A Deal With The Devil

A Deal With The Devil

Chapter 2

"Keep your friends close but your enemies closer"

Hermione looked at Voldemort with a look of sheer terror on her face. "My god, he knows who I am," she thought.

"You thought a glamour would fool me, the most powerful wizard alive?" Hermione refrained from saying that Dumbledore was the most powerful wizard alive, because she remembered she had left her wand in the terrace. That was rule number 2 in the Auror guidebook; never leave your wand anywhere but on your person.

"Some Auror I am," Hermione muttered bitterly.

"Fools!" Voldemort continued to smile at her for a few second before turning his gaze to Narcissa. "Were you aware your son was working with Dumbledore, and his infernal Order Of The Phoenix?"

"No! You must believe me I had no idea!" Narcissa had gone paler than usual and was eyeing Draco with a mixture of pity and disgust. How quickly her loyalties to her family were misplaced.

Voldemort turned to Lucius, "And you, my most faithful follower?"

"What son?" Lucius glared at Draco scathingly, Hermione couldn't remember ever having seen so much hatred and distaste, and at the same time so much love.

Draco noticed there was pain evident in his father's voice as he said it, but the words hurt him more than a thousand Avada Kedavras ever could. He looked at Hermione's face and he wondered what would happen to her. He wondered if he would ever see it again. The next thing he knew he was being dragged down some steps. Hard stone steps, and they were very painful. But all he could think about was Hermione. Her face was the last thing he saw before his world went black.

As soon as Voldemort turned his back Hermione dashed up the steps, thinking that this was perhaps the only chance she would get to have a go at getting her wand. But she was useless without her wand and she only went a few steps before she felt herself being levitated off the ground. She struggled helplessly against the inevitable, and finally gave in as she felt her muscles tighten painfully. With a flick of the wrist Lucius Malfoy had captured one of the most promising Aurors Dumbledore had.

"Hermione I would've thought a bright girl like you would know better than to try and fool Voldemort!" Lucius smirked, "Apparently I was mistaken."

"How did you find out?" Hermione's words were venomous and she was too distraught to even think about hiding her loathing for him.

"About you?" Lucius laughed, "Lets just say acting isn't one of your best attributes. Honestly, did you think for a moment that Narcissa would divulge all of those secrets to you and then we would just let you leave? Certainly not! We suspected from the start that my son was working for the order. Ever since he was a little boy Draco hasn't had the backbone of a Malfoy. When he was five he said he loved his teddy bear, and we knew something was wrong. We hoped like wine he would improve with age, but alas its not so." Hermione just stared blankly at him. All too soon Voldemort approached them, Hermione was still levitated 5 feet off the ground and Lucius was still ranting about Draco's troubling youth.

"Enough Lucius! I shall take the prisoner to her chamber." At this moment Hermione regretted not joining Draco in the dungeon, she felt more alone now than she had ever felt before in her life. Hermione remained silent as she was led with her hands magically bound behind her back, throughout the winding hallways of the castle. It was huge, and she estimated that it must have over forty rooms. Finally Voldemort's husky voice broke the silence, "Here we are. This is your room for the next nine months, or however long I decide to keep you imprisoned. Oh and I should mention that just because I cant harm you for the baby's sake, don't think I wont harm Draco in your place. Oh and your wand will be broken if I hear of any acts of defiance or rebelliousness. Meals will be served to you in your room and if you need anything don't hesitate to press this button." Voldemort reached into his billowing robes and pulled out a small box the size of a container of Tylenol, with a red button on it. Seeing her confused look he elaborated, "It will alert one of the houselves." Then he left abruptly slamming the door behind him.

Hermione sat down on the bed and for the first time surveyed her surroundings. She was in a large room painted red with hardwood floors. It had a slate fireplace and all the other decoration was done in darkly stained cherry wood. She currently sat on a king-sized canopy bed with a drawstring attached to curtains all around. With a pull of the hand she could light up or darken the entire room. It also allowed her some privacy for she had come to realize that Voldemort had probably monitored her and Draco the previous night. Hermione was speechless and her mind was spinning, she had several key resources at her disposal. She had a fireplace which was stone, the ideal kind for flooing, and windows that overlooked a moat, although she didn't know what kind of creatures dwelled in there. She sighed loudly, without floo powder or a broom, she was pretty much out of luck. On top of it all she had been led to a very remote wing of the castle and she had no idea how to get to Draco, or even how to evacuate the building.

A few days passed relatively uneventfully for Draco. But then again, the dungeon wasn't exactly a social place. He had come to rely on the houselves for his daily amusement as no one had come to see him. He hoped fervently that they weren't busy with Hermione. Then he heard a sound he had come to dread, the unmistakable click of Voldemort's boots. He silently prayed to a god he didn't believe in to help him get through this.

"Draco how is it down here?"

"Dismal. Boring. Unbearable. Take your pick."

"How about all three?"

"Fair enough."

"Just thought I'd come down here and let you know that I'm going to have my way with your little mudblood virgin. I'm going to rape her and I'm going to be rough too. But at the end she'll be begging for more." Draco jumped up off his ratty cot and began to violently shake the bars. Voldemort stepped back so that he was just out of Draco's reach.

"You hurt her and I'll fucking kill you! You hear me? YOU HEAR ME?" Draco was screaming at the top of his lungs and Voldemort just laughed cynically as he walked down the hallway. Draco could hear his laughter long after he had disappeared from sight.

Draco paced in his cell. Was Voldemort serious? Would he hurt Hermione? When would he see Hermione again? Would he see Hermione again? He was almost positive that he would because Voldemort was infertile. Draco laughed to himself, it was a well-guarded secret that Voldemort shot blanks. Just then, he heard the sound of feet on the dirt. That could only mean one thing, it was the houself with his dinner. His stomach grumbled in response to his thoughts and he realized just how hungry he was. But to his disappointment it was, in fact, Voldemort, wearing new shoes. "How's my favorite little prisoner?"

"Never better," Draco muttered bitterly.

"Well she wasn't as good as I thought she would be. She didn't seem to mind actually, so it wasn't half the fun." Draco's fists clenched and he drew blood. "I thought you'd like that, Draco. You never cease to please me. I may let you live after impregnating the mudblood if you keep this up." Draco didn't want to give Voldemort the satisfaction of saying anything else, so he remained silent. "Well if that's how you're going to be then I'll leave. Perhaps no dinner tonight will make you rethink your plan to give me the silent treatment." Draco opened his mouth to protest, but then he realized what kind of man would he be if he couldn't live without a single meal? Voldemort was upset that he didn't manage to crack Draco, so he decided to get out the torture devices, no one could withstand those.

"What will it be today Draco?"

"The stretcher."

"Hmm, good choice," Voldemort was pleased; Draco sure knew how to pick his torture devices.

Draco calmly lay down on the stretch apparatus, and waited for Voldemort to strap him in. Voldemort wasn't used to this degree of obedience, usually he had to physically, or magically, force the victim onto the device. "Draco is rather willing, perhaps he is sadist, or even better a masochist," Voldemort thought happily. "Wouldn't Lucius be proud then?" Voldemort was most discontented however when Draco didn't even scream when he pulled the lever. "Is the boy made of iron?" Voldemort pulled it again and still Draco had no reaction. He pulled it a third time and he saw a muscle in Draco's face twitch. Voldemort smiled crookedly, and pulled the lever a fourth time, enjoying Draco's grimace that ensued. Although Voldemort knew he wouldn't be able to satisfy his thirst for pain this time, because Draco hadn't yet gotten Hermione pregnant. He had never wanted to kill someone so badly, excepting of course, Harry Potter. "But Draco would make an excellent spy if he wasn't so goddamn insolent!" Harry had no worth to Voldemort excluding the publicity he was sure to get when he vanquished his longtime archenemy. Voldemort's anger deepened when he though of Harry, little did he know that at the same time Draco was thinking the same thoughts but for very different reasons. "Damn that Potter!"

Harry Potter paced nervously in his chamber. The last correspondence the Order had with Hermione and Draco was the day they left, and it had been a month since that horrible day. He knew something had gone wrong, if it hadn't Hermione would've found some way to communicate. She had her Apparating license after all, if she wasn't being held prisoner she would've apparated here and checked into the Auror headquarters in Hogsmeade. Just then he heard the rustle of Hedwig's wings, and rushed to the window praying it was a letter from Hermione. To his disappointment it was another letter from Dean Thomas pleading with him to reconsider their breakup. That was the one and only secret he had kept from Hermione, his bisexuality. He never realized how much he loved her until she was gone. Once he had become conscious of his intense feelings for her he had broken things off with Dean. Although he had been dating both of them for just under a year and it was hard to choose. Ron had told him time after time just how wrong it was to cheat on Hermione so shamelessly, but Harry had dismissed it as Ron being jealous. Ron had loved Hermione since fourth year, and why he had never taken the plunge and asked her out was beyond Harry.

Ron had slumped into a sort of depression in Hermione's absence, and had taken to staring out the window watching the people walk by. He often wondered to himself where all the lonely people came from, and where they all belonged. He wondered things like how the world was created and if there was a god. He wondered if there was a god why he didn't feed the hungry, cure the sick, entertain the bored and save Hermione Granger. He sat by his window wondering if the people on the street had experienced what he had, lived a lie.

"I love you I love you I love you, that's all I want to say. I need to I need to I need to, I need to make you see what you mean to me. I want you I want you I want you, I think you know by now." Ron sang along to the Beatle's song, "Michelle My Bell", replacing Michelle with Hermione. He was pathetic, he knew. But what could he say? He was a fool in love.

A day had passed and Hermione was still pretending it hadn't happened. It was much easier for her that way. Voldemort had informed her that today was a big day in history and she assumed that meant he was ready to mate with Draco. At least she would see Draco and insure that he was alright. After what she had been through the previous day, sex with Draco was nothing. She was pretty sure the enjoyment in sex was ruined for her, but it wasn't as if it was up to her. Suddenly she was wrenched from her thoughts by a knock on the door. Draco entered, looking very tired and very... damaged.

"Hermione! Are you okay? How have you been? What has he done to you? Do you have an escape plan?" Realizing she sounded like his mother, Draco broke of his rapid line of questioning. Wordlessly Hermione began to sob, and Draco realized Voldemort hadn't been bluffing.

"Hermione, shhhh, its okay I'm here." She pulled him closer and she realized she had never wanted to be held by anyone so badly.

They lay like that for several hours before Hermione whispered, "I love you Draco."

"You know I love you more than anything, Hermione."

"I'm ready." That was all the encouragement Draco needed and he began to cover her body with kisses. As he started to undress her, Hermione shivered remembering Voldemort ripping them off her the day before. She tried to push those thoughts from her mind but it was harder than she had thought it would be. He began to lay a trail of kisses and as he passed her navel she shuddered. He felt the tremors passing through her body and he told her it was all going to work out. He finally reached her underwear and slowly pulled them off, looking into her eyes as he did it. When his friends in Slytherin reached the age of sixteen over the summer of fifth year most of them were no longer virgins. When they got back to school they all told stories of their summer flings, and Draco always felt a little left out. Although listening to their sex chats, he learned many valuable tricks of the trade. Therefore he knew just what to do to stimulate a girl and he was currently doing it to Hermione. He knew she liked the movements his tongue was making when she cried out, "No Draco, don't stop!" He happily obliged her and pleasured her again and again until she reached an orgasm. "See all sex isn't that bad," Hermione told herself. But when Draco was about to take the final step, she got cold feet.

"Draco-", but her voice caught in her throat as he was suddenly inside her.

She gasped loudly and he whispered to her, "Are you alright? Am I hurting you?"

"No," Hermione was surprised but he wasn't, in fact, hurting her. He smiled down at her and she smiled back. After they were done they lay entwined in each other's arms. Neither of them had ever been so at peace.

Ron stood looking at his reflection in the mirror; he had donned his long black robes and his Death Eater's mask. He turned his body in order to catch a glimpse of his body from all angles; Ron had always been insecure about himself. Year after year of being stereotyped as just another Weasley will do that to a person. Ron sighed and puffed up his chest, he knew he would never be as built as Harry but did he have to be so pathetically scrawny? He pulled up his mask for a second, and gazed into the reflection of his face. He saw the same old red hair and freckles, nothing special. "Maybe one day I'll change my appearance, dye my hair, get eye-contacts," Ron decided to himself. Just then, he felt a searing pain in his right forearm. "It's time to go then, its great that I'm prepared already," he said to himself. Then he apparated, but not before checking his reflection one more time.

Voldemort glanced at his watch, had he remembered to put down the Apparating wards around the castle? Yes, indeed he had. Had he remembered to put an anti-Apparating ward on Hermione's wing? Yes, he had. "Of course I remembered, I am Lord Voldemort," he said to no one in particular. Although he had noticed that Lucius always looked at him rather strangely when he did that. But no matter, he was Lord Voldemort the most powerful wizard in the world and very soon his only obstacles to greatness would be removed. Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter were to be eliminated. Voldemort laughed gleefully, he was soon to be rid of his two archenemies and he was to have an heir as quickly as one could be born. As soon as he felt that the majority of his followers had arrived he signaled for silence.

"To start off this evening, first let me tell you why I've summoned you all," Voldemort began. "I have finally chosen my heir. It is to be the product of Draco Malfoy," some of the Death Eaters scoffed at this but Voldemort didn't respond to them, "and Hermione Granger." Everyone present gasped, even Lucius and Narcissa. They had both assumed that Voldemort would take away the honor he had bestowed on them when they found out that "Tiffany" was in fact Hermione, a mudblood, but they were mistaken.

A brave Death Eater spoke up, "Hermione?" Voldemort squinted until he saw a tuft of red hair sticking out of the mask.

"Ah, Mister Weasley. Funny you should ask, yes Hermione has decided to become a Death Eater"

"She-she has?" Ron spluttered nervously thinking "Not Hermione please. Tell me it isn't true!"

"Yes she even seduced me she was so persistent," a handful of Death Eaters chortled at this point. "Hurry back now, and tell Dumbledore and Potter that they've lost her. The only way they can get her back is to deliver Harry to me. His life for hers." Ron paled and nodded, Apparating instantaneously. Voldemort laughed cynically, now Harry would play right into their hands. He summoned another Death Eater; one he knew wasn't a double agent like Ron, who worked alongside Harry.

"Miss Chang?"

"Yes master?" The pretty brunette had stepped forward, and he noticed how tight her robes were and licked his lips. Struggling to control himself, Voldemort launched into a hasty explanation of his plans.

"Alright, lets proceed. Miss Chang I have a task for you, a secret mission. Do you accept?"

All eyes turned to Cho but she didn't falter, "Yes master, of course."

"Excellent, then you are all dismissed. Excepting of course you, Miss Chang. Come with me." Lucius waited for the nod Voldemort gave when he wanted his comrade to join him. But it wasn't given, so he loitered about with Narcissa and the other pureblood families watching the Death Eaters leave.

"Did he inform you of his plans Lucius?" Several of the ancient pureblood families formed a circle around him.

"No he did not," Lucius replied nonchalantly.

"Don't you think its odd? He rants about exterminating mudbloods and then he chooses one to mother his child," another Death Eater spoke up.

"Yeah I know! Well he's not fathering the kid. He can't, he shoots blanks you know?"

"Really? I didn't know that!"

"Who's the father again?"

"Draco," again all eyes turned to Lucius.

"Do you agree with the mudblood Lucius?"

"It is not my place to agree or disagree. He is our master and you shouldn't be questioning him." Lucius spat the words out violently, then turned on his heel and left.

Narcissa hurried over to him noticing that something was amiss.

"Lucius is everything alright?"

"No!"

"What's wrong?"

"Everything."

"Damn it Lucius, I'm your wife! Tell me the truth, you owe me that much."

"You're right. Forgive me Narcissa, it's been a rough few weeks."

"I know it has darling," Narcissa forgave him right away; she understood the hell he had been going through. She'd been living the same hell. Her son was locked up in a dungeon being tortured and there was nothing she could do about it. She knew she couldn't overstep her boundary as a dutiful, unquestioning wife to Lucius by helping Draco. But still there were times when she felt like taking her son and escaping. But escaping Voldemort meant also escaping Lucius, who she loved dearly. When he was born Draco had brought new meaning to her life. She was no longer Narcissa Leblanc-Malfoy; she was Narcissa Leblanc-Malfoy, and a loving mother. But although Draco brought her a great deal of happiness, he brought her a lot of pain. She had to defend him from Lucius' wrath from the day he was born, and sometimes Lucius took the anger that Draco had been spared from and used it on her. Narcissa had a rough time of it in her early thirties; Lucius had abused her constantly and threatened to beat Draco whenever she got out of line. Draco was her gift and her curse, her weakness and her strength. Narcissa learned to mind Lucius or else Draco suffered. Thus Narcissa was transformed from the defiant vigorous woman, into the meek obedient housewife.

Voldemort led Cho into his private chambers. She went willingly, never expecting what she was about to face.

By: Samantha Devereux-Smith

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