Hermione held her arm out in front of her in an attempt to keep some space between her and Draco, much as she would a wild animal. If he got too close, he might bite her. Or do something else, from the way his eyes kept straying to the tops of her breasts and her legs.
In her haste to cover herself, she had inadvertently bunched up the sheet, which barely reached her mid-thigh. She tried to readjust it so that she would be more covered, but it was difficult to do so one-handed, and the sheet opened to reveal the skin of her hip and midsection. Draco's low growl resounded again, and his eyes roamed over her exposed flesh.
This wasn't working. She'd just have to make do with the sheet as is. Clutching it tighter around her body, she wondered if she could appeal to his reason. At least until she had found a suitable weapon. What she needed to do was stay calm, and control her breathing. If she got excited, so would he. If she acted frightened, it would provoke him.
Hermione took a few deep, calming breaths while Draco watched the movement of her breasts.
"Draco?" she said smoothly. "Draco," she tried again until his eyes met hers. She was struck by the shining, inhuman intensity that was there, a mockery of the bright passion of the man in whose body the vampire resided.
Fighting back the tears that threatened to surface, she kept the desperation out of her voice and said, "Draco, talk to me. Where am I?"
She watched his gaze linger over the skin of her neck, collar bone, and the top of her breasts before returning to her eyes. "My manor."
She tried to control her surprise. After the deaths of his parents (and as far as she had known, himself), Malfoy Manor had been abandoned. It must be very powerful magic that succeeded in disguising the fact that he still resided here. He was hiding in plain sight. No one would look for him here. It was a smart play on his part.
Keeping her voice even, she asked, "What are you going to do with me?"
She walked backwards very slowly, so as not to make any sudden movements, and kept her hand out to preserve the distance between them, futile as the gesture was. Just as slowly, he advanced.
Eyeing her throat again, he said, "They want me to torture, fuck, and drain you."
She tried to back away into a different direction, towards a table where there were various knick-knacks; maybe one of them had a bit of silver on them, or could at least be used as a weapon. Draco side-stepped gracefully, blocking her path.
She brought her eyes up to his and tried to keep the wavering out of her voice.
"And is that what you're going to do?"
He was licking his fangs.
"How about two out of three?" he said with a smirk, and she thought she saw a bit of the human Draco that she had known. Was it possible that he was still in there, somewhere?
Her back hit the wall and she swallowed.
"So you're going to kill me?"
He reached out and grabbed her outstretched arm so quickly she didn't even see his hand move. The sudden contact with him made her stomach churn in nervous anticipation. Slowly, deliberately, he brought her hand up to his lips. His hot breath tickled her.
Staring at her flesh, he replied distractedly, "They told me not to."
He had a way of speaking in which he detached himself from the Death Eaters giving him orders. That gave her hope. Maybe this vampire had his own agenda. If she could reason with him, or find the right angle, he might let her escape.
She tried to get her hand back, but knew it was useless. Draco had been much stronger than her in his human form; she had no chance against a vampire. His grip tightened and he turned her hand over, exposing the underside of her wrist to his mouth. Slowly he licked, tasting her. A jolt of electricity shot from the wet path on her wrist to her core, causing her lips to part slightly. His grey eyes flicked back up to hers, glinting silver, observing, and he gave her a knowing half smile.
"S- so, you won't kill me," she stammered, trying to ignore the desire building within her.
She tried to make her question sound like a statement, one that he could either agree or disagree with, but he didn't seem to be paying attention to what she was saying. Her breath hitched as he dragged the point of his fang along the path still wet from his saliva. She tried to pull her hand back, but to no avail. She didn't want to feel this way. Much as she would have loved to be this close to Draco, it wasn't really him.
"I hope not," he answered with a lilt in his voice. It sounded as if she had asked him if it was going to rain instead of murder her.
So he planned to drink from her, but not to the point of death. At least not on purpose. She took a deep, calming breath and tried to assess the situation. Oddly enough, it appeared that this vampire was being completely honest with her. Or maybe this was part of his interrogation tactic. Either way, it was a strange conversation they were having. She simply didn't know enough about Muggle vampire psychology in order to make a judgment, and knew nothing about wizard vampires. The vampire would acquire Draco's memories and personality traits, but would be beholden to baser needs of lusting after blood and sex. And then what? She just didn't know.
Draco looked down at her wrist again. He appeared to be deep in thought, and his thumb lightly rubbed the skin over her vein, warming her skin underneath and exciting her. Hoping to find a weapon, she flicked her eyes over the expanse of the room. There was a desk in the corner to her right with quite a few objects on it. Quickly, she brought her eyes back to Draco's face so that he would not see where she had been looking, and she tried to remember what she had seen.
Candle, parchment, gold ink well, decorated quills, wax seals, letter opener. Bingo.
Considering the riches of Malfoy Manor, if it looked like it was a precious metal, it probably was. The silver blade of the letter opener would be a perfect weapon. If she succeeded in stabbing him, it would weaken his body considerably and she'd be able to physically overpower him. But she'd have to sever his head in order to actually kill him.
She swallowed. She didn't want to kill him but it wasn't really him, was it? Even if this vampire was truly Draco, he was working for Voldemort now. She had to treat him as an enemy. How could she stall him and work her way over to the table?
With growing trepidation, she watched as he brought her wrist up to his mouth. Knowing what would come next, she curled her toes and did her best not to flinch. There was a sharp pain when he gently punctured the underside of her wrist with one of his fangs. Slowly, he pulled the fang out and his eyes became hooded as he watched a thin rivulet of blood run down her skin. Groaning, Draco licked the length of her arm. She watched her red, thick blood coat his tongue as it curled back into his mouth.
His eyes rolled back, and the gruff moan which sounded from his chest caused an unsettling warmth to spread below her stomach. As if it would rein in her physical reaction to him, she clutched the sheet even tighter around her body.
She watched him in both horror and fascination. Hermione had never seen a vampire feed before. She knew that their hunger and sexual needs overlapped, and occasionally they fed while copulating with their victims. She wondered if this was to be her fate.
"Are you going to beat me? Torture me?"
Glowering down at her with those inhuman, silver eyes of his, he ran his tongue over his lips with obvious pleasure and asked with a smirk, "Do you want me to?"
"No." Her voice caught in her throat.
It was disturbing her, how he was able to make impending torture and death sound sexy. This whole interrogation scenario was one that she was not prepared for, and could never have imagined. Draco's presence, even as a vampire, had her woefully off balance.
She watched him as he slowly closed in on her while licking the stream of blood from her elbow and back up to her wrist, giving small sounds of bliss as he did so.
"Aaah," his eyes fluttered closed as he emitted another groan from within his chest. "You taste far better than I'd imagined."
He proceeded to lick every last drop from her wrist, hand and fingers. Without breaking the skin, he delicately grazed the pad of her thumb with his teeth, and flicked it with his tongue. She could have sworn that his eyes crinkled with a quick smile.
Was he teasing her? It couldn't be.
But if he wasn't going to torture her, or kill her, that left…
"Are you going to fuck me?" she whispered.
His lips spread in a feral smile, exposing his fangs again. "Oh, yes."
She couldn't help it. She felt her own wetness below. Draco as a vampire was very sexual, and everything about him was making her respond to his closeness, his heat, and his lust. She rubbed her legs together.
Giving her a predatory leer, he slowly inhaled through his nose, showing her that he could indeed, smell her desire, too. She shivered. As if to confirm her thoughts, he closed the small space between them, gathered a fistful of the sheet covering her bum, and pressed himself to her core.
She could feel every inch of him through his trousers.
It was so cruel. She wished they would have just killed him. This vampire in Draco's shell made the loss of his life that much more acute. Closing her eyes to stave off the tears, she told herself that this man with Draco's eyes and Draco's mouth and Draco's body wasn't really him. She had to kill him and get out of here.
He slipped his hand around her waist and dug his fingers into her over the sheet. A small whimper escaped her.
She opened her eyes again. The sight of his fangs lowering to her wrist brought her back to the present, and her heartbeat sped up. Considering that feeding from her left him severely preoccupied with his own pleasure, she wondered if she could take advantage of him while he was drinking. He might be stronger and faster than her, but he still had male anatomy.
She tensed, priming to knee him in the groin so she could dash for the letter opener. Draco splayed his hand over her back, angled his head, bit down on her wrist and sucked.
She gasped. The pain was sharp, but it was quickly overshadowed by a warm desire spreading from where he was drawing on her wrist. All thoughts of the letter opener were forgotten as she felt his mouth pull at her very being, from the tips of her toes, through her limbs, her torso and back to her wrist.
She felt herself enflaming from the inside. She was hot and her body was thrumming. The lust she felt was so intense that a guttural cry suddenly escaped from her throat.
Draco extracted his fangs from her wrist and she panted as he released her from his pull. She was left with an achingly empty feeling down below.
Hermione tried to catch her breath while Draco watched her. His eyes were heated, and surprised. Apparently, he hadn't been expecting that reaction either. Wordlessly, he again brought her wrist up to his mouth, now red with her blood.
"No! Wait!" she gasped before she could stop herself. Her panic would only spur him on.
His bloody smile was devilish and his silver eyes gleamed at her. "Just one more sip."
"No! Nooooo!" Her protest turned into a moan as his fangs slid into her flesh, and lust again inflamed her body. The rush of ecstasy which followed was so strong that her knees buckled. She felt his arm catch her from behind and press her harder against him. The sensation built up and she again felt pleasure ripping through her with each draw on her wrist.
He shuddered with each pull when she keened and began to shake as her orgasm passed through. Slowly, he removed his fangs from her wrist and pulled back. She gulped for air, eyes wide with disbelief. Draco's expression was a mix of fascination and need. He made to bite her again but she protested, trying to do so more calmly this time.
"No," she gasped. "No," she stated more firmly.
He looked at her, observing, contemplating. It was almost as if it was him. How much of Draco was there in this vampire before her? Was she deluding herself? Was she only seeing him because she wanted to?
"Please, Draco," she said evenly. "Please, wait. You're going to do whatever you want to me anyway, can we just wait a bit?"
Slowly, an amused smile spread across his face, but he didn't bite her. Again, she couldn't shake the feeling that it was really him.
Her voice was calm. "Please, Draco."
She tried to pull her hand away, but his grip was like a vise. Slowly, he licked the puncture wounds he'd left, his tongue blazing a hot trail on the underside of her wrist. She tried again to yank her hand away. He loosened his fingers on her wrist by only a few millimeters, but it was enough for her hand to squeeze through and she pulled away from his grasp. She turned her wrist over to inspect it, and to her surprise, saw no markings. It was extremely difficult to heal punctures without leaving so much as a scar.
"Does your saliva close the wound? I didn't know that vampires could do that." She clutched her sheet and tried to inch to the right, closer to the desk.
The corners of his lips twitched upward.
"I'm a wizard, Hermione."
Inch by inch, inch by inch. He retracted his fangs. She gave a mental sigh of relief.
"But you have no wand," she argued.
He blinked at her, neither confirming nor denying her declaration. Her eyes widened in comprehension.
"And you didn't say anything either! All you have to do is…" her voice dropped to a disbelieving whisper, "think?"
The implications of that were staggering. Not only could he easily overpower nearly anyone physically, but also magically. Draco nodded, almost imperceptibly.
"Contrary to the hearsay," he said.
So he had researched his condition, and found that reality—much to Hermione's chagrin—offered something that wasn't recorded in books. Fascinating. But if Draco was so powerful, why didn't the Death Eaters use him? He would be the ultimate weapon, and no one would suspect it. What was going on here? Inch by inch. Draco caught her arm and cocked his head; a lock of his blond hair fell to the side.
"Where are you going?"
In the blink of an eye, he disappeared and reappeared in front of her, twirling the letter opener in his fingers.
"Is this what you want?"
She swallowed. She had to stay calm. She had to keep him talking so she could stall. Think. Anything.
"I guess it won't be of much use to me if you can touch it without pain."
"Platinum," he said, answering the question on the tip of her tongue.
She exhaled slowly. She was so fucked. As if he could read her thoughts, he gave her a malicious smile, and the inhuman gleam returned to his eyes. To her disgust, he extended his tongue and dragged the letter opener over it, slicing it. His blood pooled on the surface, dripped over his chin and fell down to the carpet, staining the fibers deep red. She looked up and saw that he was giving her that look again. It made her feel sexual, and female, and acutely vulnerable. She was running out of time.
A stake... how could she distract him long enough to make a wooden stake? She was running out of options. Maybe she could draw him into a conversation.
"Has anyone in Voldemort's army tried to hurt you?"
He didn't react, but instead cupped the back of her neck with his hand to draw her to him. His lids were half closed and she looked down at his bloody mouth, feeling both desire and revulsion at the thought of kissing him this way.
She tried another tactic. She had to get him talking.
"It's not real," she said in a lowered voice, her lips brushing his. "The desire isn't real; it's induced by your vampiric abilities."
Of course! He didn't need a wand.
"You charmed me when you drank from me. None of this is real, Draco."
He backed away slightly, eyes flashing down at her. She felt as if the intensity in his eyes was laying her bare before him. For a fleeting instant, she knew that she saw the human Draco in there.
In a husky voice, he replied, "I did no such thing. This is the most real sensation I've had since..." His gaze flickered down to her lips. "Then."
Draco's eyes met hers again, and she understood. The man and the vampire were one and the same. Her heart raced with the knowledge that he was within her grasp, if only she could reach him. She just needed to stave off his bloodlust.
But if she couldn't…
"Your reaction was…"—he smirked—"most surprising."
He leaned down to kiss her. Trying to keep the panic out of her voice, she spoke, "Draco, I… wait—"
Before she could utter another word, his mouth was on hers and his tongue was inside her. He dropped the letter opener to the ground with a thud. Any thoughts of resisting flew out the window as she felt Draco's hands roaming over her body, and his tongue swirling in her mouth.
She felt warm, encased by him. Her heart fluttered from being in his embrace with his arms around her. Desire for this man, this vampire, made her skin hot. Unable to resist, she responded and shifted her hips slightly, rubbing into him and eliciting a few animalistic grunts.
She felt the tears come unbidden. Much as she had dreamed of being with him, she now anguished over the circumstances of their kiss. The Death Eaters had brought her to him. Her heart simply ached and she dug her fingernails into his bare shoulders in despair. He bucked into her in response. Fighting back a sob, her throat tightened and she accidentally swallowed his blood. It was sweet, not as metallic as she would have expected.
That was it!
The sudden realization snapped her out of the self-pitying thoughts. If she turned into a vampire, not only would she be a match for him, but she could easily overpower any guards on the way out. Maybe she could mount her own attack here. If she was going to die, she would take as many of them as she could with her.
Lacing her fingers into Draco's soft hair to hold his head still and close to her, she tenderly, experimentally, sucked the blood from his tongue and swallowed. Suddenly, he tensed, and then his entire body gave a violent shudder. He slowly pulled away from her, and her heart beat rapidly in fear. Would he know what she was doing? She looked up at him and her lips parted in surprise.
His features were graced with an expression of absolute rapture. His eyes were bright and luminous in their silver color. His mouth was slightly open and his fangs were gleaming, dripping with his blood and hers.
"Do it again," he rasped.
She brought her free hand up to grasp his hair, but she could scarcely pull his head down to hers before his mouth was already on her. Their lips locked and his tongue pushed against hers, wanting more. Slowly, she sucked, and swallowed his blood. He grunted, shuddered again, and pressed himself into her. He was naked now. She could feel it through the sheet. He must have vanished his trousers.
She sucked again, and swallowed. He groaned into her mouth. She did it again, and again, and again. He groped at her back, clutched at her rear, pulled on her arms, threaded his hands through her hair, and pressed himself into her until he could do nothing but writhe against her. She felt his chest vibrate as he growled and groaned each time she drew on his blood.
Suddenly, he dug his fingers into her flesh and rocked up and into her. A warm wetness spread on the sheet over her stomach.
Did he just…? Merlin! That was the most erotic experience she'd ever had.
Draco rested his forehead against hers, and she opened her eyes to see that his were closed. The low growl now sounded more like a contented purr, and the vibrations from his chest were almost soothing.
Would he let her do that to him again? Or would he be suspicious? She would need a lot more blood to become a vampire. Not to mention that she had to lose more of hers. At least, with this method of acquiring it, she wasn't in a position of complete weakness.
She considered her options. Maybe she could get him to talk to her some more, now that his more primal needs had been met. Slowly, she tried to extricate herself from his embrace. Clutching her sheet, she released his neck and slid to the left. In the process, her thigh rubbed against him and to her surprise she felt that he was still rock hard.
Draco's eyes snapped open at the friction and he growled down at her.
He looked dangerous. She tried to keep the waver out of her voice and address him calmly.
Firmly, he tugged at her sheet and it fell into a pool around her feet. For a full second, he leered at her nakedness, unmoving. She steeled herself.
Here it comes.
Unexpectedly, he dropped his head down and started roughly sniffing her hair, her face and her neck. He lowered himself further and his mouth and nose grazed her breasts, nipples, and stomach. His hands followed, kneading her skin. She gasped as he went lower, touching her, licking her, gasping into her skin and inhaling her everywhere.
She felt overheated and yet she shivered when he knelt before her and began to lick her inner thigh where some of her fluid had dripped down. He lifted her leg and pinned it to the wall to gain more access. The pressure of his tongue increased, and he indiscriminately lapped at the inside of her thighs, juncture, and groin.
There was no finesse. He was like an animal, licking and lapping at the skin of her thighs, lower abdomen and her folds. She yelped each time he touched her clitoris, and he painfully dug his fingers into her posterior and thigh. She splayed her hands against the wall to brace herself. He licked faster, and became rougher with her, grunting with each movement. Sometimes, the pressure of his tongue caused an uncomfortable pain on her sensitive nub, and other times it caused a jolt of severe pleasure; she never knew what would come next. She threaded her fingers into his hair in an attempt to control his movements, but to no avail.
Suddenly, she screamed at the piercing pain of his bite and then bit her lip as Draco drank from her, grunting and moaning with abandon at each suck and swallow. She could feel the skin at the junction of her inner thigh being suctioned into his mouth. Without warning, a sharp, severe pleasure rolled through her body and she threw her head back, keening and thrusting towards him. Without breaking contact, he reached up and dragged her down to the ground. Her head hit the floor and she bucked her hips. To restrict her erratic movements, he pinned one leg down and held her other above his shoulder, wrapping it around his neck.
Knowing that she might die was the only thing that kept her cognizant through the whirlwind of sensation. Straining her arm, she reached for the letter opener. It wasn't silver, but it was sharp. As another wave of pleasure overtook her, she cried out and stabbed him to the hilt in between his shoulder and neck. Abruptly releasing her, he reared back and roared in pain. But since the blade wasn't silver, he removed it in a blink of an eye and was back on top of her, fangs bared, and snarling angrily over her.
"You would have killed me," she gasped, trying and failing to keep her voice steady.
She might still bleed to death from the bite to her thigh if he didn't regain enough of his mind to heal her soon. She didn't even know if he would.
The anger in his face subsided slightly. His wound was bleeding onto her breasts and her blood was dripping from his mouth. He licked his lips, eyeing the small pools and rivulets of blood decorating her chest. Before he could bite her breast too, she lunged and bit down on the stab wound she had made between his neck and shoulder. Draco howled. Hermione wrapped her arms and legs around him, holding on as tightly as she could, and swallowed as much of his blood as she was able. His body shuddered and he moaned with abandon each time she sucked the blood from his veins. She felt his arms encircle and lift her body so that they were sitting upright. Without warning, he slid up her passage and sunk into her. They both gasped. Hermione lifted her head briefly and turned to Draco. His eyes were shining; he was terrifyingly beautiful.
"Please," he rasped at her. "Don't stop."
She bit at the juncture between his neck and shoulder again, drawing more of his blood, and Draco pulled her down hard, impaling her as far as he could.
"Huu-uuuh!" she grunted as the air was forced from her with the power of his thrust.
He began to rock his pelvis back and forth, and maneuvered her hips and bum to his movements to increase the force of his entry. Their bodies, now splattered with blood, slipped and slid back and forth with each penetration. He pushed and pulled on her pelvis, grunting and growling. The sounds coming from him were increasingly desperate and frustrated, as if he were reaching for something unattainable. She drank once more from him when suddenly, she found herself flipped over on her hands and knees.
"Aaaaah!" she yelped in surprise.
Before she had a chance to catch her breath, he pushed her chest down to the floor, circled her underbelly with his arm to lift her rear higher up into the air, and thrust into her from behind with a roar. She whimpered, half in pain, half in pleasure. She tried to grab onto something to brace herself, but there was nothing on the floor that would help. Her body rocked forward, slipping on the hard wood floor with each of his thrusts, completely out of control.
Hot breath was on the back of her neck and, knowing what would come next, she grabbed his forearm and bit down on the underside of his wrist as hard as she could.
Draco thrust, howled, and sank his fangs into her, claiming her. The pleasure was so intense, it was all she could do to keep drawing on his blood. Her vision went black and wave after wave of orgasmic bliss rocked her body with each of his frenzied thrusts.
She heard an unrestrained wailing and realized that it was her own as he rammed into her. Just when she thought she might die in the throes of rapture, he grunted into her neck and sank into her, once, twice and a third time before hot seed emptied into her.
Panting, he leaned over her for a few seconds before delicately extracting his fangs. A warm tingling told her that he had closed all of her wounds, and he kissed her where he had bitten her on the neck. She tried to keep sucking the blood from where she had bit him on his wrist, but he gently pried her mouth away, removed his arm, and rolled off her onto his back. Her legs finally giving out, Hermione collapsed on the hard wood floor in a mess of blood and fluids. She couldn't move anymore, and just lay down on her stomach. Resting her head on her forearm, she turned to face Draco.
He was lying on his back with one arm behind his head, facing her, studying her. Even with the blood matted in his hair and dripping from his mouth, he looked sated, content and completely human. His eyes were now the grey she remembered. Slowly, a lazy post-coital grin graced his features.
"Did you like drinking my blood?"
He ran his thumb over his jaw, collecting some more of her blood, and smiling, gingerly sucked it off of his thumb.
She exhaled, her voice was hoarse from screaming. "I would have died without it."
Draco glanced up at the ceiling, and then back at her. He looked slightly disgusted with himself and said, "I don't think so, I could have…" He sighed in resignation. "Yeah, you're probably right."
Weakly, she reached for the sheet, now completely bloodied. Draco seemed every bit the human man she knew, and his penis was lying limply on his thigh, but there was no reason to parade herself around and risk tempting him further. He grabbed her wrist as she pulled the sheet up.
"Please, don't cover yourself." His voice was soft, pleading. "I want to… look at you."
Her throat felt tight. He sounded so tender and caring. She thought she just might cry again. What a horrible world they lived in. She glanced at his eyes. He looked sated, and his fangs were retracted despite the mess of blood around them, but she didn't want to take the chance.
"Draco, I won't live through another round. You can't control yourself."
He stared at her and firmly removed the sheet from her hand. For a fleeting instant, she despaired at the thought that even at his most human he couldn't be reasoned with. But he swiftly shook out the sheet and spread it over her himself, so that everything but her face and the arm she was resting her cheek on was covered.
She didn't know what to think at this point. Her plan didn't work. She hadn't been able to drink enough blood to become a vampire; he had pulled his arm away. Her only hope was if Draco were to change her himself. But seeing as how she was betrayed by Padma and brought to him, he would never give her an opportunity to overpower him. Maybe he didn't want to kill her, but he surely wasn't going to allow her to escape.
The stark realization that it was possible for Draco to be in complete control of himself made everything worse. He was conscious of his actions at this moment, and completely aware of himself when not at the mercy of his own bloodlust. That meant that he had, in sound mind and body, agreed to do Voldemort's bidding, which included everything that had happened to her up until now, and whatever he would do to her in the future.
He leaned back on the floor and slowly turned to face her. The dark blood on his face contrasted with his pale blazing eyes, which were full of regret.
"I'm sorry," he said, clearing his throat. "I didn't mean for this to get out of hand."
Her throat hurt, her chest ached. Her whole body hurt, inside and out. She was spent, exhausted… and her heart had been broken. Much as she didn't want to believe it, she had lost him to the other side.
"What difference does it make? Isn't that what they wanted you to do?"
He flinched, and said, "Partly."
She blew a curl out of the line of her vision. "So, what are you going to do to me now?"
He turned back to her, searching her face for…what?
"That depends on you."
She let out a mirthless laugh. Of course. Give them answers and he'll let her live? Or spare her a painful torture? She would never have imagined an interrogation scenario like this in a million years. He hadn't even asked her any questions yet. Not about missions, locations, Horcruxes—nothing, and she already felt defeated.
This must be the beginning of the interrogation now. She was already light-headed and weakened from the blood loss. Seeing Draco again, changed and now working for those that he had despised just made her sick. He had probably told them of her feelings for him, which would be precisely why she was brought to him.
She didn't know how much more of this she could withstand. She already felt used and broken by his betrayal. She was physically, mentally, and emotionally spent. At this point, she didn't have the strength to resist an interrogation.
Being a strategist herself, she had to appreciate how well thought out the whole scenario was.
"Fuck," she muttered to herself.
Utterly exhausted, she allowed her eyelids to close. After doing her best for her friends, family, and the wizarding world, suicide didn't scare her. She was ready to die.
Good-bye Harry, good-bye Ron. And good luck.
Draco's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Do you still want to be a vampire?"