Expectations

Expectations Chapter 3

(by elle6778)

Draco apparated back directly into his bedroom with Hermione's limp body in his arms. The second he regained his balance, he dropped the near-naked girl onto his bed and rushed to his bathroom.

Bending over the toilet bowl, Draco violently threw up the contents of his stomach. Even after he had nothing left inside, he continued to dry-retch into the bowl, his burning eyes watering more with each heave.

Draco was by no means new to tortures. Having a Death-Eater for a father meant that at a young age, he had been exposed to these sorts of sights on various occasions. His father had also taken great pride in telling him the tales of tortures that he had inflicted on those they considered to be less than a Pureblood. But Draco had never done it himself. He had never cast such a curse, let alone at someone he had known since he was eleven. Hermione Granger was no friend of his, but what he had done to her made him feel sick to the bone.

Voldemort was a deranged bastard and he knew it, Draco thought viciously. There had been no need to do what they had done to the Mudblood. But Draco could hardly disobey his instructions; he was already deep enough in trouble himself. Lucius's performance prior to his incarceration in Azkaban had displeased Voldemort, which had brought the entire mess down on Draco's shoulders. Draco's failure in carrying out Dumbledore's assassination had worsened the situation. With the threat of Voldemort over their heads, Narcissa had stressed repeatedly the importance of not antagonising the Dark Lord any further, and Draco knew that she had been wise to be worried over his safety.

So Draco had no choice but to do what he was told. Voldemort wanted entertainment and he had gotten it. He had gotten to see the Mudblood subdued and stripped in front of him.

Draco had tried not to look when she had been forcefully made to remove her clothes, but he could not help noticing her long legs and her well-developed body which had been hidden from the rest of the student population under those flowing school robes. The only time anyone had a hint of what she looked like under those robes had been during the Yule ball in the fourth year, and that was two and a half year ago. Since then, Draco noted that she had obviously developed further and grown physically more beautiful.

The fact that he was having these thoughts when the girl was obviously in pain sickened him. Not only she had been under the Imperious curse, she was also a Mudblood. Draco was revolted at himself for ogling her.

He leaned back against the cool side of his bathtub, trying desperately to slow his breathing. After a few minutes, he stood up unsteadily and went to wash his face.

When he went back into his room, Hermione began to stir. It suddenly registered to him that she was lying in his bed. In his hurry to get to the bathroom, he had not thought twice about dumping her onto the most convenient place, and this happened to be his bed.

A Mudblood was lying on his bed.

His mother would kill him if she saw Granger there, Draco thought as he stepped to the side of the bed. Giving her a look of revulsion, he said harshly, "Get up, Mudblood. You're soiling my sheets."

Her eyes snapped open to stare right into his. Her look of confusion was instantly replaced with loathing when her awareness struck. Her lips thinned as she bit out, "Malfoy, you prat! You won't get away with this!" She crossed her arms over her chest to cover whatever that was left of her modesty.

Purposely raking his eyes up and down her body in a blatant move to increase her discomfort, he sneered, "Too late to be shy now. I've seen most of it, and frankly, I'm not too impressed." A Slytherin through and through, he did not even twitch an eyelash when he uttered those blatantly false words.

"You're disgusting! I can't believe you've sunk so low," she snapped angrily.

"What do you expect from me, Granger? I'm the big, bad Death-Eater, remember. Or do you need to see my Dark Mark to convince yourself?" Grabbing his cloak from the back of a chair, he tossed it to her. "I don't want to have my eyes scarred further by the likes of you. Cover up, Mudblood," he said in a disgusted tone.

"Stop calling me that, Ferret!" she yelled, pulling the cloak around her.

"That's what you are," he stated blandly as he made his way to the door. Without turning back to look at her, he said, "A house-elf will bring you to your room later."

One moment she was staring at him with a look of intense hate, and the next she was on her feet right in front of her. Draco barely seen her hand move before it contacted with his left cheek, the sharp sound of flesh hitting flesh echoing loudly in the room.

His cheek stinging, he whipped out his wand and pressed the tip to her neck. He could not believe that she had done it again. As if it was not enough that she had humiliated him once like this in their third year. But this time, he had the upper hand.

This time, he was the one with the wand.

"You're going to pay for that, you filthy Mudblood! How dare you do that again?" he growled into her face, trying to intimidate her. Trying to show her that he was the one in control now.

He could not detect any sign of fear on her face when she spat out, "After what you've done to me, you deserve it, you prat!"

Draco sneered. "It's you who had gotten what you deserve," he retorted, stabbing the tip of his wand harder against her skin, denting the soft flesh. "Now move back before I hex you."

The young Gryffindor appeared to deliberate for a moment before she finally decided to back away, keeping her hands crossed protectively over her chest. Draco kept his eyes on her face, not allowing himself to look down.

Suddenly, Draco felt that he needed to leave the room. Looking at the practically nude Mudblood filled him with disgust at himself. His brain told him that it was dirty, but his seventeen-year-old body and hormones thought otherwise. Without another word, he strode to the door.

His hand was already twisting the doorknob when her voice stopped him.

"That's it? You're just going to run away without any explanations?" she asked, incredulous.

Swivelling back to her, he snarled impatiently, "What do you want to know, huh? Isn't it obvious enough? You were stupid enough to fall into a trap. And now I've got to baby-sit you until the Dark Lord decides what to do with you."

"Since it's such a drag for you, you could just let me go. I'm sure Voldemort wouldn't mind," Granger shot back sarcastically.

"Don't speak his name!"

"Why? Are you scared, Malfoy? Like how you were scared when you tried to kill Dumbledore?" she taunted.

Her stab at his failure had the effect of making him feel worse than he already was. "Shut up! You don't know what you're talking about," Draco practically shouted, his wand clenched tightly in his hand.

Just ONE hex, and she'll stop being so bloody annoying, he thought vengefully. Then realising how close he was to losing his temper, he took a deep breath to calm himself. A Malfoy did not lose their temper.

"Enlighten me, Malfoy," she said mockingly.

"Always want to know more than you should, don't you. The Gryffindor Know-It-All," Draco jeered. Then he smirked and enunciated clearly, "I don't have to tell you anything." Raising his eyebrows, he gave her a challenging look.

Her eyes narrowed, but she did not say anything.

At that moment, the door to the bedroom opened, catching Draco's attention. He straightened as he saw who it was.

"Mother," he greeted.

Narcissa stepped in regally. When her eyes landed on the girl on the bed, Draco could hear his mother suck in a sharp breath. A myriad of expression which included shock and revulsion crossed her face before she finally recomposed herself, staring at them with a cold, calculative look.

"Draco, what's the meaning of this?" she demanded, gesturing at Hermione as if she was a piece of dirt.

"The Mudblood is my new task for the Dark Lord, Mother," he replied, his repugnance of the situation clear in his face.

Narcissa gave the younger girl a disdainful look before turning back to Draco. "You'll have her removed, I take it?"

"Of course, Mother. I was just going to summon a house-elf," he said and then called out, "Tinky!"

Almost instantly, a soft pop was heard and a house-elf dressed in a faded yellow pillowcase materialised beside him. "Yes, Master Malfoy?" he squeaked, his large round eyes expectant.

"Take the Mudblood to the guestroom on the west wing," Draco said.

Narcissa raised her eyebrows. "Guestroom, Draco?"

"Yes, Mother. I have to watch her and I have no intention of spending that much time in the dungeons," he explained, holding back a shudder.

Draco did not know if his mother was conscious of his aversion towards the dungeons. It had started when Voldemort punished him in his own dungeons for failing to kill Dumbledore. Until now, he could not even step into the place without remembering the torture he had gone through.

Suddenly recalling another thing he had to do, Draco stepped towards Granger.

"What do you want, Ferret?" she asked warily, backing away from him.

Draco smirked and reached out to grab a fistful of her hair, ignoring her squeal of pain. The hair in his hand might not look like much, but it had the texture of softest silk. It was a waste, really, for a Mudblood to have such soft hair, he thought absently as he tugged sharply.

Granger yelled in outrage as strands of her hair disconnected from her scalp. "Oww, you bloody prick! What did you do that for?"

"You figure it out yourself. After all, you're supposedly the smartest witch of our generation," Draco said with a sneer.

Granger's eyes narrowed. "You're brewing a potion," she said accusingly as she rubbed her sore head.

"Five points to Gryffindor for spotting the obvious," Draco said sarcastically. "Bet you're going to miss gaining all those points for Gryffindor this year, huh?"

"And I bet you'll miss losing all those points from Slytherin too," she retorted instantly.

Draco's eyes darkened. The Mudblood did not know how close she had hit home when she had said those words. Ever since the entire mess had blew up, he had more than once thought back to what it had been like when he had been in Hogwarts. Things had been different then. Everyone had expected him to be the nasty Slytherin who terrorised first years and to make life hell for the Gryffindors whenever he had the chance. No one expected him to kill or to torture anyone. No one expected him to perform the Unforgivable Curses.

His features tightening, he hissed, "Shut up, Mudblood!"

"What? Can't handle being reminded of what you've thrown away, Malfoy?" she continued to taunt.

Before he could reply, his mother stepped closer to him, placing a well-manicured hand on his shoulders. "Just ignore her, Draco. She's just a Mudblood," Narcissa said haughtily.

Mother was right, I shouldn't let her get to me, he thought, rearranging his expression into its normal sneering mask. "Hence not worth arguing with," he said with a nod, savouring Granger's gasp of outrage.

As his mother made her way to the door, Draco followed close behind her. A satisfied smirk planted itself on his face when he felt Granger's eyes boring into his back.

***

Harry sat at the dining table in the Burrow, his hands cupped around a mug of tea which Molly Weasley had given him a few minutes ago. Lupin, Tonks, Bill, Fleur and the twins were at the table, their attention fixed on Harry as he struggled to calm himself after telling them what he thought had happened to Hermione.

"I should have gone with her. Then maybe this wouldn't have happened," Harry said softly, his eyes full of remorse. He had been beating himself up ever since he realised that something had happened to her. If he had not been so absorbed in his own thoughts when she had asked him to go with her, they would not be in this fix. Two of them would have a better chance to fight against whoever that had attacked.

"Come now, Harry. You couldn't have possibly seen that one coming," Lupin said reassuringly as he shot a quick meaningful glance at Tonks.

"Hermione's far from stupid, so whoever who did this must have given it a lot of thought," Tonks added.

"I should have gone with her anyway," Harry insisted stubbornly, his voice stronger now and there was a hint of anger in his eyes. It was not fair; he did not ask for all this. Why was it that everything bad seem to happen to him? Why was it that everyone close to him kept getting into trouble? "We have to do something. I'm sure this is Voldemort's work. Who else could it be?"

They remained silent, absorbing his proclamation. Lupin was the first to break the silence. "Harry, You-Know-Who's probably going to use Hermione as bait to lure you into a trap. Everyone knows how close you two and Ron are."

Molly let out a gasp. "Ron! What if he tries to get Ron as well? We need to warn them," she said frantically.

Harry felt his heart sank at the expression of panic on Molly's face. He would just die if Voldemort got hold of Ron as well. Taking a calming breath, he said, "Professor McGonagall knows about this, she's coming over as soon as she could."

"Ron's probably the safest where he is right now. Hogwarts defences had been upped since...since last summer," Bill said, looking pained as he recalled the time which had costed him so much.

Right at that moment, the fireplace roared and Professor McGonagall stepped out, brushing the ashes off her robes.

"Minerva, I'm glad you could join us. Come along and grab a seat," Molly said with a welcoming smile on her face.

McGonagall nodded her thanks and went to the table, placing herself in front of Harry. Peering over her spectacles, she asked, "Are you alright, Harry?"

Shaking his head, Harry said, "I can't believe that they got Hermione. Ron's in danger too."

Giving him a stern look, McGonagall said briskly. "Ron's safe at Hogwarts. It's Hermione we have to worry about now."

Groaning, Harry said, "Voldemort just wants me, not anyone else. I rather trade myself in that to leave Hermione in his hands."

"Even if you do that, not that I'm saying you should, we still don't know where he's hiding," Tonks said and the rest of them nodded in agreement.

"I've been thinking of that, and I think that maybe there's a way. I just need to find out more about it," Harry said enigmatically.

"I hope you're not planning some mad rescue dash, Harry," Lupin said, concerned.

Harry shook his head. The idea had presented itself to him in the summer, but he knew that he had not been anywhere near prepared to do it. It was too dangerous. But it seemed that he did not have much of a choice now. All he had to do next was to find someone willing to help him.

Turning to McGonagall, he asked, "Professor, can I have a minute with you, please?"

***

t.b.c.