The Darkness and the Light
Disclaimer: Characters belong to the great J.K Rowling. The plot is mine and mine alone. There is no profit being made here, we’re just a bunch of fans having fun. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, you know.
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Spoilers: Parts 1-4 of my stories by the same title.
“Ron,” Hermione sighed, “how many times do I have to tell you that there is nothing to explain?” She noticed that his grip had tightened on her sleeve as though he was determined not to let her walk away this time.
“And how many times do I have to tell you that I don’t believe you?” he put a finger under her chin and drew it upward; again forcing her to look at him. “What’s going on, Hermione? You can tell me, I’m your friend.”
Those last three words went straight to Hermione’s heart and pierced it worse than anything ever could. She closed her eyes, feeling the pain in a way that Ron could never imagine.
“You’re my friend,” she repeated softly.
It was very real: him standing there with his hand on her, talking to her and saying everything he could to get her to open up. Yet, when he had said that he was her friend, it was like it echoed in her mind and it was all that she was hearing. She found herself just sort of zoning out and not paying attention to him.
“I-I have to go,” she heard herself say as she took his hand away from her chin. She tried to walk away but soon realized that there was something holding her back. Ron’s hand. He still had ahold of her sleeve. “Let go.”
Ron took this to have a double meaning. “Never.”
“You don’t understand,” Hermione said numbly. “He’ll kill me, he’ll kill Harry…he’ll kill you…”
“Kill? Who will?” He smirked and a bemused expression crossed his face. “Malfoy?”
“Hermione,” Ron chuckled, “I’m not afraid of him.”
“You should be,” she told him, snapping to her senses. “You don’t know what he’s capable of.”
Ron suddenly looked very grim as his attention went back to her bruises. “I do know, Hermione,” he said softly. “You’re walking proof. If he thinks he’s big and bad because he can do this to you, then…”
“What does it matter, Ron?” Hermione interrupted him.
He finally released her sleeve but only to take her hand and hold it against his chest over his heart. He looked at her meaningfully and their eyes locked; they were the only ones in the common room-the only ones in the world at this exact moment.
“It matters more than you realize, Hermione.” Ron said, his heart beating loudly in his ears a million miles a second. His mind was screaming at him this is it, your perfect moment. Tell her. Tell her how you feel, you may never have a chance like this again, seize it….
He moved in a little closer and the heat from the fire that was warming them seemed to get a bit warmer, or maybe it was the fact that they both knew that they were feeling the same thing. “You deserve so much better than that. I’m a nice guy, Hermione…”
Whoever said that the truth hurt knew what they were talking about; Hermione found herself fighting back tears.
“Do you?” he whispered as he brought her hand to his cheek, she caressed it.
“I do,” she didn’t think it humanly possible to feel any warmer, but she did.
“I won’t hurt you,” he said, his voice still soft. “I would never hurt you.” He kissed her palm, sending waves of excitement through Hermione.
“I know…” she murmured, touching him felt too good, him touching and kissing her felt too good; too right. She had forgotten all about her empty stomach, all about Draco and his threat; Ron was planting gentle kisses on her arm and she didn’t resist the urge to run her free hand through his fluffy red hair.
“Do you?” he repeated in between kisses and when she caught his eye again, she nodded.
Ron had gotten a few inches below Hermione’s shoulder and stopped. Their faces were inches apart.
“I love you, Hermione. I can show you that you’re better than you think if you give me the chance.” Ron couldn’t believe he was hearing himself say this. Telling her those three little words was not as hard as he had anticipated.
Hermione’s heart swelled so much that she felt sure it was going to explode. This was what she wanted. What she had dreamed of. Her dream come true.
“I love you, too,” she said as she descended her lips onto his.
It was a good thing that Draco Malfoy came from money because when Crabbe and Goyle came back to the Slytherin common room to tell him what they had witnessed while watching through the windows of Gryffindor tower, Draco went into a thundering rage smashing everything he could get his hands on. There was no doubt that his father would have to replace it all.
“I WARNED THAT FILTHY LITTLE MUDBLOOD! DID SHE THINK I WAS JOKING?” he roared as he picked up a nearby goblet of pumpkin juice and threw it against the stone wall causing juice and little shards of glass to splatter everywhere.
Goyle looked at Crabbe uneasily, they had seen Draco mad before, but not like this; and also, when Draco wasn’t around, they had found themselves in deep conversations about exactly what it was that Draco wanted with that Granger girl. They didn’t think it fair that while they did Malfoy’s bidding for him, they were also kept in the dark.
Until today, that is. They decided that they had the courage to ask him. Well, courage before they had been sent to spy on her. Goyle kept his eyes on Malfoy as he nudged Crabbe in the ribs, prompting him to ask about that Granger girl.
“Uh huh,” Crabbe grunted and returned Goyle’s jab. “You do it.”
“Me?” Goyle whispered loudly. He hadn’t meant for Malfoy to hear him, but he did; and he stopped his rampage upon the Slytherin common room long enough to turn and stare at his cronies with his cold silvery eyes.
“What’s this?” Draco demanded, raising an eyebrow.
Goyle cleared his throat and nudged Crabbe again, who finally gave him an exasperated look as if to say that it wasn’t as big a deal as they thought to ask their question.
“Well? Out with it!” Draco said impatiently.
“The-the Granger girl...,” Crabbe was still timid, “well, see, what it is…,” he shot a nervous look at Goyle who urged him on, “um, well, we were…sort of wondering what you’re doing with her…” when he finished, he winced and held his forearm up like a shield to protect his head as though he was expecting a fierce blow to come from Draco and when it didn’t happen, he let his guard down.
“What do you mean?” Draco asked simply as he sat down on the couch. This action made Crabbe and Goyle feel more at ease about continuing the subject.
“Is she your girlfriend or…what?” asked Goyle.
Draco gave a bemused expression and chuckled to himself. “That filthy little mudblood? Never!”
“Then what?” Crabbe asked, sitting next to Draco.
“I can’t stand being with her, she makes me physically ill. But, she’s a mudblood and she has to be taught and this is going to continue until she gets things straight in her head.”
Crabbe managed to secretly cast a worried glance at Goyle. He already didn’t like where this conversation was going. “’Gets things straight’?”
“Oh, don’t tell me you haven’t noticed, Crabbe!” Draco sneered. “The way she always knows the answers to all the questions in class, the way she quotes every book she’s ever read...” “But, why her? She isn’t the only Muggle-born in Hogwarts…” Crabbe tried not to sound like he was even close to defending Hermione but was failing miserably.
“Are you developing a soft spot, Crabbe?” Draco asked suspiciously. Crabbe didn’t answer and Draco went on. “And what about the way she walks around here like she’s all high and mighty because she’s friends with Dumbledore’s Golden Boy? He’s not so special and neither is that Weasel that she’s obviously so stuck on,” he paused and turned his attention to the fire, “she needs to come down from her pedestal. Not only that, but it’s teaching Potter and Weaslby that they should know better than to play with a Malfoy. I’ll make them all wish they had never met me.”
“What are you going to do?” Goyle asked.
Goyle looked at Crabbe not really sure what to think of the darkness that was Draco Malfoy.
The late hour of midnight was finally upon Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Hermione Granger found herself lying in bed feeling lighter than she had in a month. Ron loved her, he said he did. They kissed and it was perfection. They were well on their way to being an item, like she had always wanted. All she had to do was get rid of Draco…
Draco…the thought of that name made Hermione’s insides quiver with fear. She didn’t like this feeling and chose to push it aside with thoughts of Ron and their kiss in the common room. She drifted off into a blissful sleep but was awakend by what she thought was rather suddenly to a heavy weight holding her down by her wrists.
Hermione opened her eyes and they focused on a slightly muscular figure on top of her, blonde hair and silvery eyes glinting in the moonlight. Malfoy had made it into her dorm again and he was on top of her. This had to be a bad dream, but realized just the opposite when she opened her mouth to scream and suddenly found herself mute. He had placed a Silencing Charm on her.
“I warned you,” he growled as he leaned in to put his face next to hers. She fought to control tears that she felt coming on but was powerless. “I know all about your cozy kissing session with Weaslby and you’re going to be so sorry…”
Ginny Weasly did something that she didn’t normally do; she woke up at around 2:30 in the morning for a drink of water. As she drank, she looked around the room and was surprised to see Hermione’s bed unmade and empty. She felt an uneasiness creep into the pit of her stomach-something was wrong, Hermione was never missing from her bed this late.
Putting hope against hope, she got out of bed and went looking for her friend, hoping to just find her in the bathroom but on her way to the door, something on Hermione’s bed caught her eye. A piece of parchment.
She crossed to the bed, picked it up and gasped at the words that were scrawled in what appeared to be blood:
Let’s see you touch her now…
Ginny felt as though the wind had been knocked from her lungs and her legs felt like they had given out from under her. Hermione had been kidnapped.
Ginny instantly knew that she had to get herself together, she had to get out of that room, and she had to go tell Ron.
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