A Thorn-Torn Soul of Thunder Weeps For the Rain

by Black-Diamonds
 
 

Chapter 8
Chained / Beautiful Distraction
 

“What!?” Hermione screamed as he snapped the clamp around her wrist with a metallic
click. It was the next afternoon, and she found herself chained to an intricate metal lattice.

“I don’t trust you.” He snarled viciously, eyeing her with suspicion. “You tried to kill me.”

“You’re insane! I haven’t even seen you for a week!”

Not answering to her, he summoned a pile of black clothes. They were made of silk and
velvet. Bits of green ribbon sparkled in the dim light.

“You’ll wear these. And from now on, you’re not leaving my sight.”

“How can I dress myself if I’m handcuffed to a metal frame!?”

“Use magic. Or have you forgotten how to in all your plotting to kill me? I’ll be back in
a moment...be ready by then.”

*

Ten minutes later Hermione found herself sitting beside him, her right hand holding a plate
of wild strawberries and dark chocolate-coated almonds. Hermione kept having to bite her
tongue to keep from cursing every time she looked down and saw the black silk corset
laced together with serpent-green ribbon, and the long black velvet skirt. It made her look
like she really was part of this freak-show. The smell of dark rich chocolate made her head
swim, and the way Draco kept blowing kisses her way made her stomach turn. Draco
reached for another strawberry. He was about to place it in his mouth but paused. He held
it in front of Hermione’s lips. She refused to acknowledge him, keeping her lips firmly
pressed shut.

“Oh come on. Cheer up. It could be worse you know. I could have chained you to that
fruit-cake Pansy. Now come on.” He waved the strawberry in front of her, so she could
smell its wild fruity scent. Hermione turned her face away briskly, her hair whipping
about her.

“Tut-tut.” Draco scolded, pulling on her chain so that the metal cut into her wrist. Not
willing to see the extent he would go to, Hermione turned back towards him.

“That’s better.” Draco smiled at her, before trailing feathery butterfly kisses along her neck.
Hermione felt the world tip beneath her feet, the room and all its blackness swirl. She bit
down hard on her lip as he swept her hair back over her shoulder and kissed the smooth
line of her jaw. So hard in fact, that she drew blood. As the coppery taste filled her mouth,
Hermione felt Draco’s lips of velvet ice upon her own. He kissed her, his mist blonde
strands of hair falling over her face.

“I, uh...” Hermione began. But she was quickly cut off by another of Draco’s chocolaty
kisses. After a few moments, she pulled away.

“I should go now.”

Draco ran a pale finger up her arm and then on to the chain.

“How? You’re kind of attached to a heavy metal frame-work in case you didn’t notice.
But-” He continued, noticing her alarm. “If you’re good...I’ll...” He leaned in again, his
breath tickling her ear. “I’ll let you go.”

With a satisfying click, Hermione heard the sound of her freedom from the chains.
Rubbing her sore wrists, she looked up at him.

“Thank you...Draco.”

“Do not address me so informally.” He narrowed his eyes. “I may have given you the
liberty of being free from these damn chains. But do not tempt me to take further action
to make sure you behave in the proper fashion.” He snapped.

“Of course Lordship.” She dropped to her knees and bowed.

“Look at me.”

From her kneeling position, Hermione dared to look up at him through lowered eyelids.

“Would you like something to drink...Hermione?” He seemed to struggle with the words,
almost as if he was weighed down with guilt at the things he had done to her. He slowly
reached out a hand to her. Hermione nodded slightly as she cautiously took his hand,
afraid that at any moment Draco might burst into wild song or smash a few more windows
or slash her with a metal object. But he did none of these things. Instead, he calmly called
out to a house elf to bring them drinks. After a little house elf appeared with a jug and two
goblets, Draco poured her a drink, never taking his eyes off her. Hermione accepted the
drink and looked at it. What she saw made her slightly queasy.

“Is this um...blood?” She caught sight of her own startled reflection in the dark red liquid.

Draco laughed loudly. “It’s nectar syrup you ninny. Just because I’m the Dark Lord doesn’t
mean I go around drinking blood. Ugh, I’ll leave that one to the vampires thank you very
much.”

“You...you scare me.” Hermione admitted, lowering her eyes to the floor.

Draco’s hand lashed out and grasped her wrist.

“Oh...how so?”

Hermione laughed nervously.

“You’re the um...Dark Lord.” She said, stressing on how obvious it was.

“Does this scare you?” He gently kissed her.

“No...” Hermione pulled away and looked at him. “Why...” Her incomplete question hung in
the air. Enchanted stars like sugar drops sparkled in the dim light of the room. Draco felt his
eyes misting with the familiar feel of warm tears. Draco hastily wiped at his eyes. For a dragon
must not cry, especially a dragon with eyes of stone. Hermione however, felt a lump in her
throat as she saw this. Her heart twisted in way of several different emotions. This was the
man who had taken thousands of lives. She didn’t even know if her friends were dead or not.
This man was keeping her here as his prisoner, to serve, honour and obey, much like an
animal. This man was a mystery, shrouded is a mist filled with hate and love and good and
bad. She’d thought she’d known him in school. Draco Malfoy; annoying, pompous, spoiled,
rude, uncouth and bad to the very core.

But standing before him, she saw a tortured soul, a broken down boy, lost in his own
bitterness.

Instinctively, Hermione put her cup down and took his hand in her’s. Draco jerked his hand
away, a pink blush tinging his pale cheeks.

“I don’t need your sympathy...mudblood. ”

“But maybe I need yours...Draco.” And with that she turned and ran out of the room, leaving
behind a completely confounded Draco.
 
 
 

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Chapter 9