Spoilers: All four books

Summary: After the death of Lucius Malfoy, Draco Malfoy takes over his place in the
Death Eater’s inner circle. Draco’s first task is to get Hermione Granger as a pawn by
seducing her and getting her pregnant with his child. The need for siring a child is to ensure
Hermione’s permanent bond to the Dark Side.  It is not an easy task to begin with, but
emotions, pride, and Ron Weasley make things even more complicated. Worse, Voldemort
has other horrible plans for Hermione and the child which nobody knows, not even Draco.
If the plans push through, it will be the ultimate downfall of Harry Potter and the Light Side.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK
Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books
and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or
trademark infringement is intended.

A/N: Please review so I’ll know if my story was able to entertain you even if for just a little
while. Flames are welcome so I can improve my story.

Content warning: This story is rated R for a reason. This chapter is just rated PG, but some
of the later chapters have sexual content, but still well within the bounds of an R rating. Be
reminded that the characters are older here, so they deal with mature stuff. If you do not like
to see the characters that way, then do not read this. You’ve been warned.

Dark Child

by bohemian vixen
 
 

Chapter 1
 

‘You’d think that after his father died, he would change. Possibly become mellow,
subdued…maybe become soft in the least bit. But no, he’s much worse. The Malfoy
blood reigns supreme in his veins,’ Hermione thought of Draco Malfoy bitterly. It was
Saturday, and late in the afternoon, she had been walking towards the library when she
bumped into Malfoy, and as usual, this was met by a trademark Malfoy insult. However,
his insult today was one of the worst she had ever heard from him.
 
 

      “Watch where you’re going, you filthy Mudblood,” Draco snarled.

      “I’ve heard that a million times before, Malfoy,” Hermione retorted while she picked up her books
       from the floor. “Couldn’t you be more creative?” Hermione stood up and looked straight into his eyes.

      Malfoy did not miss a beat. “Well, well, well. Granger is becoming a smartass lately, hasn’t she? Must
      be an effect of being Head Girl,” he sneered. “It suits you, a dirt like you talking dirt. You must have
      gotten that from your muggle father. As much as I wish my father were still alive, I’m grateful that I have
      a dead pureblood for a father than a living muggle one. Then again, your father may not live that much
      longer.” He gave a low, hollow laugh.
 
 

Hermione felt as if Malfoy punched her in the face. She was shocked and furious. She
could take insults against her, but not insults directed to her family and friends, especially
her family—her family who had never meddled with the business of the wizarding world.
On top of it all, Malfoy implied a threat targeted at her father!
 
 

      “Never bring my family into this, Malfoy, or else I also won’t spare your father. I’ll say things against him
       that will make him turn over in his grave. And I’d die first before you or anybody from the Dark Side
       get within a one-mile radius from my family. ” Hermione surprised herself with the viciousness in her voice.
       She was really angry because her brain, for once, could not keep up with her mouth. “If you have any
       insecurity about your pathetic excuse for a family, don’t lash it out on mine.”

      Hermione was a bit horrified. That was below the belt. She sounded like a female Draco Malfoy. But then
      again, that Malfoy started it. And she meant every word she said, even if she thought that she should have
      kept them to herself.

      Hermione discreetly clutched at her wand, anticipating curses from him. But Malfoy’s lips ever so slowly
      formed that signature smirk of his. “Granger, you’re getting better at it with each passing day.”  His eyes
      lingered over her face, his lips frozen with that smirk. Hermione thought “it” meant her ability to insult, but
      as Malfoy took one step backward and surveyed her lazily from head to toe, she was not really sure what
      “it” meant.

      She stood there, frozen and uneasy under his steely gaze, which seemed to appraise her.

      “Watch your back, Granger. What you don’t know can actually hurt you,” Malfoy hissed. The next thing
       she knew, Malfoy walked past her and paced leisurely, not glancing back at all.
 
 

An hour had passed since that encounter, and now she was sitting at one of the tables at
the back of the library. She should be reading the book about Advanced Transfiguration
that was lying open in front of her, but Hermione kept replaying the scene in her head.
Somehow she found it odd not to hear Malfoy say things like “You don’t have the right
to speak the Malfoy name in vain” or something along that line. It was not like him not
to retort back.

Not that she thought Malfoy became less horrible than he always was. In fact, what she was
thinking was contrary to that. She realized that all these years, she had always been annoyed
and irritated, and most of the time, furious, at Malfoy. But as far as she could remember, she
had never been scared of him. She always thought of Malfoy as a spineless, petty spoiled
brat, whose bark was worse than his bite. But she had not been scared of him. Voldemort
was someone she was scared of, but not Malfoy…until now.

There was something in his eyes that told her Malfoy had grown up, and that he had no
time for petty exchanges…because he had moved on to something else. There was a glint
in his eyes that made him look like the devil himself. If Malfoy had been horrible before,
now Malfoy seemed…evil. Hermione had a very strong hunch that she was right. For that,
she was scared as much as she hated to admit it even to herself.

At the back of her mind she knew that her hunch had a basis. When Mr. Malfoy died at
the hands of some Aurors early this year, Draco Malfoy inherited the Malfoy Manor and
his father’s wealth. And she was sure that after graduation from Hogwarts, Malfoy would
also inherit his father’s place at the inner circle of Death Eaters. Voldemort had risen when
they were in fourth year. It had been three years since then. Voldemort was now stronger,
more powerful, and had more followers. So far, there was no all-out war yet in the wizarding
world. Things were still generally peaceful and normal, but there had been more and more
“isolated” cases of terrorism and killings by members of the Dark Side. Lives had been
lost—lives of both muggles and magic folk.

Anytime soon, a war would definitely break out. It would be just a matter of time. The
good side would not give in to Voldemort without a fight, and Voldemort and his Death
Eater cronies would never stop in their quest for domination…and that quest included
annihilating muggles and  “mudbloods” so that only “purebloods” could live and reign.

Hermione’s brain processed her thoughts one by one and something became clear to her.

Malfoy hated her ever since they met—their hatred for each other was no secret. She
was what Malfoy called a “mudblood”. She was Harry’s friend. Voldemort was Harry’s
archenemy.

Voldemort and the Death Eaters had killed many people, especially “mudbloods”.

Malfoy would soon become a Death Eater, and a part of no less than the inner circle of
Voldemort.

Malfoy now had the money, power, connections, and influence in his hands to do anything
and get away with it. And when he would eventually become a Death Eater, he would have
more of those things.

And they, she and Malfoy, were both here at Hogwarts.

They, a Death Eater in-the-making and a “mudblood”, were at the same place, for crying
out loud.

Of course, she had always believed that Malfoy would end up being a Death Eater in the
future. But that future was just a few months away, right after graduation.

She did not dare admit it to herself, but she definitely had a reason to be afraid.

But Hermione, the ever logical thinker, brushed those thoughts away, convincing herself that
everything was just paranoia brought about by stress with the coming final exams.
 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Hermione?” Ron’s voice penetrated Hermione’s morbid train of thoughts.

“How did you know I’m here?” Hermione asked rather absently, not casting so much as
a glance at Ron.

“Duh, Hermione. You aren’t expecting me to answer that, are you? You know what they
say, ask a stupid question, get a stupid answer,” Ron said, rolling his eyes and smiling
good-naturedly.

She looked up at Ron. His appearance have changed—he was now taller, well-built, and
handsome in an unconventional way (with his standout fiery red hair and sprinkle of freckles).
Some girls thought of his unpredictable temperament as appealing. But despite of the change
in appearance, he was as sarcastic as he had always been.  After almost seven years of
friendship with Ron, she had grown quite used to his sarcasm. She had grown rather fond
of it, to be exact.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Hermione asked, even though she knew very well
what Ron meant.

“You know very well what I mean. Your relationship with the library is practically an
institution. I rely more on you being found in the library than on the sun rising everyday.”
Ron said, chuckling.

“You also know very well that that is an exaggeration. But I won’t argue with you because
I know that you’ve got an endless supply of sarcastic comebacks. It’s useless to fight back.
I rest my case.” Hermione smiled. Ron had a mock horrified expression on his face. Usually,
Hermione and Ron bantered good-naturedly, but tonight she did not feel like thinking up of
comebacks. She had other thoughts in her mind at that moment.

“Why are you looking for me, then?” she questioned.

“It’s dinnertime. Harry and I figured you lost track of the time because you were so
enraptured with schoolwork, no less with Arithmancy,” Ron said, noting the open book
on the table.

“It’s Transfiguration, not Arithmancy.”

“What difference does it make?” Ron said dismissively. “Let’s go to the Great Hall now,
or else all we’ll end up with is pudding!” Ron said excitedly, obviously imagining all kinds
of gourmet food and drinks he would consume after a tiring afternoon of playing Quidditch
for recreation with some Gryffindor and Ravenclaw guys.

‘What difference does it make?! WHAT DIFFERENCE DOES IT MAKE?! Ron is
hopeless,’’ Hermione thought incredulously. “Where’s Harry?” Hermione asked Ron,
who was giddy with impatience from waiting for Hermione.

“I let him go ahead to the Great Hall. He was a bit pissed off because the Gryffindor
Quidditch team wasn’t motivated much with his pep talk this afternoon. The players
wanted a day off today but Harry insisted for a practice,” Ron explained. “Harry used
to complain about Oliver Wood’s obsession with winning, but now that Harry’s captain,
he’s just as obsessed as Wood then! I don’t blame him, though. The next game is versus
Slytherin, and no way should Malfoy’s team win…No way. I bet Malfoy paid his way to
become captain of their Quidditch team,” Ron said emphatically.

Hermione flinched at the mention of “Malfoy” but Ron did not notice it, because he was
halfway out of the library. She gathered all her books and stuffed them inside her bag. She
could hear Ron yelling “Hurry up!” from the library entrance.

Hermione rushed out the door, feeling a little guilty with the noise she and Ron made in the
library when she saw Madame Pince’s disapproving look.
 

*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was dinnertime, and as usual, the food on the tables was superb and abundant. However,
Draco had no appetite. He pushed the steak around his plate with his fork and knife while
lost in his thoughts about Granger and what the Dark Lord ordered him to do to her. His
so-called friends, Crabbe and Goyle, who were sitting at either side of him, were too busy
gobbling up the pudding in the shortest time possible to notice Draco’s loss of appetite.
However, it did not go unnoticed to Pansy, who was sitting across the table from him.
Draco had been relieved that he managed to get Crabbe and Goyle to sit at either side of
him before Pansy got the chance to sit beside him. But Pansy had the foresight to sit across
the table from him, where she was casting looks ranging from flirty to sultry at Draco.

“Draco, what’s wrong? You have not eaten more than three bites off your steak,” Pansy
cooed at Draco.

‘She keeps count of my bites? This girl is pathetic,’ Draco thought mercilessly. He hated
it when someone disturbed him while thinking. ‘And that someone, of all people, had to be
Pansy with her annoying shrill voice.’

Draco said out loud, “Nothing’s wrong, Pansy. I just don’t feel like eating, and talking as
well.”  His tone reeked of shut-up-or-you’d-be-sorry air. He highly doubted if Pansy would
be able to get his real message, though. Pansy was just a shell, hollow between her ears.

It took all of Draco’s willpower not to verbally harass and abuse Pansy. He took care to
maintain good relations with his housemates, the Slytherins. Most Slytherins came from old
wizarding families, which more often than not meant power, influence, and money.

Draco suddenly remembered the Weasleys. The Weasleys were not fit to be part of the
exclusive pureblood wizarding families of old. They were poorer than rats and they associated
themselves with Muggles and Mudbloods. ‘They give magic a bad name.’ Draco thought
irritably.

‘Lucky for me I’m a Malfoy and my house is Slytherin,’ Draco thought with an air of
superiority. What was important was that some of his housemates had Death Eaters for parents…
and after their graduation from Hogwarts, they would be most probably become Death Eaters
themselves. He did not want to be in bad terms with anyone who had connections to the Dark
Lord.  Draco had big dreams of power and greater wealth for himself. He had a good head
start—now he was the youngest Death Eater, and part of no less than the inner circle. He did
not want his plans to be messed up in any way.

Draco was transported from his thoughts and back to reality when he felt something hit his left
foot under the table. He looked across the table and saw Pansy smiling naughtily at him.

‘Now she’s trying to play footsy with me! Didn’t she get it that I want her to leave me
alone? Pansy’s so slow that you could burn her with a candle and she would not feel the
pain until an hour later.’  Draco fought the urge to say to Pansy’s face his thoughts about
her. He felt her foot go up his left leg under his robes.  Draco knew what he had to do. He
stepped his right foot on Pansy’s other foot…stepped very hard.

“OUCH!!!” Pansy’s shriek rang across the Great Hall. “Why did you do that? That was my
foot!” Pansy hissed at Draco.

Draco put on the most mockingly innocent face he could come up with, and being Draco,
looking innocent was not an easy thing to do, even if it was just mocking.

“Oh was that your foot? I thought it was Mrs. Norris. Too bad it wasn’t her. She’s better off
dead than roaming the school with Filch anyway.”  Draco nonchalantly said.

Pansy must have bought Draco’s story, because she was making goo-goo eyes at him a few
moments later, after she had recovered from the pain. Draco was very happy that Pansy
stopped playing footsy with him that he felt he could, just for now, tolerate Pansy staring at
him. He had more important things to think about, anyway, like the Dark Lord’s orders
involving Granger.
 

*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hermione was about to drink her fruit punch when she heard a shriek. She turned her
head towards the sound, and so did all students in the Great Hall.

When people realized it was just Pansy, everyone returned to minding their own businesses.
Every Hogwarts student was used to Pansy’s melodramatic outburst over shallow things.

“Hmph, maybe poor Pansy had just a lovers’ quarrel with her Draco,” Lavender said
sarcastically. She stabbed her blueberry cheesecake violently.

“Ooooh, I sense bitterness in the air,” Parvati answered teasingly. She waved her right hand
in front of Lavender’s face.

“You sound like a jealous girlfriend, Lavender,” Neville said bluntly before taking a spoonful
of potato salad.

“I am not jealous!” Lavender hissed. No one believed her though. The Gryffindors were all
smiling knowingly. The whole Gryffindor house knew Lavender’s huge crush on Draco Malfoy.

“It’s okay, Lavender. You’re not the only one who’s jealous. You have great taste, and
so does the whole female population of Hogwarts. Draco is sure the hottest and sexiest guy
in our school! He’s got the looks, the body, the money, and the enigma!” Parvati said
understandingly and gushingly at the same time.

All the Gryffindor guys who heard Parvati gush rolled their eyes. All except for Neville,
who was Parvati’s boyfriend. Neville was frowning but when Parvati smiled at him
reassuringly, his face relaxed.

“Excuse me, not the whole female population. Maybe I have bad taste, but I don’t think
Malfoy is hot or sexy or enigmatic,” Hermione corrected Parvati.

Ron discreetly smiled at Hermione’s declaration.

“But Hermione, you’ve got to admit that, objectively, Malfoy is handsome,” Ginny reasoned.
Harry shot a warning look at Ginny. “Too bad he’s just too horrible. Good looks is sometimes
wasted on the wrong people. But fortunately, it did not get wasted on Harry.” Ginny added.
She looked at Harry and took his left hand in her right one. A relaxed smile settled over Harry’s
face.

Nobody contradicted Ginny. Everybody knew Harry was as kindhearted as Malfoy was
as horrible. And through the years, Harry had grown to be handsome in a charmingly boyish
yet manly sort of way. Although he did not have a reputation of being notoriously enigmatic
like Draco Malfoy, Harry had a certain air of mystery and enigma despite of his clean-cut
image. Like Ron, he had grown tall and well-built, although he was not as tall as Ron.

Ginny remembered Harry telling her that Fleur Delacour called him “zis little boy” when he
was in fourth year. Harry was what people called a “late-bloomer” and he had been pretty
insecure because of that when he was younger. ‘If only Fleur can see him now’, Ginny
thought as Harry gave her hand a light squeeze.

“Ewww! I saw that!” Ron suddenly exclaimed. He pointed an accusing finger towards
Harry and Ginny.

“You saw what, Ron?” Harry asked pleasantly. His face was a perfect picture of innocence.

“No public display of affection, please! Especially not in front of me!” Ron protested. The
whole Gryffindor table laughed.

“Ron, it was just a squeeze—” Seamus tried to reason for Harry, who was trying his best
to keep a straight face.

“But that’s where it all starts!” Ron exclaimed. His ears were now tinged with pink.

“Yeah. From a squeeze. All problems come from a squeeze.” Hermione said dryly. She
shook her head slightly in exasperation.

“I’ll pretend I did not hear that, Ron. And I know that you know that I’m not a rat,” Harry
assured Ron. Harry and Ron had a big talk when he and Ginny got together. Harry understood
Ron’s uneasiness over the whole setup. After all, he was dating his best friend’s younger sister.
That was a valid reason for awkwardness.

Ron sighed. He was happy that Ginny and Harry, two of the most important people in his
life, were happy together. Ginny had liked Harry since she first read about him more than
seven years ago. That was even before she had met him. Through the years, as Ginny
discovered the human side of Harry, that like had blossomed into love, as Ginny confided
in him before. For the past years, Ginny carried on with unrequited love while watching
Harry fall all over Cho Chang. Harry, on the other hand, had experienced heartbreak when
Cho could not bring herself to like Harry the same way Harry liked her. She had said to
Harry that she did not want to be on the rebound, not when she was not yet over Cedric
Diggory, even years after his death. Harry also had felt tremendous guilt over Cedric’s death.
Ginny was there for Harry when Cho was not.

Both Ginny and Harry had gone through so much and it was about time that they find happiness.
But he did not imagine that they would find happiness in each other. Ron still could not fathom
the fact that his little sister and his best friend were together, kissing behind his back, or worse…
He just could not deal with it yet. It was all too soon. Harry and Ginny had been together for
just three months.

“Harry, just give me time. It’s hard to imagine you and Ginny together—” Ron started to explain
but was cut off by Dean.

“Then don’t imagine. You’ll just torture yourself when your imagination gets the better of you,”
Dean said laughingly. He winked mischievously at Ron.

Ron glared at Dean. “I know Harry is not a rat like Scabbers,” Ron explained to everyone.
This was met by smirks from Harry and Hermione. “He’s a good guy or else he would not be
my friend. But I’m just worried because hormones, especially in males, can have a mind of
their own. At our age, hormones can go berserk and we all know that could happen when
they take over. Harry was able to fight the Imperius curse when we were in fourth year in
Defense Against the Dark Arts class, but if he would be able to fight his hormones is another
matter. I’m just worried about my sister,” Ron continued with what he was saying.

All the girls at their table who heard what Ron said gasped audibly, while the guys snickered
knowingly. Ginny was blushing so hard her facial skin color almost matched her fiery red hair.
Harry’s mouth was twitching. Hermione looked at Ron with her mouth gaping open.

“Wow, Ron, you know more about my so-called raging hormones than I do,” Harry said
while suppressing in his laughter. He pushed his glasses up his nose.

“I suddenly lost my appetite,” Lavender said, putting down her forkful of blueberry cheesecake.

“I think we need to talk again Ron…privately,” Harry continued, pushing away a lock of stray
hair from his glasses in a gesture which many girls find adorable.

“Ron! You shock me!”  Hermione cried out. She had managed to find her voice after a few
moments of shock. Ron could be hopelessly tactless sometimes.

“I shock you because I know about these things? Maybe you don’t notice it, Hermione, but
you’re not the only one who reads, even if I don’t read every book I lay my hands on,” Ron
said proudly.

Before Hermione could retort back, Ginny spoke up. “Um, Ron, maybe you don’t notice it,
but I’m here, and Harry’s here. Please don’t talk about us as if we were not here right in front
of you!”

It was only then when it dawned on Ron. His mouth gaped open and his face tinged red at the
realization of what he just said.

“Oh stop blushing Ron. We would not know where your hair ends and your face starts.
They’ll blend in well together,” Hermione retorted.

The whole Gryffindor table, once again, burst out laughing.
 

*~*~*~*~*~*~

Draco realized that he could not tolerate Pansy staring at him when he was trying to think
about important matters. He stood up from his chair and started to walk out the Great Hall.

“Hey Draco, where are you going?” Pansy called after Draco. She also stood up from her
chair and followed Draco.

“I’m going back to the dorm. I am tired. Leave me alone. I don’t want to talk to anyone,”
Draco said evenly.

Pansy hesitated, then she returned to the Slytherin table. Draco knew that Pansy, just like
almost all the girls he knew, would never dare offend or irritate him wittingly, and that she
would always be at his beck and call. ‘What she does not know is that she irritates me
just being her brainless pathetic little self,’ Draco thought viciously.

He was about to walk out the door when he heard a burst of laughter. He turned to look and
saw the students at the Gryffindor laughing. ‘Maybe over something stupid and childish,’
Draco thought. His eyes settled over a laughing Granger. For a moment he felt an overwhelming
urge to go over the Gryffindor table and do something, anything to make her stop laughing. It
annoyed him to no end to see her laughing like that when he was straining his mind thinking
about how he would accomplish the Dark Lord’s orders involving her. Draco fought that urge,
knowing that it would ruin his and the Dark Lord’s plans. Draco had taken his father’s place
when he died at the hands of Aurors early this year. However, everything was a secret as of
now.  Nobody knew except the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters that he, Draco Malfoy, was
a Death Eater. He could not risk being kicked out from Hogwarts by Dumbledore and be sent
to Azkaban when he was just starting out. He had no intention to be sent to Azkaban anytime
in his life, anyway. That would be a disgrace to the Malfoy name. So he just stood there for a
moment longer, watching the Mudblood laugh, before walking out the door. ‘But it won’t be
long. Tonight she’ll stop laughing.’
 

*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hermione was alone in the Gryffindor common room. She had just finished writing three
essays that were due a week from now. She had finally finished reading the book about
Advanced Transfiguration, and now she was doing advanced exercises for her Arithmancy
class. She was getting sleepy and tired. It was no surprise, because it was already half past
midnight. Hermione wanted to hit the bed and just sleep, but she always took a bath before
going to sleep.

‘I should have taken a bath before studying. Drat, Filch and Mrs. Norris might
catch me if I go to the bathroom, and that will be embarrassing because I’m Head
Girl. I could get lectures about setting a good example. But I can’t go to sleep
without taking a bath,’ Hermione thought.

She thought about it for a little while and she decided to go to the bathroom. ‘Well, I’ll
be really careful. If I get caught, I’ll just tell Filch that I’m just going for a bath,
which is the truth anyway. Even if he would tell on me to the teachers, surely they
will not take it against me for having a bath, I hope.’

She went up to her room and took her bathrobe. She did not need to bring towels and
soap because the prefects’ bathroom were fully equipped with the most luxurious amenities.

Moments later she went out of the Gryffindor dormitory and she walked the dark hallways
and climbed up the stairs. She did not dare to take her wand out and cast the spell Lumos.
She was not afraid of the dark anyway, and she knew the way. She could not risk being
spotted because of a light coming from her wand. She took extra care not to make a sound.
She kept her eyes and ears open for any shapes and sounds that could be Mrs. Norris,
Filch, or any of the ghosts. She dreaded meeting Peeves after hours. Peeves would surely
cause a racket and would wake the whole school.

Finally she reached the prefects’ bathroom, and she sighed with relief. She would just have
to worry about going back to her dorm later.

“Iris blooms,” she uttered the password. The bathroom door opened. She stepped inside
and walked over the cold white marble. The door closed behind her. She had taken off her
robes and was in her short, sheer pink negligee when she heard a low chuckle from behind
her. She froze. As unexpected as it was for her to hear that sound at that place and time,
there was no mistaking that chuckle.

She turned around slowly, knowing whose chuckle was that even without looking. She had
heard it about a thousand times or more for almost seven years. And she saw, near the door,
a young man with platinum-blond hair leaning lazily on the wall. She saw a dangerous flash
in his gray eyes. She saw the insolent smirk on his lips. To her horror, she saw that he was
wearing nothing but a white towel wrapped around his hips.

It was no other than Draco Malfoy.
 
 
 

Chapter 2