Taboo

Hermione returned to her dormitory, feeling weighed down by Malfoy's words. It hurt her a little to think that he didn't trust her enough to confide in her.

But he's already told you so much, she said to herself. More than he's probably ever told anyone else.

That was true. There probably wasn't anyone who understood him as well as she did. But she still felt as if he was hiding something from her. Yes, he'd told her about his confrontation with Pansy and the "assignment," whatever that was.

He's never told you what it is, Hermione, said a small voice in the back of her mind. Which definitely means he's up to no good.

Whatever happened to "innocent until proven guilty"?

It doesn't need to be proved, said the voice. He told you straight up that he's working for You-Know-Who. That can't possibly be anything good.

But the fact that he had been open with her about his "assignment" made her reluctant to accuse him of anything.

Um, hello? Were you listening earlier? He may have told you that he's doing an assignment, but whenever you ask him about it, he shies away. Doesn't that tell you anything?

Maybe it was something really stupid and embarrassing. He definitely wouldn't want to tell her about something like that. Malfoy's pretty big on appearances...

...and his ego. Yes, you do have a point there. But why would You-Know-Who assign some humiliating task? How would that help him?

She thought about it for a second.

That's right. It doesn't. The only reason he would do that is because he doesn't really need Draco's help. He's just having his fun. And when it doesn't amuse him anymore...

Ugh, don't think about that. He's not going to die. He isn't.

What makes you think that?

"He...just can't. I need him," she thought.

Ha. As if You-Know-Who cares if you need him. That probably just gives him a better reason to kill him.

"Don't say that word," mumbled Hermione.

Fine...a better reason to dispose of him then. It's inevitable. He's going to die.

Not if she has anything to say about it...

Is that so? And how are you going to stop him?

Okay, so that was a stupid idea.

Now you realize...

But there has to be some way. There just has to be. If she could somehow convince him to give up his mission...

And have you both on the run from the evilest, most dangerous wizard alive? I don't think so.

She couldn't possibly abandon him.

Yes, you can. Leave him to sink or swim on his own. He doesn't need to drag you down with him.

But she loved him too much. There was no conceivable way she could convince herself to leave him.

How do you know that this isn't a trap? Maybe he's just acting. Maybe he doesn't love at all, and he's just luring you in so you can be part of the plot. Did you ever think about that? Did you ever think that you might be his assignment?

Could all the drama be a trick? Was he really that skilled at acting?

He's just playing you against Ron and Harry. It's already working. His plan, that is. You're his ally now. You get closer and closer to him everyday. And once you get to the point where you wouldn't even dream of leaving, he's going to leave you. He's going to break your heart.

And how is this relevant to You-Know-Who's plan? How exactly does this make him more powerful?

I don't know. Maybe it doesn't. But Draco is still going to break you heart.

You are so pessimistic.

I am you.

She really was going insane. She sighed onto rolled over to the fluffier side of the pillow. She would think about it tomorrow...

---------------------

Malfoy lay in the hospital wing alone. The other students hadn't needed to stay overnight. Madam Pomfrey had turned out the lights, and if he peeked through his curtains, he could see the moonlight shining faintly through the window. Her office was in the back, but he couldn't hear anything because the door was shut. She'd probably fallen asleep, since she hadn't checked on him after she'd given him the potion to drink three hours ago.

He really hated the potion. He'd taken it four times already, each time holding his breath so he couldn't taste the slimy purple concoction. When he'd first woken up, she'd made him drink something cool and minty that put him back to sleep immediately. No dreams, no nightmares. Nothing. Just total blankness. It was kind of nice not to have to think. He wished she'd given him some more tonight.

He couldn't stop thinking about Pansy and the Kiss, as he now thought of it. The gentleness of her hands and lips, her body pressing against his...

You idiot, Draco. She's not your girlfriend anymore. Why are you thinking about her like that?

He felt his eyes dropping. The pillow was so soft, the blankets toasty and warm.

The door to the hospital wing creaked open.

"Who's there?" he called into the darkness.

"Draco, it's me," said Hermione, stepping into the dim moonlight.

"Hermione?" He frowned. "What are you doing in here?"

"Don't you want me to visit you?" she asked, looking hurt. A clock chimed from somewhere within the halls.

"Of course I do, but, er, isn't it kind of late?"

"No really," she said, shrugging. "It's only midnight."

She sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Won't you get in trouble? I mean, if Madam--"

"Madam Pomfrey can't hear us," said Hermione, smiling in a way that made him slightly uncomfortable. Maybe it was just a trick of the light, but he thought her eyes looked a little red. Not bloodshot, but just red. "So, Draco," she said. Yes, her eyes were definitely red. They were gleaming in the dark. He shuddered. "Tell me what it is that's bothering you."

"We've already had this conversation," he said irritably.

"Ah, but you never told me what your 'assignment' was." Something about that sentence sounded strange. Was it the tone, the words? He couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"It doesn't concern you," he muttered.

"It does," she said, leering at him. "You'd be very surprised." Was it just him, or was she starting to look a little blurry? He rubbed his eyes. "Is something the matter, Draco?"

"I--no, it's just my eyes."

"What's wrong with your eyes?" Yes, her outline was definitely hazy. It also seemed to be...splitting. How was that possible?

"You look a little blurry," he said, staring at her. Definitely splitting.

"Better now?" said Hermione. Or rather, one of the Hermiones said. Now there were two of them standing side-by-side, looming over him. His jaw went slack. What the hell was going on here? Was he hallucinating? The Hermione standing closet to him suddenly began to ripple and morph. When the image came into focus again, the Dark Lord stood before him.

"M-master," he managed to stammer. He looked over at the nightstand for his wand. It wasn't there.

"Looking for this?" The Dark Lord was twirling his wand in his bony, white fingers. Malfoy foolishly reached out for it. The Dark Lord laughed and held it out of reach. "You may have it back when I'm finished." It was more a command than a statement.

He turned and strode over to the other Hermione, who looked just as terrified as Malfoy felt. "Your darling girlfriend, isn't it?" He stroked her hair with his long fingers.

"Don't touch her," spat Malfoy.

"Does this bother you?" He ran his finger from her temple down her cheek, cupping her chin to tilt her face up towards him; she shuddered. Malfoy bristled with anger. How dare he...

"Get your hands off her!"

"How touching," he sneered, letting go of her face. "This object of your affection has cost you much, Draco. Your lust has led you astray from your task..."

"No! Please, master!" he protested. "I've tried! Give me another chance!"

"Your attempts have been pathetic," sneered the Dark Lord. "Do you really expect me to believe that you have been trying your best? You have had many chances already...however, I suppose I could make a small allowance. You will be spared this time. But the girl, Draco..."

"Please, master, take me, kill me instead," he begged. Anything but her... "Let her live."

"She has hindered your success, and therefore, hindered mine," he said coldly. "She cannot live."

Hermione whimpered as the Dark Lord drew his wand.

"No!" Malfoy tried to lunge for her, but the bed sheets were constricting him. "Hermione!"

"Crucio!"

She was on the ground twitching and screaming his name. But she was alive, still alive. There was still time to save her. He clawed helplessly at the bed sheets, but they would not give. It seemed as if his master had held them there with a charm.

"Death is much kinder than pain," said the Dark Lord softly. "You should thank me, for I am saving her from the pain she would have to suffer to see you fail again." He raised his wand again. Malfoy struggled with his bed sheets, but he was bound too tightly.

"NOOOO!" he yelled, as he saw his master's lips part.

"Avada Kedavra!" A flash of green light blinded him for a moment and Hermione's body was lifted into the air. She flopped back to the ground, motionless. He felt the sheets fall away from his body and leapt out of the bed. His master did not stop him.

"HERMIONE!" He rushed to kneel beside her lifeless body on the floor. "HERMIONE!" He hugged her to him, sobbing. "I love you, I love you." Her eyes remained glassy and blank, the necklace he had given her peeking out of her blouse. He looked up at his master, his eyes narrowing in hate.

"I cannot undo what I have just done," said the Dark Lord calmly. "It is no use to despise me."

"You killed her! YOU KILLED HER!"

"It was for her own good, and yours as well. You should say goodbye to her now. Perhaps one last kiss?" he suggested, smirking.

Draco gently touched his lips to her cold ones, his eyes closed, the tears leaking out. He let out a shriek of horror when he opened his eyes again. Instead of Hermione, he was now staring at a hideous skeleton, her vivid brown eyes replaced by empty sockets. The bones felt dry and rough in his hands. He let go of her, and she immediately crumbled to dust.

"What more do you want from me?" asked Malfoy fearfully, turning to his master. "You've taken everything that I have. If it's my life you want, then take it. I have no purpose for it."

"You would be no use to me if you were dead. Your purpose is to serve me. And as for what I want...I want your cooperation, Draco." His master handed him his wand. "Do not fail me again."

"NOOOO!"

Malfoy sat up in bed, his body drenched in cold sweat.

"Mr. Malfoy?" Madam Pomfrey had heard his yells and come to investigate.

"He killed her...murdered..." he said frantically. "Must not fail..."

"There, there," said Madam Pomfrey kindly, patting his shoulder. "It was only a bad dream, nothing more."

"A dream? Yes...it was just a dream..." His heartbeat slowed to its normal pace as he leaned back against the pillows.

Madam Pomfrey opened one of the cabinets and poured a clear liquid into a cup for him. "Take this, dear. It's help you sleep better."

He sniffed it and then let the cool, minty drink slide effortlessly down his throat. He immediately felt drowsy.

"Thank...you..." he mumbled, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.