Manacled (dramione)

Chapter 45: Flashback 20

December 2002

Draco quirked an eyebrow as he met her eyes.

"You stole my class ranking, which was worse. I'd been tutored at home, prepared my entire life for Hogwarts. My father had my life planned for me: top of my class, prefect, Quidditch captain, Head Boy, internship at the Ministry of Magic, and eventually a member of the Wizengamot and then Minister of Magic. The ministry career he lost due to his participation in the first Wizarding war; I was supposed to do it all. But then, first year of school and an inferior little Mudblood girl managed to exceed my marks in every class."

He reached out and laid his hand across her throat. Hermione's breath caught slightly, and he tightened his hold, just enough to draw her face closer to his.

Draco's eyes glittered, and his tone was almost light, as though he were daring her to flinch. "I have to admit, I really hoped you'd die during second year when the Chamber of Secrets was opened. I did actually earn my place on the Slytherin Quidditch team before my father bought brooms for the team, but thanks to your little comment the whole school assumed my father just bought my spot." As he spoke, he slid his thumb up her throat to her jaw and then pushed against the bone to force her head back.

He was trying to force her to flinch. Hermione kept meeting his eyes. They were darkening.

The room felt warmer.

He kept talking.

"It was easy to believe that Muggles and their spawn were responsible for the problems in the world. It certainly felt that way in my life. Between half-blood Potter, whose life was an endless stream of dumb-luck and favouritism, and you, and then the impoverished Weasleys being exhibit A for what happens to blood-traitors. There wasn't any reason not to believe the Wizarding world wouldn't be a better place without you and your ilk."

"I didn't realise you thought about me that much," Hermione said.

She could feel heat slowly radiating through her body, spreading outward from his hand, but also between her shoulders, across her skin and unfurling somewhere in her lower abdomen. She shivered faintly as she kept meeting his eyes.

His mouth twitched. "My hatred of you paled in comparison to my rivalry with Potter. You were an irritant. Despite your grades at least you were ugly, socially awkward and obviously insecure." His lips curled into a faint smirk. "Beating me academically wouldn't have mattered if you hadn't been friends with Potter. He dragged you into the spotlight and needed you enough that he couldn't deny it. If Potter hadn't mattered, you wouldn't have either."

Hermione felt something in her stomach suddenly drop, thinking back to the initial suspicion she'd had; that demanding her was some kind of revenge or retaliation against Harry. She'd almost forgotten about that fear.

He smiled and leaned forward so that he was looming over her as he continued to hold her by the throat and stare down at her face. Their bodies were almost touching, and she felt a renewed awareness of how much bigger he was, how much he could hurt her if he wanted to. That she was trying to break inside a sealed vault, and she didn't know if there was anything but rage on the other side.

But it didn't matter, because it was what she was supposed to do.

Her breath caught, and she trembled faintly. Draco's eyes darkened.

He pulled her even closer. Her heart was beating so hard it hurt.

It's an act, she told herself. When he was drunk, he didn't hurt her. He was trying to scare her.

His breath was hot on her face, and his voice was so low he was almost whispering to her. The timbre laced through her nerves.

"The Dark Lord doesn't actually care about blood purity, or his followers, or magic being might. You Muggle-borns just happen to be common enough to seem like a threat. It gives the Dark Lord an excuse to accumulate power and it incentivises dark beings to join his cause. He brought most of Eastern Europe into alliance that way. Romania was the first, and the rest fell in line. There are thousands of dark creatures desperate to see the Statute of Secrecy overturned and the wand ban ended. Most pureblood families are discontent with the way wizards are forced into the shadows for the comfort of Muggles. There's enough resentment-if not to recruit them to the cause-to encourage them to ignore what's happening."