For Unexpected: Aging Evil of Love and Power

CHAPTER ONE: The Past Is Where I End

Hermione Granger winced in pain as she slowly dragged the small scissors down her left arm. Biting down hard on her bottom lip, she stared in the direction of the moving scissors as they left their long, red, scratch mark on her pale, creamy flesh. Hermione blinked and watched as a tear fell onto her bloodstained skin, the tear mingling with the fresh blood coming out of the wound. She gasped as the tear stung the cut, and Hermione bit down harder on her bottom lip until her teeth tore the skin and she also felt the metallic taste of blood in her mouth. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut as hard as she possibly could, trying to stop and block out the pain, and especially to prevent the quick, coming flashback rushing back to her memory:

Hermione rested her arms on the ledge of the many big windowsills of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The window was steamed up and the first signs of condensation were forming due to the whipping, cold air from outside which contrasted with the warm, blazing heat from within the castle, created by the fire-lit torches. Hermione's arm stretched out in front of her and she rubbed a clear patch in the steam of the window with her hand and scanned over the Hogwarts grounds with her perforating brown eyes.

The magnificent sight below was breathtakingly beautiful! The trees sparkled like jewels, caused by the gentle, fallen snow on the deep, brown branches. The dark clouds of the midnight sky masked the white, snow-covered mountains in the distance. The lake below shimmered and reflected the moon...not a movement could be seen, and it was still like an artists' painting. Hermione opened the enormously wide window as quietly as possible and was severely startled that no draught swept into the building in the middle of midnight December. Curiously, not a single sound was to be heard either, as if the world had frozen along with the fallen snow that day, or that the world had finally gone and descended into a deep slumber, extremely desperate not to be woken up ever again, so that it could enjoy its ultimate peace, once and for all!

Hermione jumped slightly as a pair of arms wrapped themselves lovingly around her dainty waist and the human responsible buried his head in Hermione's hair, inhaling the scent of vanilla, lavender soap and roses. Hermione smelt like a garden full of flowers.

She giggled, quietly. "What are you doing, Draco? It's midnight!" Hermione whispered.

Draco removed his head from the mass of Hermione's curls and rested his chin on her shoulder. "I could ask you the same question," he replied.

"You could..." Hermione chuckled again. She was filled with such exhilaration: it was midnight and she wasn't fast asleep as she was supposed to be; instead she was roaming the endless corridors of the school. Adding that the fact that Hermione was now with her lover, making it seem more dangerous since he was supposed to be her worst enemy. Which, therefore, signified that no one on any account should ever discover that they belonged together because each and every dream they shared then would be shattered into a thousand, broken pieces of glass.

Draco straightened up and let Hermione rest her head on his shoulde, while they were wrapped in each other's arms. He felt a sense of ecstasy as a brief, cool breeze blew in from the window and whipped his hair back; whereas Hermione let out a mellow sigh of bliss. There just wasn't anywhere else in the world she'd rather be right now - not at dear home or in bed.

"I love you, Hermione..." Draco croaked suddenly. He swallowe,d trying to force down the huge lump which had suddenly formed in his throat.

"You do?" Hermione asked softly, as her breath caught in her throat.

"Yes, Hermione. I love you."

"Thank you. You are very kind!" Hermione smiled up at him. Draco looked down at her and smiled back.

There was a minute of comfortable silence before Hermione piped up. "Draco?"

"Yes?" Draco asked.

"I..." Hermione was just cut off telling Draco her feelings for him by another voice saying, "Where are you? I can hear you! My, my, we are in trouble!" It was the voice of Mr. Filch, the school caretaker, and if they were discovered out of bed - they would be in dead serious trouble!

Hermione grabbed Draco's arm and yanked him to his senses, and they started running down the corridor speedily. Their footsteps were fast and light because if they made one, single sound, they would be as good as dead!

Hermione smiled softly to herself and her curls billowed out prettily behind her as she ran. Hermione had never once, in her seven years at Hogwarts, broken a school rule and she was usually proud of that thought, but not tonight. Tonight was different; instead, tonight she was happy she was breaking a school rule! Quite a contrast for our dear goody-two-shoes Hermione!

Hermione carried on running straight down the corridor until Draco disappeared down a turn. He pulled her along with him and they fell into a dark, hidden corner. Their breath caught in their throats as the sound of Filch's footsteps grew closer and closer. Next, they saw the shadowy outline of Filch's body, formed by the light of the lantern he always carried, creep closer and closer and both of them froze... Filch, then, to Draco and Hermione's relief, passed the dark corner in which they were hidden. They both released the breath they had been holding. Filch was dreadfully monstrous whenever a student stepped out of line.

Hermione reached out her arms and wrapped them around Draco's neck and she looked up at him. Draco bent down and kissed Hermione on the lips. She closed her eyes and her hands clenched the material of his shirt. Hermione broke the kiss but kept her arms around Draco's neck. She whispered, "I love you too, Draco Malfoy."

Draco grinned like the cat that had gotten the cream and whispered back, "Good."

Hermione was snapped out of her flashback and landed back to reality with a bump, what had caused this was the blur of shouts around her. Hermione looked around and tried to focus her eyesight on something, but it didn't seem to recognise anything, all she saw was a smudge of mixed colours. Suddenly, she felt herself being pulled to her feet and dragged by a pair of arms. Hermione jerked abruptly as she felt pain on her left arm. She looked down and saw that it was being held under the tap and the water she saw in the sink wasn't clear. It was red, like blood...her own blood? Someone was slowly sponging around the sides of a cut on the arm, trying to be gentle, but it stung! Hot tears prickled Hermione's eyes.

"It hurts. It hurts," Hermione mumbled meekly to herself.

"Yes, dear, it will. Did you know you cut yourself?" came a motherly voice.

"I cut? I cut?" Hermione whispered.

"Yes, Hermione. You cut yourself."

"Blood in sink, blood in sink...my blood?" Hermione gabbled.

"Yes, it's from the cut on your arm. But, don't worry, it'll get better," said the voice of the nurse trying to soothe Hermione.

"I did it. I did it. I did it..." Hermione repeated over and over again to herself.

Our Hermione Granger indeed was insane. She hadn't always been like this you know. Once upon a time, far away, she was best friend's with the hero, the most intelligent girl in her year, a witch and was living every girl's dream - she was in love...until she was betrayed. Then, the every girl's dream soon turned into every girl's nightmare. It was after that night that things changed and Hermione lost everything she was, and that led to the consequences - Hermione became insane. She had been admitted into Heartlands Psychiatric Hospital two years ago and she had been there every since. Hermione talked in her sleep, talked to herself, she talked to anything and everything really, except to people, but she would listen and respond to herself. Hermione was separated from the living world and lived in her own, wandering aimlessly like a ghost who was forbidden to go to heaven and had to stay down on Earth. It had only taken a year's time, which had jumped from being perfect to horrendous. All it had taken was a year.

The nurse guided Hermione back to her bed and tucked her in like a child and then left the room, leaving Hermione all by herself. Suddenly, Hermione let out a howl in anguish as another flashback came rushing back to her memory. She stood up in her bed and smacked her head against the wall several times, trying to block her reminiscence, and stopped when she felt something trickle down her forehead. She was covered in perspiration and tears were streaming down her face. But no matter what, Hermione couldn't block out the images promptly forming in her mind:

"Draco?"

"What do you want, Hermione?" Draco hissed, stepping out of the dark shadows and into the moonlight.

Hermione asked, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. Does everything have to be wrong to you?" Draco said harshly.

"Well, he's certainly in a mood," Hermione muttered to herself.

Draco pricked up. "What was that, Hermione?"

"Nothing. Nothing..."

"I think it was more than nothing!"

Hermione didn't answer. Instead, she looked up at the sky above her and stared. It was like a paint palette of only blue paint. A swirling of dark blue mingled with an even darker shade of blue at that, with a single, bright, silver moon, which was cast just above the castle of Hogwarts. The moon reflected off a white glow into the blue sky. In ways, it was beautiful, but in other ways, the sky was cold and acted as if it was cut off from the rest of the world, though, naturally it was a part of it. This was exactly how Hermione felt about Draco at the current time. Hermione heaved a sigh and looked back at Draco. His eyes were piercing, and cold and even sinister...

"Draco?" Hermione's voice cut through the silence.

"What?"

Hermione decided against saying "'What?' What do you mean 'what'? Don't you dare 'what' me, Mr. Malfoy!" Instead, Hermione said, "Tell me you love me..."

Draco's eyes met hers and he smirked, his mouth growing wider and wider until he let out a hollow laugh, which grew until Draco was howling and cackling evilly with laughter...it certainly wasn't a pleasant laugh to hear.

"And, what the hell is so funny?" Hermione asked cagily.

Draco walked up to Hermione and his height loomed over her. He looked down and his black, gloved hand reached out to caress Hermione's cold cheek. She glared at him but she didn't brush his hand away. "Dear, dear Hermione," Draco whispered, "I never once told you I loved you." He drew back his hand and slapped Hermione across the cheek, the same cheek Draco had been caressing only a few seconds ago.

Hermione, severely startled nearly, lost her balance but just barely managed to remain standing instead of ending up as a heap of the floor. She was starting to feel as if she was in an abusive relationship and Hermione had read many stories of those from her Muggle teenage magazines at home.

"You are a fucking bastard, Draco Malfoy!" Hermione spat the words out at him, her eyes glittering with rage and, deep down inside, with hurt. Hermione drew back her own hand and was about to slap Draco hard in the face with all the strength she could muster to teach him a lesson when Draco caught her wrist and squeezed it painfully until Hermione let out a gasp. Draco then shoved Hermione onto the ground with a thrust of her wrist.

"You disgust me, Mudblood," he said, before turning his back on her, and started making his way back to the castle whilst his cloak swished around his feet behind him.

Hermione lay on the ground, her fists clenched tightly as a tear trickled down her cheek. She remained sitting in that position for the rest of the night until the next morning. Hermione didn't move when the rain started to fall, nor when the wind blew. Or when a raging storm picked up and thunder crashed and lightning struck. It seemed as if the world was in a fury and full of anger that night. And, indeed, the world was, for havoc started to happen after that night and even all the good in the world couldn't stop it...

Hermione's head jerked up as she felt a fresh tear roll down her face. She quickly brushed it away with a sweep of her hand. The event of that night happened only four days after the memory of the day Draco had told Hermione that he loved her, and it was still fresh and vivid to her mind's thoughts. That night, Draco's personality was no longer the boy Hermione had come to know. He had changed rapidly in the course of a few days; it was if he was suddenly a whole new different person but indubitably not for the good. Hermione tried to revive his right side out of him that night by telling Draco to tell her he loved her. Unfortunately it hadn't worked; Draco had slammed it back at her full in the face and it had hurt. It had hurt so much and it still did, Hermione didn't think she would ever stop hurting.

She had given so much of her life to a single living being, making it worse because he has always been known as her enemy as well. Why hadn't she fallen for one of her friends, or someone who was kind and treated her with respect or someone from her own house at school? Why? Why? Why? But, no matter, how many times, Hermione asked herself that question, she never received an answer. Furthermore, the night right after Draco had left her out in the cold - he had - he had - he had raped her. Hermione let out a cry in angst. Draco Malfoy had killed her self-being that night and Hermione Granger knew she would never be the same...

Hermione slapped herself and stared at the blood-red head print on the wall. She said to herself, "Hermione Granger! Didn't you say that you would never cry again, especially not because of the one who had caused such destruction and trauma in your life? He's gone, Hermione. He's gone. You know that. He isn't here anymore, that was a long time ago..." Hermione nodded to herself and closed her eyes and flopped down on her bed, never once realising that she was being watched the whole time.

The nurse that had cleaned up Hermione's arm, Violet - stood outside the door of Hermione's room with a tear-stained face as she stared at the red, bloody mark on the wall above Hermione's bed. Hermione Granger's condition hadn't improved in two years, but Violet vowed to help her. All Hermione ever did was harm herself, as if she should be punished, and because no one punished her and never would...Hermione punished herself. She seemed to live in a realm of torture and suffering. And it hurt Violet to see her so.

Hermione was so young, she was only coming on to twenty years old, and she had the world to live and experience. Plus, Hermione was extremely pretty, if she had bothered to take more care with her appearance, and she also seemed highly intelligent. For, when Hermione had been first admitted, she talked to everyone in a chirpy voice and used to challenge everyone's views, and Hermione always won the arguments, as she was always right. But, a month later, Hermione refused to leave her room and refused to talk to anyone, withdrawing into a world of her own.

Except Violet knew the only way to help Hermione was to get her to leave her room, talk to others and open up more instead of been locked 24/7 in her room. Violet would force Hermione out of her room if that was what she needed to do. After that, Violet would listen and encourage Hermione to open up and tell her what had happened in her past, or tell anyone for that matter. As no one, strangely, knew her case - just some random girl turned up having gone crazy. Subsequently, Hermione could relieve herself of the torture she caused herself. Violet would help Hermione recover, even if it caused her her life.

Violet was forty-six years old; she could afford to die for she had no husband or family of her own. Whereas, young Hermione had everything still going for her because she was still very young, but Hermione still had five years of youth left to enjoy, she could study and meet a handsome, young man and settle down and finally be happy and content in life.

What Violet didn't know was that Hermione did have a man in her life. The same man Hermione fell in love with three years ago, the same man who shared her happiness, the same man who showered her with love and affection, the same man who had prepared to give up his family for her and the same man who had raped her. And his name was Draco Malfoy.

The only way for Hermione Granger to recover was to see Draco again, for him to see what he had caused her, all the pain and all the suffering and the constant guilt of her never born baby... Yes, there was a baby in all of this. Hermione never meant to kill her baby but she did. She never meant to fall in love, but she did. Hermione never meant to leave her family or her friends, but she did. And she never meant to go crazy and be admitted into a hospital, but she did. There were several things Hermione never meant to happen in her life, but life has its mistakes. Everyone has to learn from them, but Hermione didn't; instead she fell deeper into her troubles. Hermione had never let go of grudges easily, but indeed the biggest grudge she held against was herself.

Only Draco Malfoy could help Hermione Granger, if only Hermione could see him and the reunion went the way she wanted, and then she would recover. However, if Draco saw her again and he screamed and laughed in her face, then Hermione would have rather she had never seen him again, for the reason that Hermione didn't know what she would do or happened if he did snigger at her. But Hermione would never know until she faced Draco Malfoy again, and then her life would be decided. Hermione Granger then, would ultimately have to decide whether she wanted to carry on living...in the path of life and death...

Hermione jolted awake, her heartbeat raced and she panted as if she had been running a marathon, and she had been her whole life, running away from the problems. Hermione knew she couldn't go on like this forever. For her dream had caused her to see life in a different view. Draco Malfoy. Hermione Granger needed to see Draco Malfoy; she needed to face her problems. Draco was no longer going to rule her life; Hermione Granger was going to recover and she was going to experience the World again.

For the first time in a year, the voices in Hermione's head took on a positive note. "Hermione Granger, if you recover. I'll stop bothering you. Do you understand?" Hermione nodded to herself. She was no longer going to hear voices, she was going to recover and she was going to start today. Hermione Granger is going to leave her room and she is going to make friends and talk to everyone, she thought to herself, not muttered. Hermione knew she had to tell someone her problems, and she would one day, when everyone felt comfortable with her and she felt comfortable with herself and was ready to tell her story. Plus, she was already beginning to feel ready, and then they would find Draco Malfoy for her. And, the next time, Hermione Granger saw Draco Malfoy, she would be ready to face him and the world that surrounded her!

Hermione leapt up off her bed, punched her fist in the air and yelled at the top of voice, "I, Hermione Granger am going to recover and leave this hospital once and for all!"

Outside, Violet smiled to herself as she saw the young girl full of smiles for the first time in two years. It was the start of recovery for Hermione Granger!

Draco Malfoy stood up abruptly and his old, wooden chair fell over. Draco marched over to the dusty window and wiped a circle patch through the steam and stared down at the busy, crowded streets of Surrey down below. His right hand clenched and unclenched as his thoughts whirled around his head. Draco nibbled his bottom lip in apprehension. He was in such a fury with himself for letting his mind wander back to his past...the past he'd managed so long to forget, buried at the back of his mind. But life had a way of digging up those horrible memories you had once buried deeply, hoping never to be found again...the past that had happened once so long ago.

Draco turned around and trudged over to the wine cabinet at the back of his sandy room. He poured himself a glass of sherry and closed his eyes as he downed it all in one gulp, as if in hopes into wash away all the thoughts ploughing through his head. Draco walked back over to the window and stared once again down the street. He pursed his lips as a wave of emotions passed over him, emotions that he hadn't felt in such a long time...feelings he'd wished that he would never feel again. Because bringing all the feelings and the memories back up hurt...yes, Draco Malfoy felt hurt. People believed that he was such a cold-heartened person gone numb, who had no capability of feeling any emotion except anger, let along feeling hurt. Except, Draco Malfoy did feel hurt, and not because of himself but because of all the pain he had caused to so many others... Unexpectedly, a single tear rolled down his face and he brushed it angrily away. The last time he'd cried was when his father had beaten him up when he was six, and that was nearly fourteen years ago, and he had vowed from that day, no matter how much pain everyone gave him he would never cry or show his emotions ever again. No matter how much torture he went through, no matter the pain or how much his skin was scarred or how emotionally, physically or verbally he was abused and harmed, through neglect or love. Especially not through love.

Draco hurled his empty glass furiously across the room, watching it hit the stonewall with a striking, splintering sound and splitting into a thousand pieces of broken glass.

He cursed and screamed in his most vociferous voice into the empty space, "Damn you, damn you to hell!"

Draco slumped down onto the floor and he stared, glassy-eyed and vacantly, up at the ceiling, clenching his fists as tightly as he could until his knuckles went white. The broken glass on the floor wasn't the only thing that had broken into a thousand pieces of glass. Once upon a time, many years ago, there had been an involvement with somebody, and if they were ever discovered then, their relationship would splinter. Yet, no one ever discovered their relationship, not even to this day, yet it was still destroyed and broken because of Draco. Because of Draco's own stupid fault, he had sneered at the girl when she had asked him to tell her that he loved her, and had left her outside in the cold, and then he did the most emotionally abusing thing to her that anyone could do and it was worse because she'd loved him and trusted him. Draco had lived with the glee, the guilt and the pain of what he'd done, and finally it'd been buried, but the past was now creeping back up to face him.

The young girl was only seventeen she could have succeeded so much more in life she could have become the first female Minister of Magic, but, no...because Draco had destroyed her, her self-esteem, her self-confidence and her self-being till she existed no longer. Draco had pushed her to the limit. At this point in time, she no longer lived, having died so many years ago. And now, she was back to haunt him, because Draco had destroyed her, to irk him of the past, of the day he'd left her and thoroughly hurt her beyond the pain imaginable. This ghost of a girl's name was Hermione Granger... Draco loathed that name with colossal amount of abhorrence! With the exception of that Draco knew that, deep inside of him, he truly, honestly didn't hate her. He never had, never will and never could. Deep inside.

Hermione sat on the windowsill, looking at the mountains in the far distance, and stared at the millions of tress cascading in front of them, swaying gently in the cold wind. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

It was in the middle of the November night, and a scatter of stars twinkled once or twice in a blink of light and the moon was held above them, smiling down at the world.

Hermione couldn't describe the hurt she was going through, she couldn't put them into words or explain them to anyone. Though she was slowly, gently recovering, she still couldn't the past behind her and speak openly about it.

She let out a gasp of emotion and stared unhappily up at the sky as a single tear rolled unhurriedly down her face. Her throat was caught in a swept of sentiment and she choked loudly against it. Hermione bit her lip as several streams of tears continued to fall down her face.

Her heart closed up and her shoulders tensed as images of Draco Malfoy rushed through her thoughts. She wrung her hands as Draco's voice came into mind, promising her that he would never ever hurt her. Well, Draco, you were wrong. Very wrong. You weren't bothered with me at all. You didn't care a single thing about my feelings, Hermione thought painfully to herself. She hated him and yet she still loved and cared for him. He hated him for hurting her...she hated every person who'd hurt her, but she'd learnt to erase the hatred as she slowly learnt to trust him or her again. Every person who'd hurt Hermione Granger earned a place of hatred in her heart, the time they hurt her. You couldn't blame her. Why did she ever trust them in the first place? Each time, she thought that they would be different, but each year history repeated itself, no matter how much she vowed never for them to hurt her. And each year, it hurt all over again. Wasn't Hermione immune to hurtfulness? You would have thought she'd be able to handle rejection after the many times it happened to her.

Hermione heaved another sigh and rested her head against the window as another tear trickled down her pale, lily face. There was no one to brush away the tears, to tell her that she'd get through everything or tell her that everything would be over soon and she would be fine. No one for her to confide in. No one there to comfort her.