Redemption

by Cherry Lychee

Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns all the characters, settings, and situations you recognize from the Harry Potter series. The rest is mine.

Author's Note: Finally, it's summer! Now I can devote two whole months to my writing. Hurray! -=- does the happy dance -=-

Okay… about this story… Well, it's slightly more adult than some of the romance fics on the Net. I am not referring to the sex ^_^, although there's also that (nothing too graphic, however), but to the angst and violence that will ultimately lead to the death of certain characters. Not exactly the stuff you would expect a thirteen-year-old to be writing… then again, I have a knack for doing the unexpected.

Although this is my first fic, don't bother being gentle. Heck, flame me if you want to! But, of course, words of praise--- if I actually get those--- and constructive criticism will be very much appreciated. Feel free to correct any errors.

Now, sit back, relax, and… read!

Chapter One: The Mission

"You want me to what?"

The disbelieving words came out of Draco Malfoy's mouth before he could stop them, and echoed around the large circular room that had once been the office of the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It now served as the private quarters of Lord Voldemort.

"You heard me, Draco," said the Dark Lord, his pale lips curling in a derisive sneer. "Kidnap Hermione Granger. Bring her here--- unharmed."

Draco prided himself on his ability to keep his emotions secret, to conceal his feelings from the rest of the world. Now, however, shock and amazement showed clearly on his handsome face.

"M---may I ask why?" he stammered. The tips of his ears reddened slightly. Goddamnit, he sounded like a bloody idiot!

Voldemort snorted impatiently, propping his legs up on the enormous claw-footed table before him. "You, of all people, should know why," he said, twirling his wand in a lazy, relaxed sort of way that didn't fool Draco one bit. The Dark Lord was planning something big, something drastic. "With hard work, dedication, and the help of loyal servants such as yourself, I have managed to conquer the entire wizarding world. I have created a mighty empire, an empire that I will do everything within my power to let stand forever!" A demonic glint appeared in Voldemort's flaring red eyes.

"But, alas, Draco," he continued, "even the greatest of empires can fall, and even the strongest of rulers can be overthrown. And I say to you: as long as Harry Potter lives, this empire is not safe."

"Don't you think you're being paranoid?" ventured Draco, careful to mask the contempt he felt, and would always feel, for The Boy Who Lived. "Most of Potter's friends are dead. He, himself, is in hiding. Why do you still consider him a threat?"

"Because, fool," the Dark Lord spat out, "I have underestimated him more than once, and each time, to my downfall. I won't make the same mistake again. He must perish; otherwise, I will never feel completely safe."

Such brutal honesty was unexpected of Voldemort. He would never have admitted to feeling unsafe to any other Death Eater, but Draco was a special case. Draco was his closest ally, his right-hand man, in fact the nearest thing to a friend. The Dark Lord knew he could even admit being scared of mice--- not that he was, of course--- to Draco, and not a single iota of the respect the blonde-haired youth held for his master would be diminished.

"I see your point," Draco said at last, "but what has that got to do with kidnapping Hermione--- I mean, Granger?" He cursed himself inwardly for referring to her by her first name, but the truth was that he had stopped thinking of her as "Granger" or "Mudblood" that fateful night when she had lain in his arms.

"As you have said, Potter is in hiding. I sent spies to look for him, but so far all their efforts have been in vain. Therefore, since we don't know where he is, we must give him an incentive to come out."

Voldemort stopped twirling his wand and resumed a proper sitting position. He leaned forward conspiratorially. "It's a very simple plan, really. All you have to do, Draco, is abduct Granger and bring her to Hogwarts. Potter is a noble man---" he made the word noble sound like an insult--- "he will rescue her. He shall come charging in through the doors and demand that his friend be set free. And that is when we kill him." The Dark Lord's tone was so casual that he could have merely been outlaying a cooking recipe step by step.

"How will Potter find out we've kidnapped Granger?" asked Draco.

Voldemort smiled. "I am sure that Granger will know Potter's whereabouts. We'll make her tell… maybe even get her to contact him herself…"

Draco remained silent for a while, once again awed by his master's cunning and ingenuity. It was a brilliant, foolproof plan. Nothing could go wrong.

There was only one small hitch: he had to kidnap Hermione.

Hermione, the girl he'd hated for years… the girl who'd slapped him once, who called him a "twitchy little ferret" to his face… Hermione, the girl he'd held in his arms one wild night when they were both seventeen, who had so sweetly moaned his name over and over again, her brown eyes cloudy with passion and need… Stuff it, Malfoy, he told himself sternly.

"What's the matter?" Voldemort inquired, seeing the hesitation on his servant's face. "You do not have any, ah, qualms about abducting that Mudblood, do you?"

Draco's blood ran cold. He felt obvious and transparent. "No, none at all, Master," he lied smoothly.

The red eyes narrowed, and, using all the self-control he possessed, Draco gathered his emotions, his thoughts, and locked them away in a deep part of himself, a part the Dark Lord couldn't reach, no matter how hard he tried. Good thing Voldemort hadn't been probing his mind a few moments ago.

"I will bring Hermione Granger to you as soon as possible, Master," Draco vowed, standing up, more than ready to leave.

"Go, then," said the Dark Lord. "You have three weeks to find her."

By now, Draco was used to tight deadlines. And he had never been late, not once. He bowed slightly, and then left the room in a swirl of black robes, all the while cursing Fate for this cruel trick it had played by leaving him no choice but to kidnap a girl he'd once slept with and with whom he had very nearly fallen in love.