect no lies,” the Dark Lord said, eyeing Draco suspiciously. He knew the Dark Lord was looking into his mind to see if he had any intentions of betraying Him. A whole minute passed before he spoke again.
“Very well, you may help. I actually have a little job for you. If you succeed, perhaps you shall enter my most honored circle. Perhaps.” Draco did not even blink. That was what he’d always wanted. Just like his father, one day soon, he would be a Death Eater. He tried very hard to keep the smirk off his face.
“There is something I need and you would be in a very convenient spot to get it for me. You must use any and every means necessary without getting caught. This is vital to our plan to overthrow The Order.” Draco nodded eagerly as he leaned in closer, hanging onto every word.
“There is a ring…”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thank you all for reading! Please review :) Second Chapter up soon!
Peace Love and Pumpkin Juice
“Make a wish,” her mum said quietly with a smile on her face. Hermione smiled back and closed her eyes.
A mere second passed before she was inwardly wishing. There was only one thing she could even dream of wishing for. Everything else seemed so trivial in comparison. I wish for the fall of Lord Voldemort before more innocent lives are lost. And she blew out the seventeen candles that had just been flickering luminously on the birthday cake in front of her.
Her parents beamed at her and clapped their hands affectionately. It reminded her of when parents would applaud their toddlers for finishing their peas or using the potty correctly. It nearly made her laugh. Nearly. She found she didn’t have much to laugh at nowadays.
She forced a smiled back even though her thoughts were still on her wish. She hadn't yet gotten over the death of her good friend Luna Lovegood. If ever there was an innocent life lost… The morning Hermione had read about Luna's death remained in her mind like a recurring bad dream, one that haunted you weeks after.
***
She had been sitting at the breakfast table drinking her orange juice, reveling at how different it tasted compared to the pumpkin kind she was used to. She had just thought about perhaps going to the local library when the daily owl came delivering the Prophet to her. As though she was expecting it (and of course she was) she had a few knuts ready to slip into the little pouch and a small cup of water for its refreshment. She quickly unfurled the paper and had deeply immersed herself into the second page before the owl swept past and out the window. It wasn't until she got to the bottom of the second page that she gasped so suddenly it felt her throat had closed up in shock. The air of silence threatened to suffocate her while her heavy heart seemed to have fallen to her stomach, collapsing on her lungs. She ceased the ability to breathe and her heart thunderously pounded in her ears.
Late last Tuesday night, the Lovegood family of
Xenophilius (Editor of The Quibbler) and daughter
Luna were found brutally murdered within their own
Home. It is rumored that Xenophilius Lovegood might
Have been under the Imperious Curse but tried
bravely, to fight it off. Ministry officials claim
You-Know-Who...
But Hermione couldn't bear to read on. A small picture accompanied the article. It was a dark image of an eccentric-looking house with a blazing skull and serpent shimmering in the night sky above it.
She sat there clutching her stomach trying to fight off the tears as well as the breakfast that now threatened to make a reappearance. She didn't know which one was going to come out first. She looked around with terrified eyes and saw the open window the owl had just flown out. Slamming the glass down, she locked it and every other in sight. She threw herself to the front door and double checked that it was locked. She knew that wouldn’t thwart anyone that would want to get in but she was just so lost. For words; for reactions. She just wanted to hear some words of comfort. She stayed there for a couple seconds, letting the door support her until she didn’t think her feet would hold her up any longer. Remembering that her parents were at work and wouldn’t be home all day, Hermione drug herself up the stairs and collapsed on her bed as the grief caught up with her. She burst into a flood of tears, her body wracked with sobs, desperately asking why?
***
Her eyes welled up with tears recalling that awful day. It had been nearly a month and nobody she knew had turned up in the papers since. Still, every day she trembled and practically held her breath until she was finished skimming through the Prophet. Once she was assured no one had been caught overnight, she allowed herself to breathe and thoroughly read through the paper. She swallowed with difficulty and tried to push those feelings of death and destruction aside, bravely blinking the tears away. This was supposed to be a happy occasion. If nothing else, she would stay strong for her mum and dad. They deserved as much.
Turning back to her parents, she smiled as they handed her a few presents. She opened them all happily, thanking them over and over. They were so good to her.
After she had opened all the presents, Hermione sat back and started to read one of the books they had gotten her (this one was a thorough history of the four founders of Hogwarts). But before she could really immerse herself in it, her parents told her she had one more present. Hermione gave them a half mocking look (another gift?) but smiled, wondering what this mystery present was.
Her father's face was briefly visited by a look of hesitation, but in the next second, he smiled handing her a wooden box the size of a deck of cards. She briefly ran her fingers over the intricate carvings on the outside. It was beautiful, but she had a feeling there was more to it than that. She noticed a hinge and opened the box, her fingers fumbling over the layers of silk that lay within it. Finally managing to untangle the folds, Hermione pulled out a long, silver chain that held, ever so delicately, an elegant silver ring. Hermione gasped. A large emerald consumed the center of the ancient ring.
“Oh my goodness! You didn't-” Hermione started but was cut off from her mother.
“Don't worry, we didn't buy it,” her mother said, reading her mind. Hermione was confused. It looked very expensive, but also very old. Confused, indeed.
“Well, then...”
“There's something we need to tell you,” her father said. “And we felt it best to wait 'til after you became of age.”
“What is it?” Hermione asked, anxiety and dread filling her up. They had never really kept things from her. It worried her.
“Well...um...Hermione, dear,” he began carefully and grabbed her hand, not knowing how she was going to react. “Well, I suppose I better just say it. Sweetie, you aren’t the first in our family to have magical powers.”
Hermione found herself gaping at her father, eyes wide in surprise.
“What?” she said, words finally finding her lips.
“I'm so sorry to keep this from you for so long, Hermione. We have wanted to tell you but felt it best to wait,” he said again, with a slight wince, as if defending himself. “Nevertheless, it is the truth.”
“But who…?”
“It’s been a few generations. Somewhere along my family line, a squib was born… and he was their only child. I believe it was my great grandfather. His parents thought the magical family had died out completely with them. And indeed, we ceased to be magical. We married muggles and for a while, it seemed to work out for the better.”
“Okay,” Hermione said slowly, but her mind was reeling at a dizzying pace.
“Anyway,” her father went on a little faster, “your grandmother wanted you to have this when you came of age. Her grandmother, the last witch or wizard in our family line before you, wished for it to get passed down through the magical generations. It's something of a tradition if I remember correctly. Oh yes, this had once belonged to a Raven- something or other...”
Hermione finally stepped out of her trance. “Rowena Ravenclaw?”
“Yes, I think so. Do you know her?” her father replied. Hermione took no notice. This was all too much for her right now.
That would explain why I'm in the top of our year, Hermione thought. Rowena Ravenclaw prided herself on her intelligence and studious nature. But then, why am I in Gryffindor? Shouldn't I be in Ravenclaw if I have that blood in me? Not like I'm complaining, but that makes no sense...
Even though she told her parents it was fine and that she was alright, Hermione couldn't take her mind off of the ring and her true lineage all night. She eventually fell asleep in her bed, the ring hanging loosely around her neck.
_____________________________________________________________________________
His footsteps echoed throughout the corridor. They were determined and purposeful yet a bit hesitant. He tried to steady his hands and leave all nerves in the hall as he neared the door. Taking a deep breath, his hand encased the silver doorknob and he twisted it open.
Inside the large library sat a man with long, platinum blonde hair tied back in a low ponytail. He wore a heavy, black cloak and on his face was a look of mingled curiosity and anxiousness. The look remained on his face, perhaps a little less anxiety, as his son walked into the room.
“Draco,” Lucius Malfoy spoke quietly, not even looking away from the fire. He said it more as of an acknowledgment than a question.
“Father,” Draco said as he promptly relieved himself into the other chair that surrounded the fireplace.
“Tell me,” Lucius asked after a long silence had passed. “Why is it that you wished to meet with me and the Dark Lord? It’s been a rather large hassle getting him here, but you were so damn insistent.”
Draco was expecting this question and wasn't sure whether he could tell his father the truth. He didn’t want to be accused of being weak.
“Well…” Draco started quietly, but then decided to be firm and honest. “Father, all my life, I have felt like a disappointment. I’m never good enough for you. I want a chance to prove myself worthy. To make you proud.” He took a deep breath. “That is why I have called upon you and the Dark Lord. To show you both that I will do anything asked of me, that I am fully committed to this cause and Him.” Draco was glaring at his father, silently pleading him.
Lucius Malfoy looked at his son with nothing but contempt and a raised eyebrow… But then… was that a smile? The trademark Malfoy smirk flitted across his face as he turned back to the fire.
A few moments later, a cloaked figure arose from a shadowed corner of the room as if he’d been there the whole time. Draco was a bit surprised at first but regained his composure quickly. He got to his knees with his father as the hooded figure came closer. Following suit, Draco kissed the hem of the figure’s robes, muttering “My Lord”.
The man sat in the chair Draco had abandoned, leaving Draco on his knees in front of him. The elder Malfoy had already returned to his seat.
“So, you wish to help, do you?” the Dark Lord said. Draco nodded firmly. He would do anything…
“I detect no lies,” the Dark Lord said, eyeing Draco suspiciously. He knew the Dark Lord was looking into his mind to see if he had any intentions of betraying Him. A whole minute passed before he spoke again.
“Very well, you may help. I actually have a little job for you. If you succeed, perhaps you shall enter my most honored circle. Perhaps.” Draco did not even blink. That was what he’d always wanted. Just like his father, one day soon, he would be a Death Eater. He tried very hard to keep the smirk off his face.
“There is something I need and you would be in a very convenient spot to get it for me. You must use any and every means necessary without getting caught. This is vital to our plan to overthrow The Order.” Draco nodded eagerly as he leaned in closer, hanging onto every word.
“There is a ring…”
Thank you all for reading! Please review :) Second Chapter up soon!
Peace Love and Pumpkin Juice