Half-Past the Point of No Return [PG-13] for Our Pinch Hitters
The original recipient of this gift is no longer participating, but the author has kindly offered to dedicate their story to everyone who has pinch hit for us this round as a special thank you for their efforts.
Title: Half-Past the Point of No Return
Author: Ivory88s
Rating: PG-13
Recipient: Our Pinch Hitters
Disclaimer: Nothing recognizable is mine, I only play in the sandbox. Even the title of this piece is a lyric of a Pink song (which is wonderful and comes highly recommended).
Warning(s): EWE, suggested character death
Author Note(s): Thank you, thank you to my lovely sister for being a wonderful beta. Any remaining mistakes are mine from tinkering after she gave it back. *muah!*
Summary: “Hermione Granger was a living, breathing ‘fuck you’ to everything Draco Malfoy had ever held dear”
Hermione Granger was a living, breathing ‘fuck you’ to everything Draco Malfoy had ever held dear. When his life turned into a living hell and he only had the values behind his actions, she was in his face, reminding him that he might be wrong.
He hated her for that.
Sure, he hated Potter and Weasley, but they were nothing but poster boys held on a never-earned pedestal. She was the embodiment of what rallied everyone together after the Dark Lord fell. She was the Muggle-born heroine everyone looked to, the bright guiding light for the rebuilding of the wizarding world.
That’s why she, not Potter or Weasley, would be the target of his father’s way to the top. Not a crazy, half-witted revenge plot based on an accident with an infant mixed with a prophesy from the mouth of a crazy witch. No, no. A well-planned and executed luring of her to their side.
For these values that he held onto, he would follow his father’s orders, imparted to him late one night after a meeting of trusted allies, complete with a little torture that made Draco’s insides roll.
“Befriend her. Get her to take you into her confidence. Use her, Draco.”
“Yes, father.”
“Dismissed.”
--
Draco believed in Pureblood supremacy. By nature alone, Mudbloods were lower than Purebloods. They were worthless in their magic, no better than squibs. Shouldn’t even be allowed a wand because they wouldn’t know the front end from the back.
Hermione Granger was the top of their class as they all graduated a year late.
He resented her for that.
The graduation ceremony was held on a beautiful Spring day. Draco looked out over the sea of bodies alive with the thrill of a reason to celebrate. Someone tapped him on the shoulder.
“Draco, there you are. McGonagall’s looking for you. You’ll be giving your speech right after mine.” Granger looked at him expectantly. He was finishing second to her. He swallowed his bitterness and thought again of his father’s orders.
“Sure, Granger, don’t get your knickers twisted. I’m just rehearsing it.” he said lightly as he fixed his face in what he hoped was closer to a smile than a grimace.
“Great!” she beamed, ridiculously cheerful. “I’ll see down on the lawn shortly.”
“Granger.” he said, thinking only of his father.
“Yeah?”
“Congratulations.” he ground out, the words leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He was sure he felt as surprised as she looked as she stared at him like he’d sprouted a second head.
“Um.. Thank you,” she said, looking around. “You sure you meant that for me?”
“What? Can’t I be civil? Start over after the war? Get to know you better and all that. Rebuilding.” he couldn’t even believe the words coming out of his mouth. His father had better be proud of him.
“Well, sure.. I guess.. “ she still looked skeptical. “I mean, I’ll try if you want to. We could meet up sometime for.. some tea or something.”
“Sure. That’d be nice.” he replied.
She smiled and was gone with a lift in her step. Left him alone on the steps outside the school as he felt the resentment settle in the very marrow of his bones. He thought of nothing but how proud his father better be as he clapped politely after her speech and gave his - full of hope and promises and being raised from ashes.
--
Draco believed that money could buy anything. His father had made his way in the wizarding world with some well-placed Galleons. He recovered swiftly from the war with money to charity. He ensured the press printed favorable articles of fraternizing with Potter, Weasley, and Granger.
Money bought his mother shopping trips in Paris while his father took in mistresses. Money bought Draco nice things when he caught his father screwing some bint in the parlor, so he wouldn’t tell his mother.
Money could buy anything.
Hermione Granger worked in a book shop in Diagon Alley following the war. She had two things that Draco could never buy; happiness and contentment.
He envied her for that.
“Why do you work in a book shop?” he asked one afternoon over some tea.
“Because I enjoy it.” she replied easily.
“Don’t you want to be an Auror with your buddies, take down all those remaining Death Eaters?”
“I do work for them on the side occasionally.” she said lightly. He took note. He didn’t know this. His father would want to know.
“Yeah, but this probably doesn’t pay much” he replied, waving to indicate the books around them.
She looked down at her cup, “Money doesn’t buy everything, you know.”
When she looked back up at him carefully, judging his reaction, he felt a little twinge. Covering it, he smiled easily.
“I know, I’m just saying you’re probably more than qualified for any job that pays much more than this.”
“Yeah, but it makes me happy. After all the chaos, I’m content with being in the stillness of the books. They don’t demand anything of me and they provide a refuge when life gets confusing or crazy.” she smiled softly.
“That must be nice.” he said.
He frowned to himself when he realized that he meant it.
--
Draco believed that emotions, loyalty, and hope were weakness. Emotions got in the way when making important decisions. His father beat all emotions except pride out of him at a young age. Loyalty was only good when someone else was loyal to you, he was taught. Loyalty to anyone else was weak and should be given in word only, and in deed only when necessary. When it benefitted you and never else. And hope. One should never have to do something as weak as hope when you’re a Malfoy. A Malfoy is secure in the knowledge that he can have whatever he wants. It might take a little plotting to get it, but in the long run, they always came out on top.
His mother saved Potter to save her family. His father helped the authorities round up Death Eaters - ones he knew would turn on him and vie for power, of course.
Hermione Granger was loyal to a fault. She loved, she cried, and she was a bright beacon of hope.
Draco needed her for that
Hermione ran into the shop five minutes past the time they were supposed to meet.
“I’m sorry I’m late, I can’t stay lo- are you ok?” she asked, switching gears immediately from rushed to worried. And it was directed at him, of all people. She should know better. He was disappointed in her for some reason.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he lied. “Just a long night with all the raids going on with this new wave of Death Eaters.” What he didn’t say was that his father was disappointed, his parents were breaking apart and his world was crashing down with this new wave of madness and evil.
She sighed, sinking into the chair for a moment.
“Yeah, I know what you mean. It’s been crazy at the Auror office. I’ve put myself on a leave of absence from the bookshop a few days ago. I told them I’d be back after this wave was put down.”
“How do you know?”
“Know what?”
“That you’ll be back? How can you know that?” he demanded. For some reason, he had to know.
“I don’t.”
“What?”
“I don’t, Draco. I just have to hope. Hope is the only thing that lasts through anything. I hope we’ll see the other side of this chaos like we did the last. I hope I’ll get to do my boring job that you say doesn’t pay enough. I hope that we’ll..” she paused, looking away.
“That we’ll what, Granger?” he asked, feeling his stomach drop to his feet and leap to his throat at the same time.
“Nothing. I have to go, I’m sorry.” she said, standing up again and heading to the door when he nodded but said nothing.
He sat at the table for an hour after she left. He knew she was both the destroyer and creator of his world. What he didn’t know was which she would be in the end.
--
Three days later..
Draco ran through the forest blindly. He could hear the noise of battles all around him but could see none. He knew he had to find her, find hope. He knew he only had a short time before others on his father’s side caught up with him. He ran.
He crashed into a small clearing seconds before she did. He saw her and nearly collapsed with relief. She had a bleeding gash over her right eye, but looked whole other than that. She was looking at him with confusion.
“Draco, what are you..” she trailed off, realization dawning. “No! No no no..” she mumbled, raising her wand at him. “Please tell me you’re not here for the reasons I think you are, Draco.”
“Listen, Granger, I..”
“Tell me!”
He was running out of time. He could hear them approaching from one side, they were circling each other in the clearing and he had no idea which direction he had come from.
“Granger, I hope.”
“What?”
“I hope! What you said in the coffee shop! I hope that we’ll, whatever it is we’ll do after this is over.” he was nearly hysterical.
“Ok. I don’t understand.”
“Listen, my father’s people are coming but you showed me there’s another way. But I’ll have to stun you. Do you trust me?” the shouts were coming closer, from their left, he could tell. “I want to see what hope means. I want to see the other side of this.”
She looked at him seriously for a moment. She could hear the shouting approaching, as well. “Yes, I trust you.”
“Thank you.”
Suddenly, she raised her voice. “Malfoy? How could you? I trusted you! STUPE-“
“Reproba Nex!” he called softly so whoever was approaching couldn’t hear. It was a self-preservation spell his father had taught him. It shot out an emerald blast like the Avada, but it was a false death - a twenty-minute stun.
Just in time, five people burst out of the trees at his left. He turned, trying to hide his panic with a smug look.
“I told you I cou-“ he froze as he recognized Potter, Weasley, and three others he didn’t recognize.
The next thing he knew, Weasley was running, people were yelling and all he heard was Potter yelling -
“You bastard! SECTUMSEMPRA!”
Draco collapsed, as chaos ensued and the only thing in his mind was Granger’s voice.
”.. a refuge when life gets confusing..”
“.. hope is the only thing that lasts..”
“.. trust..”
Hermione Granger was a beacon of hope in his life.
And all he could think about before his world went black, was how the know-it-all had finally been wrong.
Nothing lasts.
Nothing.
ferretbush_post is the account the mods use to post the gifts. It has not created any of the gifts.
Title: Half-Past the Point of No Return
Author: Ivory88s
Rating: PG-13
Recipient: Our Pinch Hitters
Disclaimer: Nothing recognizable is mine, I only play in the sandbox. Even the title of this piece is a lyric of a Pink song (which is wonderful and comes highly recommended).
Warning(s): EWE, suggested character death
Author Note(s): Thank you, thank you to my lovely sister for being a wonderful beta. Any remaining mistakes are mine from tinkering after she gave it back. *muah!*
Summary: “Hermione Granger was a living, breathing ‘fuck you’ to everything Draco Malfoy had ever held dear”
Hermione Granger was a living, breathing ‘fuck you’ to everything Draco Malfoy had ever held dear. When his life turned into a living hell and he only had the values behind his actions, she was in his face, reminding him that he might be wrong.
He hated her for that.
Sure, he hated Potter and Weasley, but they were nothing but poster boys held on a never-earned pedestal. She was the embodiment of what rallied everyone together after the Dark Lord fell. She was the Muggle-born heroine everyone looked to, the bright guiding light for the rebuilding of the wizarding world.
That’s why she, not Potter or Weasley, would be the target of his father’s way to the top. Not a crazy, half-witted revenge plot based on an accident with an infant mixed with a prophesy from the mouth of a crazy witch. No, no. A well-planned and executed luring of her to their side.
For these values that he held onto, he would follow his father’s orders, imparted to him late one night after a meeting of trusted allies, complete with a little torture that made Draco’s insides roll.
“Befriend her. Get her to take you into her confidence. Use her, Draco.”
“Yes, father.”
“Dismissed.”
--
Draco believed in Pureblood supremacy. By nature alone, Mudbloods were lower than Purebloods. They were worthless in their magic, no better than squibs. Shouldn’t even be allowed a wand because they wouldn’t know the front end from the back.
Hermione Granger was the top of their class as they all graduated a year late.
He resented her for that.
The graduation ceremony was held on a beautiful Spring day. Draco looked out over the sea of bodies alive with the thrill of a reason to celebrate. Someone tapped him on the shoulder.
“Draco, there you are. McGonagall’s looking for you. You’ll be giving your speech right after mine.” Granger looked at him expectantly. He was finishing second to her. He swallowed his bitterness and thought again of his father’s orders.
“Sure, Granger, don’t get your knickers twisted. I’m just rehearsing it.” he said lightly as he fixed his face in what he hoped was closer to a smile than a grimace.
“Great!” she beamed, ridiculously cheerful. “I’ll see down on the lawn shortly.”
“Granger.” he said, thinking only of his father.
“Yeah?”
“Congratulations.” he ground out, the words leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He was sure he felt as surprised as she looked as she stared at him like he’d sprouted a second head.
“Um.. Thank you,” she said, looking around. “You sure you meant that for me?”
“What? Can’t I be civil? Start over after the war? Get to know you better and all that. Rebuilding.” he couldn’t even believe the words coming out of his mouth. His father had better be proud of him.
“Well, sure.. I guess.. “ she still looked skeptical. “I mean, I’ll try if you want to. We could meet up sometime for.. some tea or something.”
“Sure. That’d be nice.” he replied.
She smiled and was gone with a lift in her step. Left him alone on the steps outside the school as he felt the resentment settle in the very marrow of his bones. He thought of nothing but how proud his father better be as he clapped politely after her speech and gave his - full of hope and promises and being raised from ashes.
--
Draco believed that money could buy anything. His father had made his way in the wizarding world with some well-placed Galleons. He recovered swiftly from the war with money to charity. He ensured the press printed favorable articles of fraternizing with Potter, Weasley, and Granger.
Money bought his mother shopping trips in Paris while his father took in mistresses. Money bought Draco nice things when he caught his father screwing some bint in the parlor, so he wouldn’t tell his mother.
Money could buy anything.
Hermione Granger worked in a book shop in Diagon Alley following the war. She had two things that Draco could never buy; happiness and contentment.
He envied her for that.
“Why do you work in a book shop?” he asked one afternoon over some tea.
“Because I enjoy it.” she replied easily.
“Don’t you want to be an Auror with your buddies, take down all those remaining Death Eaters?”
“I do work for them on the side occasionally.” she said lightly. He took note. He didn’t know this. His father would want to know.
“Yeah, but this probably doesn’t pay much” he replied, waving to indicate the books around them.
She looked down at her cup, “Money doesn’t buy everything, you know.”
When she looked back up at him carefully, judging his reaction, he felt a little twinge. Covering it, he smiled easily.
“I know, I’m just saying you’re probably more than qualified for any job that pays much more than this.”
“Yeah, but it makes me happy. After all the chaos, I’m content with being in the stillness of the books. They don’t demand anything of me and they provide a refuge when life gets confusing or crazy.” she smiled softly.
“That must be nice.” he said.
He frowned to himself when he realized that he meant it.
--
Draco believed that emotions, loyalty, and hope were weakness. Emotions got in the way when making important decisions. His father beat all emotions except pride out of him at a young age. Loyalty was only good when someone else was loyal to you, he was taught. Loyalty to anyone else was weak and should be given in word only, and in deed only when necessary. When it benefitted you and never else. And hope. One should never have to do something as weak as hope when you’re a Malfoy. A Malfoy is secure in the knowledge that he can have whatever he wants. It might take a little plotting to get it, but in the long run, they always came out on top.
His mother saved Potter to save her family. His father helped the authorities round up Death Eaters - ones he knew would turn on him and vie for power, of course.
Hermione Granger was loyal to a fault. She loved, she cried, and she was a bright beacon of hope.
Draco needed her for that
Hermione ran into the shop five minutes past the time they were supposed to meet.
“I’m sorry I’m late, I can’t stay lo- are you ok?” she asked, switching gears immediately from rushed to worried. And it was directed at him, of all people. She should know better. He was disappointed in her for some reason.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he lied. “Just a long night with all the raids going on with this new wave of Death Eaters.” What he didn’t say was that his father was disappointed, his parents were breaking apart and his world was crashing down with this new wave of madness and evil.
She sighed, sinking into the chair for a moment.
“Yeah, I know what you mean. It’s been crazy at the Auror office. I’ve put myself on a leave of absence from the bookshop a few days ago. I told them I’d be back after this wave was put down.”
“How do you know?”
“Know what?”
“That you’ll be back? How can you know that?” he demanded. For some reason, he had to know.
“I don’t.”
“What?”
“I don’t, Draco. I just have to hope. Hope is the only thing that lasts through anything. I hope we’ll see the other side of this chaos like we did the last. I hope I’ll get to do my boring job that you say doesn’t pay enough. I hope that we’ll..” she paused, looking away.
“That we’ll what, Granger?” he asked, feeling his stomach drop to his feet and leap to his throat at the same time.
“Nothing. I have to go, I’m sorry.” she said, standing up again and heading to the door when he nodded but said nothing.
He sat at the table for an hour after she left. He knew she was both the destroyer and creator of his world. What he didn’t know was which she would be in the end.
--
Three days later..
Draco ran through the forest blindly. He could hear the noise of battles all around him but could see none. He knew he had to find her, find hope. He knew he only had a short time before others on his father’s side caught up with him. He ran.
He crashed into a small clearing seconds before she did. He saw her and nearly collapsed with relief. She had a bleeding gash over her right eye, but looked whole other than that. She was looking at him with confusion.
“Draco, what are you..” she trailed off, realization dawning. “No! No no no..” she mumbled, raising her wand at him. “Please tell me you’re not here for the reasons I think you are, Draco.”
“Listen, Granger, I..”
“Tell me!”
He was running out of time. He could hear them approaching from one side, they were circling each other in the clearing and he had no idea which direction he had come from.
“Granger, I hope.”
“What?”
“I hope! What you said in the coffee shop! I hope that we’ll, whatever it is we’ll do after this is over.” he was nearly hysterical.
“Ok. I don’t understand.”
“Listen, my father’s people are coming but you showed me there’s another way. But I’ll have to stun you. Do you trust me?” the shouts were coming closer, from their left, he could tell. “I want to see what hope means. I want to see the other side of this.”
She looked at him seriously for a moment. She could hear the shouting approaching, as well. “Yes, I trust you.”
“Thank you.”
Suddenly, she raised her voice. “Malfoy? How could you? I trusted you! STUPE-“
“Reproba Nex!” he called softly so whoever was approaching couldn’t hear. It was a self-preservation spell his father had taught him. It shot out an emerald blast like the Avada, but it was a false death - a twenty-minute stun.
Just in time, five people burst out of the trees at his left. He turned, trying to hide his panic with a smug look.
“I told you I cou-“ he froze as he recognized Potter, Weasley, and three others he didn’t recognize.
The next thing he knew, Weasley was running, people were yelling and all he heard was Potter yelling -
“You bastard! SECTUMSEMPRA!”
Draco collapsed, as chaos ensued and the only thing in his mind was Granger’s voice.
”.. a refuge when life gets confusing..”
“.. hope is the only thing that lasts..”
“.. trust..”
Hermione Granger was a beacon of hope in his life.
And all he could think about before his world went black, was how the know-it-all had finally been wrong.
Nothing lasts.
Nothing.
ferretbush_post is the account the mods use to post the gifts. It has not created any of the gifts.