rating: NC-17 (for future chapters and etc)

Demon Beneath My Will

by harshdecember
 
 

Chapter 14
The Wise
 

The jet black falcon continued striking the window with it's piercing black beack, growing aggravated by the
wait. But they continued wrestling tongues and making sliding motions with their hands across one another's body,
growing more passionate within the enlightning kiss. Malfoy, wanting more, slipped his hand up her blouse and
began feeling her back up to her silky bra strap. Hermione knew this couldn't be for one good reason. As much as
she wanted this, she still had this major problem she hadn't dealt with yet. For at least a month. Malfoy attempted
to pull off her draping black skirt, until Hermione completely pulled away.

"I can't. We can't." Hermione said, taking a deep breath. Malfoy's hopes fell in an instant.

"Why? You were complaining before, why not now?" Malfoy asked, eyes growing concerned and exasperated.

"Well, that was before...until I found something out..."

"What? About me? Hermione, I can't be that dangerous towards you yet."

"No, it's not that...it's about me..."

"Why? Are you a Black Satan? Doubt it." Malfoy's anger was rising.

"Look, we just can't. At least not now." Hermione threw her arms at her side and ran out of Malfoy's bedroom,
leaving him to take it all in and calm down.
 

~~~~~~

"Dumbledore! Dumbledore!" Hermione whispered harshly. Harry and Dumbledore were now in a very deep
sleep on seperate cushy couches.

"What? What?" Dumbledore woke up with a startle, shooting open his eyes.

"I have this problem." Hermione replied, furrowing her brows.

"What ever do you mean, Hermione?" He asked, putting a boney hand to his forehead. He looked her straight
in the eye, then his expression changed. "Ohh...here..." He lifted his wand into the air and ponited towards the
closest bathroom. "There...if you need anything else, just ask."

"Thanks." Hermione thanked, rushing towards the bathroom.

"What did she want?" Harry mumbled into a pillow.

"You know, something...with girls." Dumbledore replied, settling his head back and closing his eyes again.
 

~~~~~~

Draco sat atop of his guest bed, hands on his forehead and elbows on his knees. Nothing was going right for him,
he had to get away. As much as he knew he was safe with Dumbledore, he still knew soon he wouldn't. No matter
where he may be, Voldemort will still call upon him and he will get what was his. But he may never see Hermione
the way he saw her now, then. He might even kill her once he gets that damn mark. Sucking it all in, he looked up,
hair tossled a bit. Then he looked over to the wondow at once, hearing the soft tapping. He squinted his eyes a little,
then opened them wide and stumbled off of the bed and ran over to the window.

"Guarmo?" Malfoy asked. The falcon started nodding it's feathered neck and lifted up his foot, showing Malfoy the
burning red letter. Malfoy froze. He knew what this meant. Breaking out of his trance a moment later, he opened up
the window and the falcon flew in, flapping it's strong wings violently. He finally landed on Malfoy's shoulder. Malfoy
took off the envelope and opended it slowly. It burned his fingers slightly; it really was a burning red. He pulled out a
black piece of parchment and unfolded it. In silver ink, it read:

Dear Draco,
Young Malfoy, stop running. Your father and I will call upon you, and you certainly well know it. Together,
we will kill all who stand in our way, and you want the power. You've always wanted it. And you also know
you still want it. It's in your blood. It's in your family's blood. Why I've chosen you out of all is because you
show the most strength of a Death Eater. So young, you will live longer. One of the youngest Death Eaters,
and now the first Black Satan. You will show your power. I was once partners with your Grandfather. Alas,
he died in the war against Dark and Light wizards, and you will be the one to replace the power. I do not
enjoy sharing power, but I am growing old. As many think, I will never die, not even of old age. But I am
growing weaker, and I know I might die as it is. So before I have a chance of it, I will let you have to chance
of destroying the Muggle kind AND your little school mate, Harry Potter. For we all know I grieve his family. Heir of Gryffindor, he can rot in hell. So do not deny your blood. I will call upon you Halloween night. This
is a verbal warning: the demonstration will be less painful if you return this instant.

Lord Voldemort

P.S. Watch out for your little muggle friend. Don't grieve, you will kill her. Don't worry.

Malfoy read it over and over; even know he knew it meant all the same thing. He carressed some of his wounds and
patted the falcon on it's head,

"Where is he?" He asked as the falcon hopped off of his shoulder. The falcon looked down, then up into Malfoy's
eyes. "Guarmo, where did you fly from?" Guarmo just looked down again, his eyes tracing the floor. "Then where's
El Diablo?" Guarmo shot his black beak into the air and sniffed. He hopped into the air and flew off out of the room.
Malfoy caught on and followed. Guarmo wouldn't give in to where Voldemort and Lucius were hiding out, but he
did know where his best friend was. Guarmo was the smartest falcon there is. All you would have to do is hand him
something to write with and tie it to his foot, and he would write. Well, not the best writing, little scabbly, but he was
still smart. Malfoy ran after the squawking falcon and down the white halls that reminded him of either a mental
institution or a movie he saw once when younger called the Titanic. Finally, Guarmo stopped in midair and flapped
his wings wildly in front of a small closet.

"Guarmo. This is a fucking closet. In fucking Dumbledore's house. How could Diablo be in here?" Malfoy asked
exasperated. He owned El Diablo and Guarmo; his mother gave them to him just a few years back, so his best
friends were practically his two favorite birds. Guarmo landed down on the white floor and started pecking at the
door, then looking up at Malfoy and cocked his hand to the side. He was so small compared to Malfoy. But he
didn't seem to think it was anything.

"OK, but don't be surprised if a broom falls and knocks you out." Malfoy turned the golden door knob and pulled
it open. Right away, a jet black eagle came flapping out and circling around his head. "El Diablo??" He understood
his birds because he has had them so long. He knew when they were upset for some reason, and he knew when they
were being sincere. The black eagle perched itself upon Malfoy's head and dug it's giant claws into his silver hair,
squawking, cocking it's head, looking about, and flapping it's wings.
 

~~~~~~

Harry yawned as he laid on the comfy couch. He heard something but couldn't put his finger on it. He shot open his
eyes and looked around. No body. Relieved Harry closed his eyes again. OK, he definitely heard something this
time. He shot his eyes open and jumped, startled by who he saw.

"Tired?" Malfoy asked, grabbing at Harry's collar and pulled him into the air, off of the couch. "I would love to know
why my bird was in your broom closet." Harry looked over Malfoy's shoulder and saw a very angry black eagle.

"Oh...yea...him." Harry said.

"Yea. Why was El Diablo in your fucking closet?"

"Do you honestly think I'd tell you," Harry looked down. Yep, his feet were completely off of the ground, "when your
holding me up in the air."

"If you want to live."

"If you want to live."

"What's going on, here?" They both stopped and looked towards the living room door way.

"Oh, hi, Hermione," Malfoy said, still holding Harry, and giving an innocent smile.

"Let him go, now!" Hermione demanded. Instantly, Malfoy dropped Harry, still giving an innocent smile.

"Now, briefly explain why you were holding him so?" Hermione asked, voice softening mockingly.

"I found El Diablo in Dumbledore's broom closet." Malfoy pointed towards his black eagle. Hermione opened her
eyes wide in shock, then smiled. El Diablo flew towards her and perched on her shoulder. "Wait, how does he
know you?"

"I sent Harry an owl and El Diablo was the only owl I could find when I got to your house at first," Hermione began,
stroking El Diablo's neck, "and meant to send it to Ron, but it got confused and sent the letter to Harry instead, and
I've been waiting a week now for Harry's reply but I never got it. Please, Harry, tell us why?" Now they were both
staring at Harry, expecting an explanation. Harry noticed this after a moment and widened his eyes too.

"What?" Harry asked defensively, putting his hands in the air as a shrug.

"Why didn't you write back?" Hermione asked, irritated.

"I hate that bird!" Harry pointed a finger to El Diablo. El Diablo squawked at him. "He really is The Devil! He
deserves to be thrown out of the window!"

"Harry, you understand that if that happened, he could fly?" Hermione asked, rolling her eyes.

"Well, duh, but he hates me! He tried biting off my shirt and kept pecking my head, he wouldn't let me attach the
letter on!"

"Good boy!" Malfoy turned to El Diablo, interrupting Harry.

"So I locked him in a broom closet! You can't blame me, Mione! He was going to pull out my eyes! And pulled
out this huge chunk of hair, too!" Harry folded his arms and glared at El Diablo, who was looking very pleased
with himself. Hermione wanted to laugh, but Malfoy took care of that.

"You mother fucker! No wonder he hates you!" Malfoy tried being serious but laughed. "I don't know if I should
kill you or have El Diablo kill you! That would be a funny sight. You wanna see, Hermione?"

"Since when do you start calling her Hermione? What happened to Mudblood?" Harry asked, now glaring at
Malfoy. Malfoy changed his expression quickly and turned to glare at Harry.

"What I call others is none of your damn business!" he spat.

"Can we please stop fighting?" Hermione asked, patting El Diablo's soft head. "Look, I need some rest, and if you
two keep bickering, I'm going to sick El Diablo on you both of you and bury your over inflated heads in Dumbledore's
backyard!" Hermione snapped. Harry and Draco didn't say another word. "Good." Hermione smiled. Her cramps
were building up, she needed to lie down.
 

~~~~~~

A few days later, Hermione felt tons better. Of course, she only had one day left of her period, but she wouldn't let
that get in her way. It was a cold night, and she needed to get out of that freezing guest room. Rubbing her arms with
her hands, she slipped on her silky white slippers, standing in her light touch nightgown. She needed to get near the
fire. She knew of only one room in the entire mansion that had a decent fire place. Her feet padded softly against the
cold floor as she made her way down the curvy white halls, heading for the stairs. She finally found herself at the
creaky stairs and silently walked down, going into the living room where the brick fireplace was at. All around was
shadowed; except for the flickering light of the crackling fire. As she saw, a figure stood at the fireplace, hand on the
top and other to the mouth, holding a blue pipe.

"Professor Dumbledore?" Hermione asked quietly, hoping not to disturb the silence of the house.

"Yes, Hermione?" Dumbledore replied in a kind tone.

"Is that a pipe?"

"Oh, heavens yes. But I do not appreciate the taste of bitter smoke, so it puffs out bubbles. See?" Dumbledore was
right: as he blew, bubbles came popping out at the top. "Shame other great wizards really do smoke out of a real pipe.
Now what can I do for you?" he asked, his eyes gleaming in the open window moonlight beneath his half moon glasses.

"What will happen? What will we do?" Hermione asked, sitting on a nearby couch.

"If you mean by Voldemort?"

"Yes. What will Draco and we do?"

"Simple questions never leave to simple answers. I can not tell you for certain reasons, but I will tell you this: when
the time is right, Voldemort will be killed, along with Lucius. And I know exactly what to do, but I certainly can not
tell you of all people."

"Why not??"

"Because, you would try and stop me."

"What would I try and stop you from?"

"Miss Granger, life and death are not simple things. To live, you have to be healthy. And to die, you must not breathe. Nor heartbeat nor pulse can be divided, you must learn that they are both hard things to accept."

"What do you mean?"

"Take this, if somebody died, and you have been in mourn for months. But if they came back to life, you would not
be able to understand or take it; especially somebody you loved. Then death is when somebody close dies, and you
will mourn. It will be much more harder to take if they never come back."

"What's this all about, Dumbledore? I don't understand. Who's dying?"

"Somebody close. And that's why I can't tell you my plan, because then you would try and stop me from doing it."

"Are you going to kill somebody?"

"Maybe."

"Who? Why? What will that do?"

"It will save all muggle existance. It will save your life. It will save mine. It will save all wizards to be."

"By doing what?"

"Good night, Hermione. And try not to think about this too much, or you will not even understand the statistics when
you find out." Dumbledore gave a small bow of respect, and apperated the next moment.

"Dumbledore! Who are you going to kill?"
 
 
 

Back to Chapter 13
Chapter 15