Sunday, May 25, 2008
Continue Story (I copy and paste from internet) - Chapter 4 - 'DRACO, LOVE'
CHAPTER 4
The Death Eaters didn’t speak to one another and Hermione almost forgot that the woman and man on either side of her were clearly in some type of relationship. The chilly reception each of them received from the other was enough to make Hermione believe that what she had seen had been only a figment of her imagination. But that all changed when they finally stopped walking.
The girl released Hermione’s arm and Hermione could hear her moving away from them. Then a flickering orange flame lit the wall. Shadows were cast around the stone room in which they stood. The girl moved around the room, lighting the candles that sat in holders on the walls. Once the room was fully aglow in the dim light of the flames, the other hand holding Hermione’s arm released her and approached the girl again. He said something to her, but Hermione couldn’t even see his lips move, much less hear what he said. But the girl removed her cloak, revealing the black dress and black boots beneath. The other man took her cloak from her, his white fingers lingering on hers for much longer than they had to and then they were back, the totally inappropriate romantics who were leading Hermione to her death.
Hermione could feel the presence of the third Death Eater at her back and she knew even thinking about running was a grave mistake. So she did as she was told, walking slowly. “Are you injured?” the girl asked, quickly unfastening Hermione’s cloak and holding it out to her boyfriend, who took it immediately.
“What?” Hermione questioned, confused as she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to shield herself from the cold.
The girl sighed deeply. “Are. You. Hurt.” She raised her eyebrows at Hermione, expecting an answer.
Hermione shook her head. What else could she do? What did they want to know if she was hurt for anyway? Would Voldemort be that disappointed if he wasn’t the one to inflict all the injuries on her?
“Good,” the girl said. “Sit.” She gestured to the plush black sofa that appeared in the center of the room. When Hermione found herself unable to move, the girl folded her arms across her chest. “Sit,” she repeated her voice firm. Hermione sat on the edge of the sofa, her feet tapping on the floor. She heard someone pouring something behind her, liquid splashing into a glass of some sort. Then a small glass was held out to her. Hermione took it slowly, staring down at it. “It’s water,” the girl said slowly. “You know. You drink it.”
Hermione looked up at her. “Yes, I know I drink it. I’m just not sure if I want to be drinking anything that you give me.”
The girl sighed again, a breathy I’m-really-tired-of-your-attitude sigh. “Yes, I can understand that,” the girl said, nodding. “But I assume that you can understand that you really don’t have a choice. So…drink up.”
# posted by Sek Koon @ 7:03 AM 
