The Path Taken

The Path Taken

The slapping of skin to skin, the sound of erratic gasps and sighs, the building of pleasure, the feel of carnal desire being fulfilled... the art of love-making and with the most perfect woman in the world was like being in heaven, he thought blissfully.

He heard her moans of pleasure and proceeded to continue the activity that earned such beautiful sounds from her. Each day was full of tedious work; mundane activities that made him just want to walk away - just leave and relax. These things were so tiresome that it sometimes brought to mind how he never used to do these things before. However, the thought that every evening would give the same fulfilling activity made him excel in this task and even provided him with a reason to do them as fast as possible everyday.

After every job was the reward of her presence and that meant more to him than anything on this earth.

So many things had happened, uncountable things... things that he sometimes looked back to and gave him a feeling of doubt; as if he had done the wrong thing; as if he had made the wrong decision. But then he would see her face, her smile radiant and happy because he was here and that would be the only thing he could think about.

Still, there would be moments when he would question his choice - how he had turned his back on the side he had grown up in, renounced everything he had believed in, turned against everyone he had ever known and worked with people he would have least likely worked with...

He did all these - all these just for her... To feel the presence of her heated skin against his, hear her ecstatic cries, fill her with the love that he so wanted to give... Yes, love, because he loved her. For the longest time, he had loved her and every time he would remember this simple fact, he would question his choice no longer.

The love of a woman... 'What a shallow, foolish reason!'

They had been livid, of course... 'A woman?!' they had said. 'Just because of a single woman - a woman you could see everywhere and everyday, a whim you wouldn't have a problem acquiring - you did all these?'

But it was not like that...

A woman, yes, but a woman like no other. She was not someone he could see everywhere in any day. She was not someone who he could have with just a snap of his fingers... she had always seemed like the most beautiful, unattainable prize of them all, and he remembered how ecstatic he felt when she became his.

When he chose this path, it was for the sole reason of being with her. To be with her, he had to prove just how dedicated he was to her side. He had to show them all that he had changed and that he was someone that would prove to be useful to their goal. He did all these things to impress her, to make her like him even more, to achieve the goal of winning her heart over and to show her that he would do anything just for her.

It had worked.

All his hard work and dedication had paid off... he was able to capture her affections.

Of course, hesitation and distrust in his judgment were always present. He would ask himself questions of what-ifs and what-could-have-beens and how different his life might be if he never did this. But all these would be squashed away by a simple smile that she would give.

No one had ever smiled like that for him before. Because of his name and reputation everyone had always admired him or had despised him. They never tried to see the real him. All they could see is the facade brought up by a name. Only her cinnamon eyes lit with such warmth when looking at him. Only her face held that smile when he was around...

Yes, just like now... They had just reached the peak and are were now in a state of haze, him lying on top of her. He was still inside her, not yet wanting to stop the moment of their joining. Sweaty, flushed and with brown, frizzy hair going in all directions, she looked amazingly exquisite and wonderful beneath him. With half-lidded eyes focused on nothing and a small smile on her lips, he felt as her breathing returned to normal, her heartbeat slowing to its regular rhythm.

He kissed her softly, enjoying in the warmth of the afterglow. Her eyes were starting to focus and as their gazes locked, he smiled.

"Draco..." she whispered softly, tenderly, and he cocked his head sideways in question. Before he could ask her about it however, the bedroom door opened and in came a face he had hated since the day they met.

"Finished, Hermione?" asked a voice he least liked to hear.

"Yes, we just finished, actually," Hermione said as she pushed the man on top of her away. "How did it go?"

She shifted her position until she was sitting in the bed. She didn't bother covering herself up and he, unable to resist, stared lustfully at her breasts that were shown in full frontal view. He also didn't fail to notice how lustfully the newcomer was eyeing the same things that had caught his own attention moments before.

"We won," answered the guest simply and he shrugged, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. "We should have attacked them head-on for the longest time before. It was so easy to beat them." Suddenly those eyes looked at him briefly before returning back to lock gazes with her. "We have no use for him anymore."

Sitting in the bed, he eyed the other with extreme hatred. Oh, how he hated him. Vaguely, he noticed that Hermione had stood up, using the bed sheet as a temporary makeshift covering. She went straight to his enemies' arms. "I'm so happy for you..." she whispered gently, as she nestled herself in his arms. "You are right -- we should have attacked them. It would have saved us all this time."

A smirk made its way to the other's face. "Did you hear that, Potter? We won... Now aren't you just glad that you chose the winning side?" Draco Malfoy taunted as he held Hermione closer to him still. He shifted their position so that both of them would be facing Harry, his chest touching her back. He slipped an arm possessively, circling her waist, as he eyed Harry, wanting to see his reaction.

Harry, for his part, felt his anger reach dangerous levels. 'Take your hands off her, you bastard!' he inwardly shouted, seething. 'Hermione is mine! Who do you think you are, holding my woman so affectionately?!' Naked and sweaty, he reached for his wand and was suddenly donned in a suitable attire. He wasn't paying Draco any attention - his hatred was blocking his senses. He was just about to cast a spell to cover Hermione up in something when he noticed two Death Eaters coming in through the door.

Harry had reacted too late. Before he could place a protective charm on himself or do any other thing, he felt restraining spells binding him to the spot.

He was confused. What was this? Some sort of game? What were these Death Eaters doing to him? Had he not helped in gaining this victory? Ginny and that thing that she so loved she had even brought him back to life; even Malfoy and... and Hermione... he had helped them achieve this goal! What was the meaning of this?

Confused and filled with a feeling quite akin to dread, Harry looked helplessly at Hermione.

Her eyes were cold, and her lips held not the smile that had filled him with the warmth he had always seen in them.

Where was she? Where was his Hermione? As she turned her head upwards to look at Draco, he saw her once more. Smiling a little, and with a warm light in her eyes, Hermione Granger, the woman he had so loved looked lovingly at Draco Malfoy.

Harry then began to understand. He could not believe it, but he understood. He understood it all too clearly - he almost felt as if all these were just a vanishing dream.

"Hermione..." he started and saw as her eyes shift back to stare at him. They had returned to their cold, unfeeling state. So, all this time he had thought that she was looking at him; it had all been a lie. She had been looking past him - past him and to the eyes of the man whose arms she was now enveloped in. "How could--"

Draco cut him off. "Take him to Riddle. He explicitly ordered that once his usefulness is over, he should be taken to him..." Draco then turned his eyes towards Harry. "Looks like you'll get a special treat from the Dark Lord to-be and his darling pet. You do remember her, right? You know, your ex-and-now-dead-best-friend's little sister? She isn't so little anymore, let me tell you, but I suppose you can't use the knowledge anyway..."

Harry went still. He had long ceased to listen to Draco's words. All he heard was the part about Riddle. When Hermione and Ginny had joined with Draco Malfoy and the reincarnated Tom Riddle, the Dark Side was divided in half. Half supported the dreaded Dark Lord Voldemort, while half supported the combined forces of the quartet. The whole wizarding community were shocked to see how Hermione Granger, Harry Potter's own best friend and one of Hogwarts' most talented witches and Virginia Weasley, Arthur Weasley's only daughter and Ronald Weasley's own sister had turned sides. Speculations were formed and the most popular reason was how the four were in actuality two couples. Being powerful themselves, and learned in various arts of dark magic (something that once again surprised the masses), these four decided to overthrow Voldemort in order to rule themselves.

This was where the Light Side made a grave mistake. Instead of taking advantage of the situation and destroying their opponents, they decided to wait. They thought that the divided forces of the Dark Side would destroy themselves to the very last. This proved to be a false speculation. The quartet won, and acquired all of Voldemort's supporters as well as resources. Now, having four very competent and powerful leaders, the Dark Side was more powerful than ever.

Add when the great Harry Potter, the Light Side's one and only savior, chose the other side in order to be with his 'only love' the Light Side's forces were completely diminished. He did not believe that his Hermione would fall for the likes of one Draco Malfoy. He thought that she craved the dark arts because of the knowledge they would give. He thought that everyone was a fool for thinking such impossible things. Nevertheless, with him gone, morale was low and their hopes dropped to its nadir when Dumbledore died.

Now, Harry knew that what everyone thought was the truth... Hermione Granger was indeed in love with Draco Malfoy and he had been the greatest fool to believe she ever held that affection for him.

Now, it was too late. They were going to kill him... torture him and kill him like some lowly animal. After everything he did, after all the sacrifices he made, after everyone he betrayed... this is what he'd get?

No...

No... NO...

NO! NO! NO!

"How could you do this to me?!"

The question was directed at her, she knew. However, Harry was too far-gone to actually think about it. "You bastards! Take your hands off me. Malfoy! You did this! You---"

"Lie, cheat, seduce, and when their usefulness ran out, dispose of them," rang the sweet voice he had been revering all this time. "This is the principle that we follow, and it has served us well ever since... Please, do not shout. This is nothing more than a business deal."

Harry stared. He stared at the sweet face of the one he most loved. His best friend, his confidante, his lover... she had been everything he had wanted, everything he had ever held dear. But in the blink of an eye, she represented everything he hated.

"A fair business deal at that, right love?" Draco said to Hermione. "You got what you wanted, and we got what we needed. Consider yourself lucky, Potter. Not many had ever acquired that privilege. You were one of the... chosen few."

"You've just outlived your usefulness, you see," Draco said, his hand steadily moving upwards on Hermione's ribs towards her breasts. "We needed something to drop our enemy's forces. We needed somebody so influential he could turn the side of the war to his liking... It was fortunate that you decided to show yourself at that moment. Show yourself and declare your heart-felt feelings for my wife. It really was fortunate, wasn't it, love? Fortunate for us."

Hermione smiled, her hand reaching backwards towards him. His wife. These words ran in Harry's mind. Draco Malfoy's wife? Hermione... he couldn't believe it...

Anger and betrayal clouding his every sense, Harry struggled with every bit of his power against the spell that bounded him, but it was of no use.

It was of no use at all. He had lost, and he had been the reason behind it all. There was nothing he could do. Absolutely nothing.

Harry Potter, the Boy Who Loved, had never really considered himself as a genius, but he had been confident in his ability to think straight. He had considered everyone an extremely great fool for not seeing through Hermione's mask to her true intention - knowledge and power. However, as Draco bent down to capture Hermione's lips in his, smirking and looking pointedly at him all this while, Harry couldn't help the feeling...

He had been the fool all this time.

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