Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.




Summary: In order to be in the ranks of a first class Auror, Hermione Selene Granger must actually put her life in danger. The slightest movement or conversation could be her last and end up in her death. Her task is to live amongst the Death Eaters and to find out what Voldemort is really up to, and how will she do that? Well it has to do with Draconis Lucian Malfoy.

Warning: This story will contain profanity, smut, and unusual likeliness.


Adificio Prognatus Spiritus


It had been three months since that fateful day and Hermione still woke up tormented. Images still haunted her from how she was tested on her loyalty for the dark lord, but even though it was all false, she couldn't help but feel nauseous inside. Her task was to kill a Mudblood before everyone's eyes and she had done it.

Well, sort of.

Little did everyone know, the Order came up with a new spell thanks to Hermione's genius. The spell was a fake death spell in some ways. The person it was aimed at would freeze up and immediately fall the floor. A painless death in a way, but not exactly.

It used the same words as the Avada Kedavra except it was called the Avada Kedav and Hermione would just add the ar at the end while pointing her wand away. The corpse would engulf in an emerald light, but the heart would stop momentarily, just long enough to dispose of the body.

After she was excused and applauded, she walked away to her room with a smirk on her face, though once she reached her haven, she couldn't help the tears slipping down her face. Heavy sobs wracked her body and it continued every night, even after months had passed, yet no one noticed. She kept her tears hidden from the world and more importantly, Draco. She would never give him the pleasure to see her demeanor in a pathetic situation.

Though the months had passed, Hermione was treated no differently. She still held the constant sneering of her Mudblood heritage and scoffs as she passed the halls. Her in-laws never let her forget that she was nothing. Lucius constantly reminded her that she was a whore for only one purpose to Voldemort. After a session of disobedience or insubordination, Narcissa would make Hermione feel the utmost misery. She would hiss how Hermione was filth and would never amount to anything, nor ever be good enough for her son.

She was an odd person however.

Even though Narcissa made her feel like absolutely nothing, she encouraged her to do better. It was as if Narcissa was pushing Hermione to test her limits and embrace everything as a whole; hurt her to make her stronger.

Along with the discrimination and ridicule, Hermione had fallen ill. She had fainting spells along with usual bouts of sickness. On top of the illness, her monthly courses had been absent for those three months. She thought nothing of it; her courses were irregular and came and went months at a time. Still, the thought that she might be bearing a child was too much to comprehend.

She refused to believe it. The very thought made her even more ill.

The fact that her clothes seemed a bit tighter than usual didn't faze her; that was until her husband pointed out the roundness of her stomach. His hand skimmed the lush curve of her belly after another night of redemption and love. Stolen kisses were shared as his eyes met hers.

"I think you need to see my mother," his voice drawled softly. Despite the biased remarks she received from others, her and Draco seemed to form an unusual truce. Perhaps he took her words to heart-or what was left of it.

She rolled to her side, escaping his menacing gaze. "I don't see any reason to do so."

"You know exactly what reason that may be love," Draco whispered huskily in her ear, pressing his lips to the hollow base of her neck. "If I'm not mistaken, you're-"

"Don't," Hermione hissed, clenching her teeth together. A wave of nausea hit her as she realized all the signs were there. She pulled herself away from his embrace and scurried towards the bathroom; retching the contents of her stomach into the sink. A migraine made its way throughout her head, throbbing fervently. She groaned and slid to the floor, her cheek meeting the cold tile.

"What am I going to do with you?" Draco sighed as he reached down and pulled her into his arms. A scowl appeared on his face as he noticed how pale she had become. He tied a robe around his body and wrapped her in one of her own and shook his head. "You're going to see my mother. Now."

"No," Hermione moaned, pounding on his chest weakly. She couldn't put up much of a fight. "Just leave me be."

He glared at the woman in his arms. "If you think for one minute I'm going to let you jeopardize the life of my kid then you have another thing coming."

"I'm not pregnant," she choked out. No; she wouldn't accept it.

"Whether you like it or not wench, we are married. Like you said, you have to learn to accept certain things-"

The room began to spin as she desperately gasped for air. "Accept you?"

"It would make things a lot easier," he growled, knocking on his parent's door. "If you're so grateful for the life you've been given-for being redeemed-then why neglect the fact we have a mission? If you're so devout to the Dark Lord then shape up. There is no room for weakness here and I will not have you bring me down with you."

Before Hermione could reply, Narcissa opened the door. She was dressed in her usual robes; high-priority deatheaters didn't sleep much. Since the war had spurred, everything was done at a constant speed. "Yes Draco?"

"She needs to be tested," Draco stated simply, staring at his mother with dull eyes. "She might be bearing a child."

"Yes, I assumed as much," Narcissa drawled, gazing at Hermione's limp form. "She grew quite round but I thought she might've been indulging on the life of a Malfoy."

Hermione refrained from speaking the nasty responses that ran through her head. That was one thing she learned; never let anyone provoke you. They began to move towards the east wing of the manor where she would be tested. The rain pounded away; the sun refused to shine after untimely death of Dumbledore. It was a symbol from the Dark Lord; the light would never break through.

Draco laid Hermione on one of the many beds and surprisingly stayed by her side. He didn't care for her; if the news was good, he would immediately report it to the Dark Lord then run it in Blaise Zabini's face. The prat thought he was so glorious by impregnating the Weasley girl; their child would be a pureblood.

It didn't matter to Draco though. Pureblood or no pureblood, his child was more important than any pathetic child the Weasley girl or anyone might've bore. His child would hold the Imperial Emerald of Salazar Slytherin. Salazar's Mudblood whore accepted her fate when he condemned her soul to hell with the dark magic he placed on her womb.

Draco thought it ironic how his fate was entwined with Granger's. After all the years or torment and debauchery, he would have never thought he would be married to Granger. He hated the idea at first but soon grew fond of it. The fact that he would be able to humiliate the girl whom was the bane of his existence gave him the utmost pleasure; the thoughts soon diminished on their wedding night.

He had seen his Mudblood wife in a new perspective. She whispered the words so seductively, a sinful smile playing on her lips; Hermione was a nymph from his own personal hell. He fell into her embrace and let the feelings of retribution subside into something more passionate; an ardent darkness.

His eyes skimmed over his wife's now sleeping form. He didn't notice the sleep draught his mother had injected her with. He lifted his gaze to meet Narcissa's and raised an eyebrow. "Well?"

"Our assumptions are correct," Narcissa stated in a firm tone. "She is with child. Three months now."

"She is quite big for three months," Draco speculated, starting at Hermione's round belly with pleasure. They had conceived on their wedding night; no time was wasted.

Narcissa shook her head as she snapped the gloves off her fingers. "You're expecting twins."

"Excellent," her son smirked, looking at Hermione once more. "I'll be off. You can leave her here; I'll pick her up after I am done. Oh and if you can mother, please give her something for the sickness. It's disturbing when the sound of her retching is your lullaby."

Narcissa smiled fondly at her son and waved her hand. "Be gone brat."


Satisfaction gleamed in his eyes as the younger Malfoy gave him the wonderful news. He managed to impregnate the Mudblood and much to his surprise, two children were to be expected. "For your sake, hope one of them is a girl."

"Yes my lord," Draco bowed. In order for the Imperial Emerald to pass, a girl must be born to carry on the legacy.

"Have you noticed a change in your wife Draco?" Voldemort hissed lowly, staring at the blond head kneeling before him.

Draco's silver gaze lifted and nodded. "Her behavior at some points is very odd-as if she is possessed by something."

"That would be the dark blood," Voldemort said casually. Draco stared back at him with a confused expression. "You see Draco, as a bearer of the Imperial Emerald; your wife was born with dark magic the dwelled in her veins. Back in your schooling days, the sorting-hat contemplated on whether to place her in Slytherin much to my surprise after reading her thoughts, but she chose courage over cunning."

"The dark magic within her will eventually come to full consumption?" Draco asked curiously.

"Indeed," the Dark Lord said, a sultry smile resting on his lips. "At this very moment her energy is being drained by the children she is carrying. A close watch will need to be put on her as the months go on. The Mudblood isn't use to the dark magic that is coursing through her right now let alone the magic she is being robbed of."

"Yes my lord," he replied. Nothing would happen to his Mudblood; he would make sure of that.

"Zabini," Voldemort barked into the darkness.

Blaise emerged from the shadows of the room and bowed before his lord. He nodded at Draco though still kept his head bent. "You wished to see me?"

"How far along is your wife?"

"Five months now I believe my lord."

"Yes. Keep her near Madam Malfoy's presence. She will no longer be living in your manor."

Blaise stared with confusion. "My lord?"

"I understand that the two girls were once acquainted. I believe it would be best if they spent some time together-have your wife explain certain things to the girl."

"Of course my lord." Blaise's voice dripped with disdain; he hated it when Ginny wasn't near him.

"Leave my presence, the both of you."

Draco and Blaise rose from the ground and stormed out of the room, contemplating on what they were told. Blaise then turned to Draco with a haughty glare.

"So you managed to knock up your Mudblood yet?"

"Don't you dare speak of her like that," Draco snarled while whipping out his wand. "At least my wife is useful; you married a blood traitor, a Weasley."

Blaise's eyes darkened with fury. "We may be friends Draco but never insinuate that Ginny is low. At least she is Pureblood; you went off and made half-breed children. Pathetic."

"If you haven't noticed Zabini, some very powerful wizards are half-breed," Draco muttered under his breath. He looked around to make sure they weren't being watched; no one could be trusted. He then pulled Blaise into one of the many secret rooms of the Malfoy Manor. "Pureblood is a dieing breed, my dear friend. Each Pureblood child that is being born has some sort of affliction; a disease some would say. You should be lucky that your family and the Weasley's are very distant relatives."

Blaise raised an eyebrow. "Are you insinuating that it is better to marry outside the Pureblood circle?"

"Let me tell you one thing Zabini. That circle is being broken, one by one. Only a handful of real Pureblood families remain and even then, more are going extinct. Look at Parkinson's family-they couldn't even have a bloody son and rumor has it Pansy is infertile."

"Not like anyone would touch her," the dark-haired man replied, a sardonic grin resting on his lips. "Granger is having twins?"

"She's a Malfoy now. She left behind that light of pathetic prayers the day she received the dark mark," Draco growled, his eyes darkening in the process. "And yes, we're expecting twins; if I assume correct a boy and girl. When is your brat due?"

"Not long now," Blaise said, pursing his lips as if deep in thought. "I'll have to ask Narcissa to give her a Celeritas Infantia potion."

"What's that?"

Blaise rolled his eyes and walked down the dark corridors with Draco. "The potion speeds up the pregnancy. I'm sure within a month or so Hermione will take the same. You know how Ginny if five months now? Well when she consumes the potion, she'll have the baby within a month-perhaps two."

"Interesting." Draco trailed off a bit then turned to Blaise. "Can you believe that we are going to be parents? How is that fathomable?"

Blaise stopped at the front door and turned to face Draco. He shrugged his shoulder, clearly not interested in the fact of himself being a father. "Quite frankly, I don't care. A kid is a kid; they breathe, they cry, they eat, it's nothing new at all. Ginny will be taking care of the brat most of the time until he grows up to become one of us." The answer was typical for a soon to be father in his very early twenties. "I'll be off now."

"Right." Draco waited until he heard a crack before he closed the door and walked off to check on his wife. The curtains were pulled around each portrait that hung on the walls so as not to disturb any meetings that may have been held.


She was dieing. She knew she was. The pain that coursed in her body immobilized her. They had found out about everything; they knew her mission. The many lessons she had with Harry didn't work. They knew and they were torturing her. It felt as if a million daggers were stabbing her, poisoning her. All breath had escaped her body as a frigid terror clutched her heart.

'Give in.' a voice hissed inside her.

Never. She would never submit. She would not betray those whom she loved.

Her eyes snapped open but all around her was darkness. A faint silhouette in the distance glowed, but she couldn't see who it was. She crawled feebly towards the figure, grasping at the nothingness, clawing for salvation.

'You are almost there my dear,' the voice lulled to her. 'Just a little more and you won't feel anymore of this agony. Yes dear. Give in to your desire. Embrace what you were born with.'

She didn't understand though. What was she supposed to embrace? What was she born with? The shadows of the past, present, and future flashed before her, taunting her, torturing her. A birthday with her parents, the battle at the ministry, the faint crying of a child…

'Watch my dear, sweet girl,' the voice whispered soothingly. 'Choice and destiny are two different things dear girl; eventually we all fall into the hand of fate. You can't escape…just give in…'

Her eyes glazed over on a specific scene. Two men stood battling one another, wands at the ready, curses thrown about. The distant figure from before became clearer by the moment. It was a woman. She clutched her stomach protectively along with her heart, weeping in sheer misery as the two men shouted two separate orders to her.

Hermione's eyes widened in fear as she realized the weeping woman was her…

"Wake up damnit!"

Draco watched as his wife writhed in pain, agony clear on her face. She trembled and cried out into the darkness, clawing at the sheets of the bed. Beads of sweat were present on her forehead as her body temperature began to rise. Narcissa ran towards Hermione's trembling form and stuck a syringe full of potion into the veins in her arm.

Her body fell restlessly against the bed and the gasping came to a halt. Hermione's breath began to even slightly, though the ache on her face was evident. Draco stared up into his mother's eyes with something she hadn't seen in a long time: panic.

"She's trying to fight it," Narcissa murmured softly, moving the damp hair from Hermione's face. "It is a hard process, especially for her."

"Is there any way-"

"No. She must accept the dark magic on her own terms and come to yield it in the process." Narcissa sighed and shook her head as she grabbed another flask of draught. "The consequences are fatal if she continues to fight the transformation…"

Draco's jaw hardened as he stared at his mother intensely. "Fatal?"

"Death, Draco. Death."

An icy terror shook Draco's body. He wouldn't let that happen; he would do everything in his power to make sure Hermione would accept everything. Not another word was said as Draco lifted his wife's limp form in his arms and made his way back to their private chambers.

Death wasn't an option. He worked far too hard and sacrificed far too much for it to all come down to this. Nothing would stop him from hatching his plan. He felt Hermione stir in his arms, a soft moan escaping her lips. He watched as her eyes fluttered open for a moment and could see the transformation already taking effect.

Her eyes were like ink; black as the night. She didn't seem to be aware of what was going on as her eyes closed once more in exhaustion. He whipped out his wand with one hand and undid the enchantments on the door to their privy chamber and walked over to the bed to deposit her body.

It had been a long night.

The hours passed unceremoniously and each minute was pure hell for Draco. He didn't know whether she would live or die. After three months of marriage he had learned so much by just watching her sleep. Her face contorted either out of anguish or distress, maybe both. He lay down next to her uneasy form and just stared as she twisted from the nightmares that haunted her.

He noticed that she screamed, a lot, and it wasn't the screaming of pleasure or delight. She screamed in agony and fear. She whispered incoherently and turned her head back and forth, tears streaming down her face. Her hair would change from a light brown to a dark chestnut like a flickering flame. Her hands would claw at invisible objects-it was as if she were suffering from delusions.

And then it all stopped all together. The screaming, the clawing, the fitful movements ceased and for a moment Draco thought she was dead. He lifted his head and placed it gently to her chest; her heart was still beating. He sighed in relief for the first time in what seemed like an eternity and slowly but surely he began to drift away into a peaceful slumber.


"Blaise, I don't understand why-"

"Ginny would you give it a rest?" Blaise snapped as he pointed his wand to pack various items for his wife. He rubbed his temples, aggravated by the situation. "I don't like it either but the Dark Lord commands it. Besides, I thought you would be happy to see your old friend again."

Ginny's eyes flashed dangerously. "She is no friend of mine."

"Women," Blaise muttered while shrinking the cases and stowing them in his cloak. He walked towards his wife and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his head upon hers. "Listen. You won't be gone forever and I will see you every moment that I am capable of. Grang-Madam Malfoy may not be your friend but the Dark Lord wants you to help her specifically."

"With what?" Ginny mumbled into his chest.

Blaise pulled back but held his hands on her shoulders, staring at his wife intently. "It seems that Madam Malfoy is with child-well-children actually. She is expecting twins."

Her dark eyes widened as a gasp escaped her lips. "No…"

"That's what I said," Blaise snorted as he paced around the room. "She isn't allowed to do much with all that dark magic and such-"

"Dark magic?"

Blaise bent down to his wife's ear and whispered lowly. "Do you know of the Adificio Prognatus Spiritus curse?"

Ginny pulled back fiercely to try and find a trace deceit on her husbands face but found none. "That curse is just a myth."

"Haven't you realized this by now Ginny?" Blaise scoffed as he narrowed his eyes at her. "There are no room for myths and fairy-tales. There are no happy endings, only bitter beginnings."

She knew that though. Ginny learned long ago that sometimes life wasn't what it seemed; never what one expected. Things could seem bright and beautiful at first but in the end it is all false. People lie. Friends hurt you. Love was deceiving. She nodded as she stared into her husband's eyes; she knew exactly what he meant.

After all, her life had barely started. She clasped her stomach and didn't say another word, taking Blaise's hand to be transported to the Malfoy manor.

She never did get her happily ever after.


Authoress Note: Here is another chapter for all you wonderful people. I don't care about Deathly Hallows because I am still for Draco and Hermione…no matter what happens. Hahaha CACKLE er anyways enjoy!