As It Became
Even with the help of a potion, Hermione was still a little seedy the next morning. After lazing in bed for a good hour after she woke up, she took a shower before moseying on down to the Great Hall for a late breakfast.
Apparently, most of the older students had the same idea, a few appearing a little worse for wear due to one of the many common room parties from the previous evening, no doubt. She made her way past the Slytherin table, Theo catching her eye with a coy smile. Her grin faltered however when she noticed Malfoy beside him, observing the two of them with the scowl of a petulant child. She shook her head before making her way over to her friends.
"Good morning", she said cheerily as she plopped down beside Ron, helping herself to a generous serving of bacon and scrambled eggs.
"Almost afternoon Hermione", Harry said with an all-knowing smile across from her.
She shrugged. "Thought I'd enjoy a sleep-in."
"Apparently that's not the only thing you enjoyed, emphasis on the 'Nott'."
Ron looked between the two of them. "Huh?"
She ignored Ron, giving Harry a none-too-subtle kick under the table.
"Whatever Ginny shared with you, I can assure you she's mistaken."
"She said you and Nott left the party together and never returned."
She took a swig of orange juice before responding, avoiding the stare Ron was burning into the side of her face. "I joined him for some fresh air and then we went our separate ways."
"Right, and the hickey on your neck appeared before or after the event?", Harry questioned, pointing a fork to her bare throat.
Her hand shot to her neck.
Shit.
She forgot to glamour it, the sun inspiring her to wear an off-the-shoulder blouse with her muggle jeans.
Ron stared at her neck with a mixture of shock and disgust. "Mione...how could you?"
She rearranged her expression to one of indifference, shovelling another mouthful of eggs into her mouth before answering.
"I got a rash from my turtleneck."
Harry wiggled his eyebrows. "Right."
"I can't believe you even went down to the dungeons, let alone let one of them touch you! They probably poisoned your drink or-"
"Oh just sod off Ron", she interrupted with a sigh.
He blanched, almost knocking over his cup of pumpkin juice.
"What-"
"You heard me. Yes, I went to the Slytherin party and yes I had fun and yes I snogged Theodore Nott and yes it was because I wanted to and yes, I enjoyed it."
She vaguely heard her voice getting louder and people looking in their direction, but she didn't care.
Ron's face turned beet red. "Hermione, what has gotten into you?"
"Am I not allowed to have fun? Will the world implode if I'm not the golden girl for five fucking minutes? A title that I never fucking asked for in the first place?"
"How dare-"
"No Ron. How dare you?!"
With the clatter of fallen cutlery, she abruptly got up from her seat and stormed her way out of the Great Hall. She ignored the stares and whispers as she went by the other tables, not even daring to sneak a look at the Slytherins.
She didn't have a particular destination in mind, but somehow found herself by the shore of the Black Lake. She sat down just short of the pebbled bank, pulling her knees up to her chest at the bottom of the grassy hill. She watched the water beckon whilst feeling the sun penetrate her skin, a cool breeze soothing her flushed cheeks.
Hermione hadn't meant to lose it, but if she were honest with herself, it had been a long time coming. Thoughts and feelings she'd been swallowing since before the war now exacerbated by Ron's childish grudge and her forced mental connection with Malfoy.
She heard the shuffling of heavy footsteps walking from the direction she'd come from, until a figure dropped down beside her, his long legs crossing together underneath his tall frame.
She smelt the clove and vanilla before she caught sight of his chocolate brown hair in the corner of her eye.
She let out a long-drawn-out breath, keeping her eyes on the water as she spoke.
"Any chance you didn't hear any of that?"
"Pretty sure most of the hall did", she could hear the cheek in his voice.
She sighed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you like that, I just got so angry..."
Theo waved a dismissive hand. "No apologies necessary Granger, I'm far from embarrassed."
She eyed him with suspicion, his handsome features harbouring his usual measured self-assurance.
"I stopped caring about what people think a long time ago. I mean, they already see us as the big bad Slytherins, why not add the corruption of the Gryffindor princess to the list of sins?", he gestured to the purple mouth-shaped bruise on her neck.
"Sorry for that by the way", he added, eyes darkly unapologetic.
"Don't be, I'm not", she mumbled matter-of-factly, returning her gaze back to the water's edge.
He gently nudged her with his elbow. She rolled her eyes but weakly smiled.
"You'll be right Granger."
"I know. Just let me feel sorry for myself for another 5 minutes."
"I can do that", he nodded before taking out his cigarette case from his pocket. She smelt the kretek as the end burned with light, before he pulled it from his lips and offered it to her. She declined with the shake of her head.
They sat like that for a while, a comfortable silence she was all too happy to bask in until Theo broke it.
"So, have any regrets yet?", he asked as he flicked the excess ash towards the pebbles.
"Aside from losing my shit in front of everyone at breakfast, no, not really", she answered honestly.
He nodded, seeming too get lost in his thoughts for a moment.
She raised an eyebrow. "Why, do you?"
"Nope", he said without hesitation, popping the 'P' around the cylinder.
She felt a small wave of relief at his admission. "Well hopefully the Slytherins don't give you a hard time."
"Whilst they probably find the situation amusing, I don't think they could care less."
"Not even Malfoy?"
She didn't know why she asked or even cared.
Theo thought for a moment. "He seemed to know before everyone else did somehow. But yes, he's being even more of a brat than usual, but he'll get over it."
She hummed a reply, pretending to suddenly be transfixed by the grass that was now between her fingers. The silence that settled over them this time held more tension before once again, Theo broke it.
"I don't know what this is, or even how to approach this...ah...", he rubbed his thumb over his brow whilst balancing the cigarette away from his skin, not meeting her eye.
To her surprise, Theo stumbled over his words as nerves seemed to get the better of him, his usual quiet confidence taking a back-seat.
"Whether the party was a one time thing, or if it wasn't...I mean I don't know...-"
He let out a strained laugh before he finally shook his head and turned to met her questioning gaze.
"What I'm trying to say, and am doing a terrible job of by the way, is that I quite like you Granger. I enjoy your company and think there's more to you than meets the eye. And snogging or no snogging, at the very least, I think I'd like to be your friend."
Hermione tried her hardest not to grin like a Cheshire cat, but Theo's words had made it almost impossible. She was touched and more than a little surprised by his declaration.
"I'd like that too Theo."
His genuine smile in response almost had her swooning.
They stayed by the lake for what felt like hours. He shared with her his favourite muggle authors and literary works, and she promised to show him muggle music.
After their legs began to cramp up from sitting on the ground for so long, they meandered their way back up to the castle side by side, pausing at the entrance.
"Thanks for the pep talk buddy", Hermione said as she gave him a soft punch to the shoulder with a wink.
Theo rolled his eyes with an exaggerated smile. "The pleasures all mine mate", he said before ruffling her hair.
She watched him turn towards the dungeons as he called over his shoulder, "Don't be a stranger, Granger."
"Don't be a swot, Nott."
"If this is the kind of banter I can expect, then this friendship is doomed."
"You started it."
He shook his head before giving her a final wave, leaving her feeling quite fulfilled.
Hermione’s next venture was to seek out Ginny and give her a stern talking to over her ridiculously loose lips around her boyfriend. The more Hermione thought about it, the more she realised how similar the couple was. Harry was just as much a sucker for gossip as Ginny was.
Traitors, she thought to herself half-heartedly.
She started making her way back to the Gryffindor common room, the hallways a little quieter on a Sunday. Most students were either outside enjoying the sunshine or making their way down to Hogsmeade. She hoped Ron would be there and well away from her, wanting to avoid another repeat of breakfast. She turned a corner when her body suddenly collided with something solid.
She stumbled forward, her head all but pressing into the person's chest before large hands righted her.
"I'm so sorry-"
"What the fuck-"
Standing back, an irritated Malfoy in his full Quidditch training gear looked down at her before quickly removing his hand from her arm in realisation.
His gloved hand lowered to his side in a clenched fist while the other clutched his broom tightly.
"Granger, out for a stroll are we?", he bit.
"What's it to you?"
She noticed his eyes flick to her neck before returning to her face, another layer of hostility fuelling his cruel expression.
"Well, if you have enough time to walk about the castle and dry hump my best mate, I figure you'd have enough time to fix a fucking blood ritual that was your stupid idea in the first place."
She clenched her own fists by her side.
"I'll get to it", she bit out between gritted teeth.
He managed to subtly box her in against the wall, further blocking her path. He leaned down so his mouth was by her ear, breath hot and menacing.
"Because if I have to listen to the sound of you coming one more time, I'll be sick to my fucking stomach", he muttered gently.
The words accompanying his soft tone unnerved her while a trail of heat slithered up her neck. She put it down to outrage as she glared up into his steel gaze.
"How do you think I feel? I've had to listen to you all bloody week!", she seethed.
"Not my problem Granger. Fix your fuck up, or else."
The threat made her bite back a laugh as she rolled her eyes.
"Or else what? What can you possibly threaten me with? Shame? Torture? Death? I've seen it all Malfoy. You can throw your little tantrums all you want, but at the end of the day, you agreed", she emphasised her point by prodding a finger into his chest, "Now, I will fix this mess as soon as I can, but here's an idea. If you're really that desperate, wander over to the restricted section, pick up a fucking book and start reading. Otherwise, let me work it out."
She didn't wait for an answer as she shoved him aside, striding as far away from him and his perplexed expression as she could.
Ginny met her gaze in the girl's dormitory with fright, holding her hands up in surrender.
"I swore Harry to secrecy, and you know how loose my lips get when I drink-"
Hermione held up a hand to silence her.
"I'm not mad at you Ginny."
"Really? Because you walked in here like you were about to murder someone."
She fixed her face as she dismissed Ginny's comment with a wave. "I just had a run in with Malfoy, not important."
She sat beside the girl on the bed.
"I'm more peeved with your brother."
"Harry told me. Ron can be such a git when it comes to Slytherin, but I told Harry not to bring it up in front of him again."
"But we shouldn't have to tiptoe around Ron if heaven forbid, we have friends outside of Gryffindor."
"Well he's alright with Luna and-"
"You know what I mean Ginny. Slytherin. Friends with Slytherins."
Ginny raised a curious eyebrow. "Oooo... Would one of these Slytherins happen to be Theodore Nott?"
Hermione felt herself blush. "Possibly."
"I knew it! Tell me everything!"
Hermione rolled her eyes but confided in the girl. It felt nice to feel normal. To giggle in hushed tones while Ginny appeared positively scandalised by her confession.
"You smoked?!"
"Really? That's the part that shocks you? Not the dry humping against a wall with the possibility of getting caught?"
Ginny laughed before shaking her head.
"Wow. A part of me didn't know you had it in you Hermione."
"Neither did I, to be honest."
"Well, I'm glad. You deserve to be happy and to have fun. Anyone who wants to get in the way of that can piss right off."
"Even your brother?"
"Especially my brother."
Hermione let out a sigh of defeat as her head hit the pillow, library books strewn around her on the bed. She'd been at it for hours, reading through at least five different tomes on the dark arts that she'd manage to find in the restricted section.
Unsurprisingly, the blood magic book that got her into the mess in the first place seemed to be put on the shelf unintentionally, or at least not by a professor. Because she failed to locate any other book or scroll that referenced the blood ritual her and Malfoy had performed specifically. The only other ritual that seemed remotely similar was a blood pact, but that didn't mention anything about forming a telepathic connection. There were too many missing elements and unexplained circumstances. If anything, she felt more confused than she ever had before.
She knew telling Malfoy her lack of progress would result in another tantrum on his part, and she was sick and tired of avoiding his glare as it was.
It was bad enough that halfway through Hermione's unorthodox study session, him and Pansy had decided to go at it in a broom cupboard, resulting in her telepathically witnessing and feeling his orgasm before he mentally complained of a broomstick digging into his back. Thankfully, the encounter had been quick and she was able to refocus on her futile efforts before throwing in the towel.
Hermione tried to relax as she lay still in the darkness but her body was filled with tension. Her lack of progress on deciphering the ritual and the growing animosity between her and Malfoy was proving exhausting. Being an unwilling witness to his earlier tryst also hadn't helped, a familiar desire already unfurling within her core.
She was reminded of his words from earlier that day.
"Because if I have to listen to the sound of you coming one more time, I'll be sick to my fucking stomach."
The memory enraged her, especially given that he didn't spare her a thought when engaging in his many dalliances.
Well two could play at that game.
She muttered a silencing spell from within the privacy of her canopy before she settled under the covers. She closed her eyes and revisited the memory of her and Theo on the stone bridge. His chocolate brown hair, his hazel eyes, kretek dangling seductively from in-between his lips, his mouth on hers, his tongue at her throat, her legs firmly wrapped around his hips, his hardness pressing against her core, his fingers grazing her nipple, his hot breath against her cheek, the motion of his groin sliding roughly between her open thighs...
Her hand had slipped beneath her pyjama bottoms, rubbing circles into her clit while her other hand squeezed at her breast. The delicious ache built until she shattered, back slightly arching as the orgasm seeped into her bones, relaxing her body completely.
As sleep overcame her, she almost missed the strained masculine groan of the word 'Fuck' echo in her thoughts. She put it down to remnants of the memory with Theo replaying in her mind, as any other explanation was simply out of the question...
Right?
The withdrawals kicked in with a vengeance.
Hermione woke up feeling like she'd been mowed down by a troll.
Her mouth and throat were parched. Her body ached as her joints whined in protest at any form of movement. Nausea nestled into her stomach while chills and fever raked over her flesh. She felt crippled with exhaustion even after a full nights’ rest, but her body and mind wouldn’t allow her to nod off again. She knew if she’d looked in a mirror, her bloodshot eyes would be carrying dark bags.
The symptoms manifested in the same manner as after she’d performed the ritual with Malfoy. Except this time, her body knew exactly what she needed. What she craved. And it was all she could think about.
blood...blood...blood
Dripping down her throat like honey...it was enough to make her groan into her pillow.
blood...blood...blood
The words harmonized in her mind with a masculine rasp.
Malfoy.
He was feeling it too, his thoughts echoing hers.
She managed to drag herself from the bed, allowing the hot water of the shower to pelt her skin until it was pink before dressing in her Gryffindor robes.
Everything was an effort.
She walked through the common area without saying a word to anyone, avoiding Ginny and Harry’s look of concern.
She sluggishly made her way to the Grand Hall for breakfast as other students trickled through the halls with the same idea. Her limbs felt heavy with each step, to the point that she had to place a hand on the wall for leverage.
She needed to find Malfoy, and quickly.
Except he found her.
A hand wrapped around her arm, yanking her out of sight and into a broom cupboard.
She should have protested the rough handling of her body but she barely had the energy to hold herself upright.
"Happy Granger? We're both fucked”, he seethed, breath hot against her face as he invaded her personal space, the tiny confines of the cupboard borderline suffocating.
His exhausted and desperate appearance gave away his internal struggle.
"I'm thrilled”, she mumbled.
The time for chit chat was over apparently.
Without warning, he pushed the sleeve of her robe and shirt up, baring her wrist.
With the flick of his wand, a line of scarlet appeared across her skin.
He didn't wait for permission and she didn't bother to object.
His mouth firmly attached itself to her wrist, sucking thick drawls of the warm liquid.
He let out a groan of relief, eyes squeezing shut.
Her lids grew heavy aswell, a soft sigh escaping her lips.
Mild contentment skimmed across her body as if she were sinking her limbs into a hot bath.
After a moment, his mouth detached and his tongue ran over his plump bottom lip. He wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his robe, his grey eyes now sparkling with life whilst his cheeks flushed pink.
“Well, that’ll do me Granger.”
He went to leave but she quickly moved in front of the door.
“What are you doing?”
“Going to breakfast.”, he said as if it were obvious.
“And what about me?”
“What about you Granger?”
He was really going to make her say it.
“I need blood.”
“I’m sure one of your Gryffindor buddies can help you out.”
Hermione could just imagine it. Harry, can I drink some of your blood because I performed a ritual with your sworn enemy? Not that they were enemies anymore, but still.
It wasn’t just the absurdity of involving other people in their fucked-up situation either. The thought of drinking anyone else’s blood just didn’t appeal to her in the slightest and she didn’t know why. Blood was blood, right? She refused to believe it was the quality of Malfoy’s so-called pure blood.
No.
Because by that logic Malfoy should have been gagging with disgust at the taste of her, not seeking out her blood like his life depended on it.
No. It had to be the ritual. They performed it together, therefore their blood only appealed to one another. It was the only explanation she could think of.
“You know I can’t do that.”
“And why not?”, he asked with exaggerated naivety.
“For the same reason you can’t ask one of your Slytherin cronies. Unless you want me to share with them our little predicament?”, she threatened, not in the mood to draw this out any longer.
“Fine. But my schedules pretty full right now, maybe I'll get back to you later.”
He shoved past her, leaving her alone and starving. He was going to make this as unbearable as he could for her.
The snake.
Her appetite for food had vanished as she nursed a glass of water at breakfast. Her friends picked up on her sour mood, wisely not engaging her in conversation. Ron silently ate his porridge whilst avoiding looking in Hermione’s direction.
Fine by her.
Malfoy was practically glowing as if he’d just left a month-long retreat at a Swedish spa. His perfectly straight teeth flashing her a smile from the Slytherin table like they were best friends. She wanted to get up and throw Harry’s pumpkin juice at Malfoy’s stupid face. Beside him, Theo gazed at her with concern. She attempted a reassuring grin but his expression appeared unconvinced.
The longer the day went on, the worse she felt. She must have looked it too. Ginny softly suggested that she go to the infirmary. Hermione just shook her head. But her symptoms were beginning to worsen. The aches and pains had now slithered through to her nerve-endings, spreading pins and needles from her spine to her arms and legs. It made sitting still in classes unbearable. Her last lesson of the day was Potions. She ignored the smirk on Malfoy’s face as she entered the classroom, sitting as far away from him as possible. Even with her back to him, she could feel the burn of his stare.
Slughorn began his demonstration, but Hermione took in none of it. Her stomach was empty but bile was threatening to rise up her throat. The nerve pain was causing tremors in her hands and legs. A blinding headache was beginning to rear its’ ugly head. Just sitting still in her chair was becoming pure agony.
Am I dying?
Was the blood ritual finally finishing her off? Was this the slow and painful death she’d been avoiding? Is this how it all ended for her?
Her severe discomfort and panicked thoughts had become unbearable.
She abruptly got up from her seat, mumbled a request to use the bathroom and left before hearing Slughorn’s answer.
The tension and weakness in her body prevented her from running, so she settled for an odd shuffle through the dungeons and empty hallways. She was vaguely heading in the direction of the infirmary, no longer caring about consequences. It wasn’t worth her life.
She wasn’t going to make it. Even with the aid of the wall, she couldn’t hold herself up any longer. Her body crumpled against the cold stone flooring, knocking the wind out of her. Her vision was blurry, from the headache or her tears, she wasn’t sure.
She was dying, she knew that. Yet, a strange sort of peace washed over her. Every part of her was still in agony, but she surrendered to it. No longer fighting whatever it was that was draining her body of life.
The blurry shape of someone’s dragonhide boots entered her line of vision, but they were too late. She didn’t want to fight anymore.
Her eyes closed and she welcomed oblivion with open arms.