The Sweetest Sin

Chapter 11: Iris My Love

That night, Hermione sat outside in the garden, mulling over the mirror's story. For the entire afternoon, she hadn't been able to take her mind off of it. Everything about it was a complete shock to her. It wasn't just because she now knew how miserable Draco's early life had been, but mainly because of the fact that he had been in love with Blaise Zabini's twin sister.

Just knowing that he can love at all is something new to me, she thought sarcastically. But Blaise Zabini's sister? Of all the goddamn people out there, it had to be her. On impulse, Hermione ripped a handful of grass out from the ground beside her and chucked it into the pond. The tiny blades settled lightly on the surface of the water, creating only the slightest of ripples. For a few minutes, Hermione watched them gently drift around.

She then smiled bitterly. At least we have something in common. We've both escaped with bruises from our encounters with a Zabini. As these thoughts drifted into her mind, Hermione felt her heart swell with guilt. It was as if she were committing a sin by letting such thoughts about Draco's one and only love fill her.

Yet it's not as if I knew her. I have every right to believe she was a horrible person after what her brother did to me. Hermione frowned and bit her lip. I'll never forgive him for what he did, and if it means laying the blame on his family, then so be it.

Maybe you should try a bit harder to forget about him, murmured a tiny voice at the very back of her mind. After all, thinking about it only hurts you.

"I know," answered Hermione out loud. "But I just can't forget about something like that. I'm surprised Draco even managed to forget about Iris if he really did love her as much as the mirror claimed he did."

Are you sure he's really forgotten?

"What do you mean?" she asked, only semi-aware that she was talking to herself.

Maybe he hasn't forgotten about her. Could it be possible that every night he lays in bed beside someone he has no feelings for, fighting to hold back tears for Iris?

"He's not like that. You heard what the mirror said; he's learned how to guard his heart from emotions." Hermione yanked another clump of grass out of the ground, dirt and all. She tightened her hand around it, shaping it into a ball before throwing it out into the pond again. This time, it sank.

Oh come now, Hermione. Don't be one to judge him. You don't know him.

"Now you're starting to sound like him," she muttered irritably, brushing the dirt off her hands.

All I'm saying is, you don't know him...

Hermione shut her eyes tightly and tried to block out the annoying voice. Shut up, she thought angrily. When she opened her eyes again, she was surprised to see light flooding into the garden. Turning to the back door of the mansion, she saw the silhouette of Draco's figure illuminated in the doorway.

"Mudblood, come inside," he yelled.

Hermione blinked. Something wasn't right; Draco's voice sounded different. Nevertheless, she slowly stood up and walked over to him. When she stopped in front of him, he surprised her by roughly grabbing her arm and pulling her inside.

"Come on," he growled, "we're going upstairs."

"What's going on?" asked Hermione, slightly panicked. "Is something wrong? What did I do?"

"Oh, nothing's wrong. Nothing at all." He turned around as he said these words and smiled calmly at her.

Hermione felt as though a block of ice had slipped down her throat and into the pit of her stomach. The expression on his face as he turned around to smile at her had been very much like the one of a snake ready to strike on its prey. His eyes had been unnaturally dark and unreadable, like those of a thestral. She tried to wrench her arm out of his hand but his grip was immensely strong

"Where are we going?" she asked, this time more frightened than anything else.

Draco didn't answer her. Instead, he just tightened his hold on her arm and dragged her upstairs and into the bedroom he had been in with the raven-haired woman a few days ago.

As Hermione stumbled onto the bed, a sense of dread began to creep up on her. She had a terrible feeling about what was going to happen in a few minutes.

"What's going on?" she asked again, her voice shaking uncontrollably.

Draco responded by sitting down next to her on the bed. For a few moments, he sat in silence and stared straight ahead while Hermione tried to gather up the courage to look at him. Finally, he turned to her and said, "How are you feeling tonight, Hermione?" His speech was slightly slurred and even though Hermione was only sitting a few inches away from him, Draco was talking loudly.

Hermione felt her heart quiver hearing her first name escape his lips for the first time ever, but ignored his question. "What do you want with me?" she demanded.

"Just wanted to know how you're feeling," he muttered, leaning in closer to her.

Suddenly, a familiar scent reached Hermione's nostrils. She gasped and sharply pulled away from Draco. "You're drunk!" she accused.

Draco cocked his head and looked at her with a puzzled expression on his face. Then, without notice, a dark cloud of anger passed over his eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"Malfoy..." said Hermione slowly, edging away while she spoke.

"I told you to call me 'master,'" said Draco, his voice tense.

Hermione gulped.

Suddenly, his expression softened. "Don't be scared, Hermione," he said with a small, empty laugh. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Hermione took a deep breath and tried to think of a way to get out of the room. Draco was obviously an unstable drunk, judging from the way his emotions were jumping around faster than she could follow. "Listen, Malfoy, I have to go...help Kathryn get ready for bed."

"She's already tucked into bed," Draco sneered. "You can stay with me."

"How much have you had to drink?" she asked apprehensively, recoiling with disgust as he attempted to seize her hand.

He didn't answer and simply stared at her with those bottomless eyes. Hermione gulped. Time for plan B: run for it.

Jumping up from the bed, Hermione ran to the door and yanked at the handle. To her dismay, it was locked from the outside. She whirled around to look at Draco, scared.

Draco appeared to be undaunted by her sudden attempt to escape. In fact, he didn't seem to have noticed at all. At last, he turned his eyes to her. "Come here."

Hermione shook her head furiously.

Draco sighed wearily, as if he were playing a game with a stubborn child. Reaching into his back pocket, he extracted his wand and pointed it at her. With a small flick of his wrist, Hermione felt an invisible hook grab onto the back of her robes and hurl her across the room to land on the bed.

The force of impact knocked the breath out of Hermione, and now she struggled to regain it as she watched Draco climb onto the bed to kneel over her. She felt as if she were in some dreadful horror movie; everything happening right now seemed so unreal.

"No, Malfoy, don't," she whispered, but no sound came out of her mouth. To compensate for her inability to form any distinguishable words, Hermione covered her eyes with her hands in fright.

Draco laughed. "Merlin's beard, Hermione, I always knew you weren't as brave as you pretended to be back in school." His voice suddenly sounded as if it were back to normal. Although he was still speaking harshly, the slurring was gone.

Hermione felt his hand push away her fingers from her eyes. She looked up to see that his face was nearly touching hers. His eyes bored into hers, and she felt a tremor pass down her spine. His eyes were so dark...so deep...her body went limp as she fell into them. This is it.

Now that she knew the inevitable was arriving, Hermione closed her eyes and tried to bring her mind to another place. She was barely aware of his hands viciously ripping her robe off. She didn't notice when he began kissing his way down her body, starting at her bare shoulder. She didn't even realise that he had already gotten rid of his own garments.

Tears slipped out of the corners of her eyes, yet she refused to open them as she felt his lips make their mark on the vulnerable skin of her neck. She knew what was coming next. Oh yes, he'd been the one who was upset by the fact that she had been raped, yet here he was on top of her. He was just like all of them. Everything the mirror said must have been wrong. A man like him could never love a woman. The mirror said he'd built walls around his heart, yet it was wrong - he simply had no heart. Hermione began to cry.

Worst, and at the same time best, of all, he didn't even know who he was doing this to. She was just another worthless toy to him. Tomorrow, he wouldn't remember any of this. She would go on living her life in his house, perhaps filled with even more hatred towards him than ever yet unable to do anything about it. But this was her job. This was all she would ever be good for.

As she felt his arms lift her up - he did it so easily; it was as if she were a helpless rag doll - and crush her body against his in a brutal embrace, she heard him whispering something into her ear. But no, the sound of her own sobbing filled her mind, preventing her ears from picking up any other sound. What could he be saying right now, anyway?

The first sharp jolt of pain shot up her body, and Draco whispered the word again. The loving tone in which he said it contrasted so severely with his savage handling of Hermione's body that his voice penetrated through the haze that was blotting out all conscious thoughts in Hermione's mind. A second jolt of pain, and she screamed. And yet he whispered again, and this time she understood. "Iris," he was murmuring.

Hermione let out a strangled sob which seemed to spur Draco on even more. A third jolt of pain; she felt disgusting and dirty, like she'd never be clean again. "I love you, Iris," he said almost victoriously into her ear. She tried to pull away from him. No, she didn't want to hear that name. She wasn't Iris.

"I'm not Iris," she screamed, but he clamped a hand over her mouth.

And then suddenly, stars exploded in Hermione's mind. She groaned in pain. Darkness followed the bright bursts of light, and the fourth jolt of pain was barely felt as she tumbled back into the loving arms of unconsciousness.

"Iris...my love..."