Rating:: PG-13
House:: Schnoogle
Characters:: Draco Malfoy
Genres:: Drama Romance
Era:: Multiple Eras
Spoilers:: Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire
Stats:: Published: 02/13/2002

Updated: 04/03/2002

Words: 10,196

Chapters: 4

Hits: 4,900

Voldenatus

Angela Ambiana

Story Summary:: Draco Malfoy is about to make Hermione an offer she will, of course, refuse. But the Dark Lord doesn’t need her consent. The first instalment of a story of tender love, burning lust, jealousy, desire for power, the search for immortality, but, above all, the quest for the right path.

Chapter 04

Chapter Summary:: Fic Summary:Draco Malfoy is about to make Hermione an offer she will, of course, refuse. But the Dark Lord doesn’t need her consent. search for immortality, but, above all, the quest for the right path.

Posted:: 04/03/2002

Hits:: 798

Author's Note:: Eleven o'clock at night and I've finally finished the fourth chapter of my debut fic - so of course, I'm thanking caffeine. And all the lovely people who left reviews! I hope the plot is a little clearer now - but you have to wait for about two more chapters before you'll actually understand the plot. Feel free to email me with opinions/suggestions!

The blackness faded into grey, and the grey into white...

Hermione's eyes flicked open. She was struck with a sudden sense of dÃ©jÃ vu. It was the same high, vaulted ceiling as last time. She sheets felt the same. The smell was the same - a slightly dizzying mixture of herbal teas, Bubotuber extracts and All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover fumes. She blinked once, twice, trying to chase away the little black dots swimming around her eyes. She opened her mouth to speak -

"Hermione!"

It was Harry's voice. Instantly, Hermione felt his lips upon hers, passionately kissing her in between half-formed mumbles. Hermione felt a laugh rise to her lips, and as she released it, she felt suddenly lighter. Harry removed his lips from hers and simply embraced her. It took Hermione a few moments to register that he was sobbing.

Hermione pushed Harry away to arms' length, so that she could look at him. "Harry, what's wrong?"

"Don't you remember?" Surprise replaced grief on his face.

"What?"

"You died again. But this time… oh, Hermione, I thought I'd really lost you this time… and whoever said hope is what pulls you through is a liar… I hoped you'd awake, like last time, but every day, there you were, dead as the last day…"

"What do you mean?" Hermione's head was spinning. Again? "Didn't I… what about… Harry!" A thought suddenly occurred to Hermione. "Harry, the baby!"

Harry looked up into her eyes. "The baby was fine this time. It never died. It just kept living: that's why we thought you would pull through…"

"But didn't I do that backwards-dying thing?"

"No. Well, yes. But you went straight into a coma. Just then… that was the first time you've shown any sign of life for seven months."

"Then how… seven months?" The words finally sunk in. But Hermione couldn't believe them.

She looked up at Harry. She noticed that he was different, somehow: he was much thinner, his hair was falling differently, there was considerably more stubble on his chin, and his nose was a bit different. He reached over and put his hand on her belly. Her gaze drifted from his face, down his arm, to his hand… and she realised that he was telling the truth.

"Eight and a half months pregnant," he said. Hermione stared down at her swollen belly in disbelief. It seemed like just a moment ago that she and Malfoy were in the hallway, behind the gargoyle…

"I need to see Dumbledore!" Hermione suddenly erupted. "Quick, Harry! It's urgent!"

Harry saw the look in her eyes. He disappeared in a flick of heavy curtains. Hermione heard his footsteps retreating from the wing.

She eased herself back onto her pillow. No sooner had she settled herself than -

"Hello, Hermione."

It was Malfoy. He was a good inch taller, but he seemed diminished. His face was marked with stress and sadness. He still stood with his straight-backed pride, except the way his shoulders hunched seemed to say that he was tired of it.

But the image of what he had said and done behind the gargoyle was still too fresh in Hermione's mind.

"What the hell are you doing here? Get out!"

He didn't flinch. He stepped closer. This close, she could see the hunger in his eyes.

"I felt you wake up. It was like a match being struck at the back of my mind," he whispered, so quietly that Hermione had to strain to hear.

"Why are you here?" Hermione asked. She tried to ignore a throbbing headache that was growing behind her eyes.

"You don't know what it's like," he said, ignoring her question, "to love you like I do. I can't touch you, because of who I am. My heart burns, like acid eating me away, but I cannot even look at you. And Harry… I held out my hand, and he refused."

"What's Harry got to do with this?" Hermione was scared. Bratty Malfoy, she could handle. This was too much.

"You think he's the father, don't you?"

"What are you saying?" Hermione whispered. Malfoy… but he couldn't be!

"No, I'm not the father. I begged, but He had to do it. It was the way it had to be done, or else it wouldn't work. It was so hard, watching Him. Again and again. He knew that I loved you, and He knew that I loved Harry. It was my test.

"But I won't pass it. It's been agony. I watched you grow, sleeping while that… that monster grew… and he - Harry - became weak, weak with sorrow… how I yearned to end it all. But I couldn't. I made a bargain. A bargain with the devil. Forgive me, Hermione - " he fell to his knees, "please forgive me…"

He reached out and took her hand. Pain exploded in her head. She felt a scream forming in her throat, the pain was so sudden, so intense -

"Good morning, Madam Pomfrey."

It was Dumbledore's voice, from just beyond the curtains. Malfoy let go of her hand, and in a rustle of curtains, he was gone.

The pain subsided almost immediately. Hermione tore her eyes away from the spot through which Malfoy had disappeared to greet Dumbledore and Harry. The Headmaster looked older too - his face was deeply etched with lines of worry. Hermione suddenly felt very young and ignorant; she had been away from the world for seven whole months. A few quick calculations told her that she was already seventeen. What had happened? There was so much that could have changed, that must have changed, in seven months.

"Harry seemed to think that you had something of great urgency to tell me, Miss Granger," Dumbledore interrupted her thoughts.

Hermione's thoughts snapped back to the present. "Malfoy! Draco Malfoy! He told me that… he told me…"

Hermione found that she couldn't bring herself to say "he loves me". She remembered the pleading look in his eyes, the sorrow, the beg for forgiveness…

"Miss Granger, I am aware that Mr Malfoy made you an offer mid-last year, which you sensibly refused." Hermione glanced at Harry: of course, Harry had already told him. You could tell a lot of things in seven months.

Hermione looked up at Dumbledore. She knew there was something else coming. She could see the words forming behind his eyes.

"Hermione," he began. She was surprised at the informal address. "There are many, many questions that need answering, and I hope that you might be able to give us some clue. First and foremost, I need to know how you acquired a curse scar."

Hermione blinked at Dumbledore. A curse scar? Her?

Harry saw that she didn't comprehend. "Herms, we found a curse scar on your scalp, about a month after you… after we found you in the halls."

Hermione's hand flew to her head. She instinctively knew where the scar was. It was where the pain radiated from whenever Malfoy was near…

"It is quite puzzling, you will appreciate. A curse scar suggests that you were indeed the victim of an Avada Kedavra curse. But when we found you, you were bleeding quite fiercely. Harry, as you know, also survived the Killing Curse, but he never bled -"

"No, Professor," Hermione interrupted, "He didn't kill me with a curse. He didn't even have his wand. He just… touched me, and it hurt so much I… decided to die." The words sounded strange to Hermione's ears.

"Who, Miss Granger? Who killed you?"

"Malfoy."

The reaction was remarkable. Dumbledore sucked in a sharp breath and closed his eyes. Harry leapt to his feet, pure rage twisting in his face. He took her hand, very tightly, muttering, "Malfoy… if I ever see him again… Malfoy killed you…" followed by several expletives.

Dumbledore laid his hand gently but firmly on Harry's shoulder. Harry sat down, silent but still fuming. The Headmaster said, "Is there anything else you remember? Anything at all? Even from the last time you appeared dead?"

Hermione thought hard. She remembered what Malfoy had said, about love and… something else, something she couldn't remember - but it was hardly relevant. The last time: she still recalled her night with Harry, and the dream immediately following - her recall was as good as it was seven months ago. And that flash of green light in between… there was something important about that, she could feel it… but she didn't know what.

"Nothing I can remember just now. I'll tell you if I remember anything else." She tried her best to form a smile. It felt closer to a grimace.

Dumbledore nodded. "Of course. Well, we are all delighted that you have recovered. I will personally inform the school as soon as possible. I will leave you now to rest and recover - I'm sure you and Mr Potter have much catching up to do." Dumbledore flashed her a kind smile, and turned to leave.

A thought suddenly occurred to Hermione. "But, Professor, what about Malfoy?"

"Don't worry, he was expelled from Hogwarts as soon as Mr Potter told me of his offer to you."

Hermione convulsively glanced at the curtain through which Malfoy had disappeared just a few minutes ago.

"But expelled students aren't allowed back inside the school!"

"Of course they aren't - "

"But he was here!" Hermione's voice rose in panic. "He was here, talking to me, standing just there, just before you arrived! He was here!"

Dumbledore's back straightened and his face stiffened. He was surprisingly tall when drawn to his full height. Hermione saw the fury growing, radiating from within him, building up like a tidal wave. This was wrath as she had never seen it before.

"What did he want?" Dumbledore's voice was steady, but the heat behind it was unmistakable.

"He said that… that he felt me wake up. And he told me… other things." The details were slipping away, like a dream.

"Tell me everything. Absolutely everything," the Headmaster insisted.

Hermione drew a deep breath, and told Dumbledore everything. She started with when she had woken up after her first "death", and finished with Dumbledore's arrival in the Infirmary. Half an hour later, Hermione realised that she had poured out her soul. Harry looked shocked. Dumbledore looked grave.

"I didn't know it had come to this," he said after a long pause. "I've always known that Draco Malfoy loved you, Harry. Do not ask me to explain. His love for you, Harry, is like that of a brother, and the reasons for this love are between Mr Malfoy and myself. Miss Granger, though. I never knew of his feelings for you. It is, of course, surprising, that someone with his family's values would love you with such passion, but I think I also understand the reasons for that.

"But what most captures my curiosity is what he said about the paternity of your child. I have long doubted that Harry was the father - quite impossible, given the precautions you took. And he himself denied fatherhood, which leaves very few options. Only one, really…"

"Who?" Harry demanded, suddenly on his feet.

"Mr Potter, is there nobody you can think of? Nobody who, perhaps, is seeking immortality? Nobody who would use any opportunity to strike a blow to the very heart of his enemies? Nobody who is just strong enough, but still weak enough, to require an heir?"

"Yes," said Harry, almost silently. Hermione understood too.

"There are many prophecies." Dumbledore's eyes flicked to Harry's scar. "The rise of Voldemort himself was prophesised, the rise of Slytherin's heir. And it was called, in the prophecy, the time of the Lightning Death. And that is why Tom Riddle named himself Voldemort - simply the Latin translation. But now… now everything is becoming clear." Dumbledore became silent. Harry glanced at Hermione. She dared to prompt Dumbledore on.

"Professor?"

Dumbledore seemed to snap awake. "We debated for many years after Voldemort fell. The prophecies told that he would fall at the hands of…" Dumbledore looked thoughtfully at Harry, then continued: "of a young boy who happened to be named Harry Potter. But there was another prophecy, an unfulfilled one. The fact that it was unfulfilled was what led many to believe that Voldemort still clung to existence, and would rise again. He has, and the prophecy seems to have fulfilled itself."

"What prophecy?" Harry asked. Hermione could see that he was becoming desperate.

"The prophecy of the Voldenatus. The Lightning Birth."

Hermione sat in shocked silence. Voldemort was the father of her child. But was it a child? Malfoy called it a monster…

Dumbledore's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Miss Granger, immediately after we found you in the broomcloset, I made sure you drank a small amount of Excidoserum." He paused as Hermione recalled what Excidoserum was - a potion that enhances the memory, allowing one to remember something that otherwise would have slipped away. Dumbledore continued: "It is more than likely that you have some memory of your first death, although it may be hidden by a Memory Charm of some sort. Hopefully, this memory has been preserved by the Excidoserum."

Hermione interrupted before she could stop herself. "I think I know where the memory is, if you understand me," she said quickly. "Between falling asleep just after Harry and I… yes, and when I woke up - I remember a flash of green light."

Harry made a strange choking sound. Dumbledore simply said, "Yes, I think we've located the occasion of your first death."

Harry seemed to understand this much better than Hermione did; and since he had turned chalky white, Hermione did not think the news was good.

Dumbledore stood. "Rest now, Miss Granger. Tomorrow, we will arrange for you to remember what you have forgotten. I must deal now with the issue of Mr Malfoy's mysterious appearance." He gave her a kind smile. In a soft voice, he said, "It will be alright."

And Hermione found herself believing him.