Sacrifice, or how Draco Malfoy fell for Hermione Granger

Chapter 2: Failed

A/N: I make no money from the publication of this story. HP doesn't belong to me. And as for Draco... I'm working on it :P

And now, back to the story!

Chapter 2:

'What does that have to do with me?' She demanded, alarmed.

Lestrange leered down at her. 'The Renascentia Potion mainly involves blood-but the key ingredient? It's the blood of a virgin Mudblood witch. She must be over 17 years old. Ideally, a witch born in mid-September, right between his birth day, on 31st December, and his Death, on 2nd May. Any guesses on who matched all the criteria, Mudblood?' He seemed to be enjoying himself as he watched her absorb all his information.

She glared at him. 'I won't give you my blood,' she said, internally wincing at how pathetic that sounded. They could take it whenever they pleased. She was powerless against them without her wand.

'Ah, that stubbornness is simply mouth-watering.' Rabastan simply looked at her in utter amusement, laced with what seemed to be a tiny hint of regret. 'I'd have loved to teach you a thing or two, Mudblood. It's a real pity about your virginity being necessary for the Potion, isn't it? We could have had so much fun.'

Hermione shivered at the implications his words. The very idea of him touching her was repulsive. The bars on her cell, which she'd been trying to dislodge, were the only things standing between her and the raving madman. 'You can't touch me,' she spat, moving to the back of her cell, out of his reach.

'Is that so?' Lestrange stepped forward, walking straight through the bars as if they didn't exist. His faced twisted into a triumphant sneer at her horrified expression. 'The bars are designed to recognize the Dark Mark on my arm. Did you think we needed your permission, Mudblood? That we had to knock on your door, and wait for you to invite us in?' he sneered, closing in on her until he had her backed up against the wall. He reached out a hand, caressing the side of her face almost tenderly. 'I take what I want,' he rasped, his sour breath hitting her face making her want to hurl up her last meal. Cupping her face in his palm, he ignored her furious struggles and pressed his lips to hers.

This can't be happening! She thought frantically. Her skin crawled with disgust wherever he touched her, but there was also the bigger picture to consider. Sweet Goddess, this can't be happening. Voldemort can't come back! There has to be a way to stop it!

The idea forming in her head was so crazy she didn't even stop to second guess herself, for fear of giving away her plan. Swallowing her disgust, she forced herself to stop struggling and kissed the crazy Death Eater back. She began rocking her hips against his, throwing herself into the kiss.

When did I become so cold and detached? She wondered. Her parents didn't remember her, Harry and Ron had each other. No one would miss her when she was gone. She'd quickly accepted her looming death, she realized. Whatever happened along the way was just collateral damage. If her virginity was a tool in the Death Eater's plans, she just had to sabotage that tool.

Lestrange was so surprised at her response that he wrenched back in surprise. 'Well, what do you know. The little virgin is a slut at heart,' he chuckled, releasing her and stepping back.

Hermione couldn't have that. Pulling him closer, she forced herself to bring her lips to his, wrapping her arms around his head. He automatically responded by pushing her back against the wall, lifting her up so that her she was at his height, letting her wrap her legs around his hips. She didn't know much about seduction, but she was pretty certain it wouldn't take much to seduce this sorry excuse for a wizard.

Rubbing herself against the growing bulge she could feel through his robes, she left his lips to run her hands down his thankfully clothed chest and moved her lips to his ear, running it across the tender skin under his earlobe.

'I need you,' she whimpered against his skin, mentally gagging. 'Take me, please.' She tugged at the hem of his robe for emphasis.

That was all it took to make Lestrange groan with need. She felt a moment of triumph as he gave in, letting her peel his robe off his shoulders, leaving him in just his pants.

He went straight for her jeans, pulling them off with swift efficiency, then bringing their lips together once more. She steeled her resolve and stroked him through the material of his pants, almost certain he wasn't wearing any underwear.

Lestrange was tugging impatiently at her shirt, and Hermione let him pull it off her body. Nearly there, she told herself. Well done. She'd never been so exposed in front of a Wizard before, but she did her best to act unaffected as she stood before him in her bra and knickers, kissing him while rubbing his straining erection as she struggled to pull off his pants.

'WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?' Icarus Zabini's voice thundered, stepping into her Cell to bodily pull Lestrange off her. 'Fool!' He hissed out angrily. 'We need her to be a virgin if her blood is to work. It's too late to find another witch.' He slapped the wizard across the face hard enough to knock him down flat. Hermione struggled to keep her tumultuous mix of horror, disgust and relief from showing on her face.

'You let a filthy virgin Mudblood seduce you?' Hermione could've sworn the Wizard's lip twitched in amusement for a second, but it was gone before she could tell for certain, his haughty air returning. 'You're a disgrace, Rabastan. Now get out of my sight before I kill you myself.'

Hermione shrank back as Lestrange, recognizing how real that threat was, hurried out of the cell, not even bothering to retrieve his robe.

Zabini turned his attention to her, his eyes amused. 'You're smart for a Muggleborn, Ms. Granger,' he said, throwing her clothes to her and gliding effortlessly through her cell bars. 'But know this-there is no escape available. If you'd lost your virginity today, we would have killed you in the blink of an eye, since you would cease to be of use to us. But as a virgin, all we'd need is a little of your blood, and you'd be a free witch. We'd all get what we want.'

She scoffed at him. 'And you'd just let me go? Do you actually expect me to believe you'd simply release Harry Potter's Muggleborn best friend? The mastermind behind Voldemort's death? I may be a virgin, but I'm not that naïve.'

Zabini chuckled, any hint of friendliness fading. 'You're smart, for a Mudblood,' he replied darkly. 'But know this-I will personally ensure you have no more 'visitors.' Lestrange slipped past my guard, but rest assured that it won't happen again. Good bye, Mudblood.'

He shoved a tray of food at her, which she presumed was the reason he'd arrived when he did, and stalked away. It held a warm meal that looked surprisingly delicious, but Hermione decided not to touch it for fear of being drugged into submission.

She pulled her clothes back on, feeling dirty. She wanted so badly to bathe and wash away the feel of Lestrange's body against hers. All that effort for nothing, she thought bitterly. Damn Icarus Zabini.

She threw Lestrange's cloak out of the cell through a gap in the bars, disgusted. Another minute and she would've succeeded.

I need a better plan.

A/N: And now comes the part where I beg and grovel for reviews-most of you'll probably not even read this bit, am I right? *sigh*

But to those of you who do, review, please. I don't care if you think this is literally THE Worst Story Ever. I'll be happy to see you share that opinion with me, and still love you for it!

~ craaazyaboutMalfoy