Paths of Fire

[Fanfiction: Draco/Hermione] Dark

athiela — Tue, 27 Jun 2006 21:32:41 GMT

Title: Dark
Rating: PG
Word Count: No ideq
Warnings: None
Summary: Soon, she would be able to stay in the dark.

It's dark, and she is alone. She doesn't mind being alone in the dark, unlike most people. She finds it soothing. She finds it an escape from the life which she is forced to lead, a life that she has no place in.

For although she stands in the light, her soul hides in the shadows. By day she plays her part, an actress on a stage before the entire world. She fights for life, although she knows that there will be no life for her when this war is over. She will die, of that she is certain. She does not believe in Divination, but she knows that when the red sun rises, she will not be there to see it. Still, she plays her part. She is so talented that no-one has yet managed to figure out her secret.

No-one except him. He saw her soul, saw what she was hiding from those who love her. Strange, how the one person who could see her for what she was, what she truly felt, was someone who hated her. Yet she was grateful for it, in some small way. She knew that the stolen moments that she had with him allowed her to continue to hold her façade. To continue to fight, although she didn't see the point in it.

She an hear him coming to her now. A sigh escapes her lips as his arms slip around her waist. She knows that when she is gone, he will continue. Ironic, that one who has been marked for death since the day he was born will live, when she will die. Dark and light, their souls are opposite, reflections of a pool that goes so deep that she cannot see the bottom.

His golden hair catches the rays of dawn, his nose buried in her chestnut curls. Yes, there is release here. Solace. Peace.

An orange sun rises, and she knows that her days are limited. Yesterday the sun was yellow. Her time has come.

Soon she'll be able to stay in the dark.

[Fanfiction: Draco/Hermione] Nemo - Chapter 1

athiela — Thu, 16 Mar 2006 13:07:27 GMT

Title: Nemo (1/9)
Rating: R
Word Count: 893
Warnings: Not much in this chapter, but in later chapters expect sex, character death, bitchy!Hermione, and evil!Draco.
Summary: Touch me with your love, and reveal to me my true name. Once and for all, and all for once, Nemo my name for ever more.

A/N: Based on the song Nemo, by Nightwish. Will be 9 parts total, and I'm bloody slow at updating. Sorry.

Curled up on the window seat in her favourite corner of the library, Hermione silently stared out over the expanse of the Hogwarts grounds. She found it soothing, to be able to have some time to herself. All of the other girls in her dormitory had gone home for Christmas. She no longer had a home to go to, as Death Eaters had killed her family during the summer holidays following the battle at the Ministry of Magic. Although Ron had invited her back to the Burrow for the week, and as much as she loved the Weasley family, currently what she needed was just to spend some time by herself. It was her first Christmas without her family, and she didn’t want to have to smile, and pretend to be enjoying herself in the company of her friends.

Pretend as she had been for the past six months.

Inside, Hermione felt dead. Her family meant everything to her. Aside from Harry and Ron, they were the only people in the world who loved her. And they were most certainly the only people in the world, Ron and Harry included this time, who understood her. She could talk to her Mum about all the girly stuff she could never talk about with Harry or Ron, who would just scoff and tell her she was being stupid. Harry and Ron, who, although they did love her, would never see her as anything more than ‘one of the guys’. With her Mum she could do facials, go and get her hair done, or sit and watch the muggle movie “Love Actually”, and perve on Roderigo Santoras for hours, or laugh at Hugh Grants dancing skills, whilst at the same time admiring his bum during his victory dance. Or snicker at Colin Firth’s attempts at speaking any language other than English. With her Dad, she could discuss poetry and books. He nurtured her intellectual side, possibly the only person on the planet who could keep up with her mentally. And he loved to hear about the things she learnt in school, about the theory of Arithmancy, or the translations and meanings of Ancient Runes. In this way, she managed to combine both the wizarding and muggle worlds. Whenever she was with her parents, she truly felt like she was home, no matter where they were.

And now she was alone. Letting a single tear slide down her cheek, which was rapidly followed by several more, she continued to stare out across the grounds, enveloped in her misery.

This is me for forever
One of the lost ones
The one without a name

*******

Walking down the corridors that led from the Slytherin common room to the library, Draco Malfoy sighed. He was spending Christmas at Hogwarts because his father was still locked in Azkaban, and his mother was too busy trying to secure his release to give Draco the Christmas he deserved, or so she claimed. Secretly Draco thought that it was because she was unable to cope with the disgrace to the family name, and as such was trying to avoid him. It was, of course, his fault that his father had gotten caught, as he had allowed the Mudblood Granger and her little friends to escape from him.

Fucking Granger. Merlin, he thought as he continued his journey. Could a witch be more annoying? With her bushy hair, and know it all attitude. She pissed him off more than any other witch or wizard in Hogwarts. Something niggled in the back of his mind when he thought about her, but he refused to give it any thought, dismissing her as his inferior. Even though, at some level, her knew that she wasn’t.

Pushing the Mudblood from his mind, his thoughts returned to his father. He felt absolutely lost without his father by his side. His whole life, his father had been by his side, guiding him, telling him what to do. It was at his insistence that Draco had joined the Death Eaters during the summer vacation, taking his father’s vacant place by the Dark Lord’s side. Of course, he didn’t wear the Dark Mark yet, as it would not do to have that decrepit old fool Dumbledore knowing that there was one capable of killing within the school, but still, he was pleased that he could make his father proud in this way. Losing his father, even if it was only temporarily, was a blow that Draco had not expected. And it hurt like all fuck. Without his father, he was nothing. He was lost, floating in a sea of despair and hopelessness.

Not that he’d ever admit it of course.

This is me for forever
One of the lost ones
The one without a name

Rounding a corner into the library, he was startled to hear a discreet sound that sounded like someone… crying. Curious as to who it was, knowing that most students had gone home for the holidays, he went in search of the noise, hoping he would have an opportunity to berate one of the younger students. Circe knows he needed someone to take his frustrations out on.

Tracking the crying to a window seat in the furthest corner of the library, he was surprised when he recognised the witch he’d least likely imagined it to be.

“Granger.”

[Fanfiction: Draco/Hermione] Fallen Angel

athiela — Thu, 16 Mar 2006 12:47:15 GMT

Title: Fallen Angel
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 451
Warnings: Character Death , Sexual References
Summary: She belonged to him. But today, she had won.
Companion Piece: Concrete Angel

He stands outside on his balcony, smoking a cigar, and contemplates the girl lying crumpled twenty four stories below. His pet, captured during the Final Battle. Although the side of "light" had won, he had still managed to escape, taking her with him. Most believe that they are both dead, obliterated by their opposing sides. None can find him here. Under Imperio, he had forced her to become his secret-keeper for the Fidellius Charm. And now, she belonged to him.

Looking at her, he scowls. He does not like using the Imperius Curse on her. He likes her passion, likes her trying to fight. It isn't out of love. Love is a word that is completely foreign to him. It's hate and lust that drive him. Whenever he uses her, chains her, tortures her, he likes her to know what's going on. Wants her to know that he's the one who is slowly breaking her. He wants her to cry.

Because it isn't worth it if she can't cry.

Over the past six months, she's cried a lot. For the first six months, he didn't ever see her shed a tear. Not when he tortured her endlessly for days on end. Not when he left in a dark room for a week, wearing absolutely nothing. Not even when he told her that Harry had died after defeating Voldemort, trying to save her from him. But the first time he took her, made her his, made her scream his name in pleasure... then she cried.

It was the most satisfying moment of his entire life. Because he'd broken her. Because, even if Voldemort had been defeated, and his family had lost everything, he had still won. For the first time in his life, he'd beaten Hermione Granger.

Today, though, she had won. She'd stepped off that balcony, made her final journey towards the concrete. He'd forgotten to renew the wards on this balcony the last time he had taken her out here. He cursed his own stupidity, as he looked at her body below. He could see nothing to mar her delicate features, and the smile on her face showed that in death, she had finally found what she had never had in life.

Peace.

She looked like an angel lying there. His concrete angel. And he wondered what that made him. A devil perhaps? No, that word was too strong for him. Fallen perhaps. Fallen for her, even if not for the right reasons. Because he still wanted her. She aroused his passion like none had done before, and like none would ever do again. She was still his. Just as he knew, he would always be hers. Her fallen angel.

[Fanfiction: Draco/Hermione] What You Mean to Me

athiela — Thu, 16 Mar 2006 12:36:08 GMT

Title: What You Mean to Me
Rating: G
Word Count: 499
Warnings: Character Death
Summary: Finally, he can tell her what she has always meant to him.

I've wanted to tell you this so many times. I never got the opportunity before to say this to you, and you never knew. I'm sorry for this now, but I know that where ever you are, you'll hear me, and you'll understand.

You always were understanding. Those idiot friends put you through so much, dragging you on all of their little adventures. But still you loved them. Even when they neglected to think of you for the Yule Ball, you still understood that to them, you were just their best friend. But I saw you. In your robes, you took my breath away. Of course, I never admitted it, as it would have been a betrayal of my house, but still. You were radiant that day. Triumphant, managing to show the whole school what I already knew - that you were the most beautiful witch at Hogwarts.

More than your beauty though, I was entranced by your passion. Most people thought that you were just a bookworm, concerned only with your studies. But I knew better than that. Yes, you cared about your work. But to you, it was a passion, something that you could escape from the world in. I know, because I escape in the same way. Books don't judge you, they don't care if you're a Pureblood or Muggleborn. Your silly campaign to free the house-elves showed how passionate you were about helping those less fortunate than yourself. But the time you really let your self go was when you fought with me. I'd deliberately think up ways to anger you, to see that passion enter your eyes. Even though you hated me, it was something. For those few stolen moments, it was just the two of us. And I'll treasure that forever.

I'll never forget the day that that passion went out of your eyes. During the final battle, when you saw Neville die at the hands of Bella, something in you snapped, and the light went out. And now that light is gone permenantly, and all I'm left with is the memory of who you were. And who you were was the most extraordinary person I've ever met.

I'm going to leave this letter on your grave. Even though Voldemort won the war (and I know that you're up there somewhere with Ron plotting revenge), and the house of Malfoy is once again victorious, I feel like I lost, because I lost you. You are truly amazing, and I know that your memory will live on, in the hearts of those you gave your life for. In my heart, because for the past seven years, you're what has made me keep going, keep fighting. And I will. I'll fight for you, Hermione. And in doing so, I hope that you'll be able to forgive me, because now that you're gone, I don't think that I'll be able to forgive myself.

But I will always love you. I hope that you know that.

Draco.

[Soundtrack: Draco/Hermione] Feeling Jaded

athiela — Thu, 16 Mar 2006 12:24:57 GMT

Title: Feeling Jaded
Number of Tracks: 16
Soundtrack Length: Buggered if I can remember.
Theme: None in particular. Just a collection of songs that I think relate to the Draco/Hermione relationship.

Download music & cover

1. Hootie and the Blowfish - Innocence
2. Alex Parks - Dirty Pretty Words
3. Sarah McLachlan - Sweet Surrender
4. Counting Crows - Accidentally in Love
5. Dana Glover - It is You (I Have Loved)
6. Mandy Moore - Someday We'll Know
7. Joan Armatrading - Weakness in Me
8. Three Days Grace - I Hate Everything About You
9. Enrique Iglesias - Not in Love
10. Hamish Cowan - With or Without You
11. Live - They Stood Up For Love
12. Azure Ray - Hold on Love
13. Dido - White Flag
14. Belinda Carlisle - Summer Rain
15. Hoobastank - The Reason
16. Stone Sour - Bother

[Fanfiction: Draco/Hermione] With Her Words

athiela — Thu, 16 Mar 2006 01:44:37 GMT

Title: With Her Words
Rating: PG
Word Count: 404
Summary: With her words, she managed so much

I sit here and watch her cry, and wonder if she realises that she shouldn’t. She has no right to cry over me. Do you ever have the right to cry over someone that you murdered?

I can’t bring myself to hate her though. I’m empty now, devoid of emotion. There is no more pain where I am now, no hate… no love. No anything. Just peace. And at the moment, peace is enough. Hell, peace is the one thing that I’ve been craving ever since I met her.

She captured me with her words. The intelligence that everyone would acknowledge, but that none would love. I loved her from the minute that I saw her. Looking at me, as if I was nothing to her. As if I was nothing in general. My name commands respect. Malfoy. My family is royalty among our kind, and yet she didn’t care.

She enraptured me with her words. She never seemed to be bothered by mine though. Not in all the times that I insulted her, called her a mudblood, pretended that I hated her. I had to hate her - she was everything that my family had always taught me was dirty and disgusting. Yet I couldn’t help but love her, in my own twisted way. I think that she knew.

She loved me with her words. When I finally managed to convince her that she was beautiful to me. That I loved her. That I had never wanted anything more than to be with her. When I told her that I hated my father, hated what he stood for her.

She scorned me with her words. When she saw the Dark Mark on my arm two weeks before graduation, when the Dark Lord called to me. She hated me then, and believed that I had betrayed her. And so I had. I may have hated what my father stood for, but the Dark Lord was not what he stood for. He stood for ignorance, and stupidy. She screamed at me, and went running off to Potty. Even though I loved her, I still believed that she was less than perfect. Less than pure. Less than me.

A week after graduation, the final battle occurred. I stood face to face with her, and saw the pain in her eyes as she levelled her wand at me.

She killed me with her words.

[Fanfiction: Draco/Hermione] Just a Face in the Crowd

athiela — Thu, 16 Mar 2006 01:41:24 GMT

Title: Just a Face in the Crowd
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 1,308
Warnings: Character Death, and just a little romance (but still no happy ending)
Summary: Living in the present can be painful, when letters take you back to a time of peace and happiness
Author's Notes: I orginally wrote this story for a writing competition at UNE, being between a mother and son (who were Australian, as am I), where it won 3rd place. I decided to rework it this morning, as I thought it would be perfect for a Draco/Hermione Fic set in the midst of the War, when it's spread beyond England.

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she blinked disbelievingly at the piece of paper in her hand. The shock of receiving the letter which she had dreaded with a wifes fear every day was etched into her face, her pain evident to all who would look upon her.
“We regret to inform you…”
Those five little words that any woman with someone she loved at the front hoped never to read, and yet expected throughout every minute of the day. Five little words… they could destroy worlds.

Opening a drawer on her dresser, she withdrew the letters which she had received throughout the past six months. A dozen or so pieces of paper, all she had left of her husband. Holding the letters to her chest, she could see his face. His beautiful face, now lost to her until she met him again in the world beyond this one. He had been only 23 years old when he had heard the music of the piper. The music that had taken him and thousands like him to fight a war that they had no place in, against people they did not know, and in cities they had never heard of. Had caused him to rebel against his father, and trust in the light.
However, it was not the face of the man who had walked onto the ship that she saw. She saw the face of a young boy, who had called her a mudblood all those years ago. Arrogant and extremely self-assured, yet she could see the fear and uncertainty beneath his mask. Unknowing of the fate that was closing on him with every breath.

He had been special. The Slytherin Prince, raised from birth to follow in his father's footsteps and to become a Death Eater. The best in his House, Seeker, skillfull in Potions. He had excelled in everything he did, no matter what it was. And now… Now he was just another young man who had given everything to the cause that he loved.
She decided to read the letters one more time. Perhaps they would offer her some cold comfort against the hollow ache that had slowly grown into her soul, until it threatened to consume her.
They did.
In reading the first letter, she could almost believe that her husband still lived. She could feel close to the man that was now so far away.

*

My dearest 'Mione,
It is with great joy that I am able to write to you on this beautiful day. We have landed safely in France, although I must confess that there were some anxious times during the journey. Damn Death Eaters. They did us no lasting harm though, God be praised.
Training in Egypt went quite well. It was a world apart from that of home.The pyramids, and all of the sand! Not even Hagrid's Hut could hold so much sand, for all that he might try. There were a lot of interesting things to see and do, and such interesting souvenirs! I did buy you a present, for Christmas. You shall have to wait until I get home to have it though - I want to see the look on your beautiful face when I get it to you.
The other fellows here are capital chaps. Most of them are from Beauxbatons or Durmstrang. It has become apparent that I am the only Hogwarts graduate in my battalion, and as such I have all ready been nicknamed. The chaps have decided to call me ‘Lion’, for apparently we Hogwarts fellows are the bravest out there! What would dear old daddy say is he heard of myself being aligned with the symbol of Gryffindor? Probably not as much as he said when I married one, but still... It is all in good fun though, so I do not mind.
I must go now, my love. We are about to start a game of Quidditch, and I have been chosen to play seeker for the Kappas.
With all the love in my heart,
Your Draco.

*

So happy, so full of life. Even in the face of danger, the smarmy bastard could enjoy a game of Quidditch and tease her. As she lowered the letter, the image of him in her mind changed. He was no longer the little boy she remembered with amusement. She now saw him as he walked away from her for the last time, 6 months ago. She had been forced to stay at home in Hogsmeade, where she would be protected, as she was two months pregnant with their child. She heard his words, echoing in her ears through the passage of time, yet so clear that he could have been standing next to her. A breathless snog, a warm embrace, and a cheerful “See you at Christmas”. His last words to her.
She forced her tears back. She wanted to read the next letter. To comfort herself. To save herself.

*

Ma chère 'Mione,
My French has improved greatly since we arrived. My battalion have now been sent into active battle against the giants, in the mountains of France. It has not stopped raining for the past two weeks, but there are still good things about being here. We still get to play Quidditch occasionally. We had a game on Christmas Day, and honestly 'Mione, it was one of the best days of my life (except maybe the day I married you). All of the blokes say that I am an exceptional player - they have given me the honour of captaining the squad. I never have been able to be ordinary, have I?…

*

Never ordinary. She could imagine the characteristic smirk on his face when he wrote that. That was the way that most people described her husband. Exceptional at everything he did. Stunning at school. A wry sense of humour that, when he chose to show it, made everyone he met fall in love with him. He was handsome, too, and she still couldn't understand why he had chosen her. But he had, and he'd made her the happiest she'd ever been.

She continued to read, and eventually reached the last letter. The tears began to slowly form behind her eyes again. This was the letter that had broken her heart. She had received it only a few days before his beautiful spirit had been taken away from her - and yet when she had first read this letter, it seemed as if a part of him had already died.

*

Dear Hermione,
This place is just so disconcerting. All of the light has gone out of the world, 'Mione. This place is just so dark. Nothing makes any sense anymore. Mindless killing, such pointless pain.
We are preparing to go into the final battle next week. Dumbledore and Potty bark orders at everyone, and treat everyone horribly. No-one is special anymore.
I see it now so clearly. To think that I was ever extraordinary was laughable. At the end of the day, when the sun goes down, I am exactly the same as every other wizard and muggle here.
Just a face in the crowd.

*

Just a face in the crowd. Her beautiful husband, so precious, so special to her. He had been the light of her life for the past 5 years, and now… he was just a memory.

Controlling the pain inside of her, holding back the tears, she walked to the window. All throughout Hogsmeade, she could see the women who had been left behind. Women with faces that had to be masks. Silently hiding the pain that they would bare for the rest of their lives.
Looking at these women, seeing a mirror of her own feelings, a realisation came to her. She, too, was just a face in the crowd.

[Fanfiction: Draco/Hermione] Concrete Angel

athiela — Thu, 16 Mar 2006 01:34:57 GMT

Title: Concrete Angel
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 428 words
Warnings: Character death, sexual references.
Summary: Her final journey towards freedom.

Despair. Devoid of any feeling but loss and pain, she cries. Her world is darkness, and in the darkness she loses herself completely. It is her only refuge, her only escape. He can’t find her in the darkness, in the place she has created for herself. No-one can find her there. All she has are her memories. Happy memories, turned to painful. Loving memories, turned to hate.

She remembers. The same thoughts, everyday. When he leaves her, she sinks as far into her mind as possible. He never allows her to sink when he is with her. That would be betrayal, he tells her. She remembers when she was happy, when she was free. When she was bossy know-it-all Hermione, with her hair as wild as her personality, her intellect rivalled by none. When she was bathed in the light, and knew nothing of shadows. Now she walks the path of shadows constantly. Her thoughts jump, to when it all ended. To when Harry died, and she was taken prisoner by him. She feels the pain, sharply, but this time she cannot cry. She’s beyond that now.

Draco. He insists she call him by his first name, even as he calls her his ‘Mudblood Whore’. Even when he fucks her into the mattress, when he’s making her come. He makes her come every time he uses her, makes her crave him like a drug. For like a drug he is, and every fibre of her being longs for him constantly. Bit by bit, he consumes her. Her soul is teetering precariously on the edge, the only part of her that has not completely succumbed to his presence. She’s close though, and she can’t allow him to take her like that. Hope is gone - she knows that she will never be rescued. The old world is dead, and the only person who can save her is herself.

Slowly she rises from the bed. He has not come to her today, but she knows he will. To break her, to make her his. To take her soul. She knows his ambitions, as clearly as if they were her own.

He won’t find her though. Not this time.

Walking out on to the balcony, she looks down at the 24 story drop. The wind caresses her hair as she climbs on to the railing, pausing momentarily to arrange her crimson dress. No blood would mar its beauty, he would not get the satisfaction of seeing her ruined.

She lightly steps off the railing. As she rushes towards the concrete below, she feels as if she is flying. At last, she is free. Arms reach out to embrace her, and she feels her flight slow. She sees Harry, Ron, her parents. Everyone she knew.

As her final journey ends, she feels the arms embrace her, and hears Harry’s voice in her ear.

“Welcome home, angel.”

Companion Piece: Fallen Angel

[Poetry: Original] Consuming Blackness

athiela — Thu, 16 Mar 2006 01:29:54 GMT

Title: Consuming Blackness
Style: Eclectic

Fire
It encases my heart
But now the flames begin to expire
And I am left with nothing.

Perhaps the consuming blackness of my pain
The fear that runs unchecked
It leaves icy trails through my veins
My soul trembling in its wake.

That something so big could come of something so small
It is only little, merely a speck
Yet somehow this speck is my downfal
And I fear for my very life.

For this little thing could cause my death
That is what kills the flames
That recede as I fear to take my last breath
But I am left with something.

I am left with the tumour.

[Fanfiction: Draco/Hermione] Broken Heart

athiela — Thu, 16 Mar 2006 01:26:09 GMT

Title: Broken Heart
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 560
Warnings: Character death, sexual references.
Summary: She still loves him, even when it comes to this....

So it had come down to this. The whole war, everything she had fought for her entire life. Now she had reached this moment. Standing side by side with Harry, Ron, and Dumbledore. Facing Voldemort, Lucius, Bella….. And him.

His mask had been ripped off in the preceding battle, and she could see the blonde hair, once so soft between her fingers. The grey eyes, cold now, their warmth faded over the past 2 years of murder, torture, rape and other various forms of inflicted pain. Although, to most, he had always had been cold. Only to her had he opened up, their many fights a prequel to the passion that they felt for each other. She could still remember it - stolen kisses, walks through the Forbidden Forest. No-one had known of their relationship. They had both wished it that way - neither wished to deal with the questions, the looks, the lack of understanding.

She wondered if he remembered. Remembered the nights of passion, the way his every touch could make her moan. The way his hair smelt like musk, feeling so good as it ran along her skin. The way he could make her smile, even when Snape had been a complete prat to her in Potions, despite her obvious talent for the subject. How he’d visit her in the hospital wing after the battle at the Ministry, stroking her hair and telling her that everything would be alright.

She wondered if he remembered loving her.

He had joined the Death Eaters following his completion of his OWL’s. She could see the Dark Mark on his skin now, and recalled the first time he had shown it to her. The same day that he told her that he no longer loved her. That was the first day that he had ever made her cry. All his years of calling her a Mudblood, telling her that she was worthless, a whore, less than human… none of that had managed to make her cry. Strange, that love could do what hate could not.

She had not begged him. Had not raged or cursed when he told her that it was over. He had to follow the path of his forefathers. He had to complete the work that he was born for. She had merely looked at him, as if someone had shot her. She wondered if he had felt any pain when breaking her heart. His eyes had been as cold, as cold as they were now. She had not been able to see any of what they had shared in his eyes.

And now it had come to this. Somehow the battle has accelerated around her while she had been lost in thought, her usually sharp mind missing the beginning seconds of the final act of war. She found herself face to face with him, he having just killed Ron. This fact barely registered to her as she looked into his eyes.

“Draco.”

Her last words, her wand hanging limply by her side as he aimed the fatal curse at her. In the flash of green light, she didn’t see the tears in his eyes as she slowly crumpled to the ground.

In the end, it had not been the war that had killed Hermione Granger. A war she could handle. Hermione had died of a broken heart.