Harry Potter 1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Draco strode across the icy courtyard, his shined leather shoes clopping faintly against the stone floor as he headed towards the trail to Hogsmeade. The boy's breath erupted in plumes of smoke before his eyes, snow crunching underfoot. He buried his hands deeper into his pockets, his mouth slackened into a frown as he exited out into stark field of snow, its bare beauty disparaged by student's footprints. In the distance loomed the cobblestone fence that buttressed the Hogsmeade trail, dusted with snow that glittered like grains of sugar on a Parisian pastry. He gathered his gloved hands before his mouth and breathed onto the chilled digits, his attention stolen as he caught sight of several forms emerging ahead. The figures outlines crept forward as Draco plodded through the freshly fallen snow and as he neared, he recognized them.

"Crabbe, Goyle!" Draco called out, watching as the two boys tore pages from a book and let them drift into the snow below. Hermione Granger darted about, snatching the pages up, her face tear streaked and seething with frustration, the sodden pages pressed to her chest as she knelt in the snow, frantically searching for more. "What're you doing?" Crabbe and Goyle looked up at him thickly and dropped the book, their hands shooting into their pockets as they feigned innocence.

"Just having some fun," Goyle offered as Crabbe nodded stupidly in agreement. Hermione glared up at Draco for a moment, her eyebrows drawn together, cheeks slippery as glass in the overcast daylight. Malfoy's skin crawled under that steely stare, his mind suddenly sent off balance as he reluctantly made eye contact with the girl before she returned to her mangled papers.

"I'll speak to the both of you at dinner then," Draco snapped, gesturing towards Hogwarts with a gloved hand. Crabbe and Goyle shared a stunned gape before lumbering off towards the castle together, both glancing over their shoulders at the two, while their muddled voices bleated out words of bewilderment. Without saying a word to the girl Draco hunched forward and picked up what was left of the book, the broken spine sagging and damp as he turned it over and looked at the cover. Hermione seized _Cooking the Muggle Way_, from Draco's grasp and shoved the salvaged sheets inside. Draco fumbled for a question, an excuse to make her stay a moment longer, to make her see that he meant no harm. He cleared his throat quietly, afraid he might startle her, launch her into flight like a skittish mare.

"Why would you buy that book?" The boy asked carefully, his watch following the girl as she stood and blew on her naked fingers, the slick skin red and stiffened from the icy snow. The girl whipped around towards him like a storm, her calculating eyes narrowed and dangerous.

"Because I live with Muggles?" Hermione shot back angrily, stepping towards Draco, several snowflakes burdening her dark lashes. She knew his slippery ways and she would not accept it. Not again. "What would a mudblood girl need with a book like this, is that it?" The girl met his gaze, her brown eyes slick with watery resentment. And for a moment Draco wanted to reach out to her, comfort her. He was fascinated by the sight of her, even _attracted_ to her. But in the next moment he was burned, reprimanded by the shame that always arrived as an afterthought.

"Look, Granger," Draco muttered, trying to rid his voice of its accustomed sarcastic bite, "I was just trying to be decent to you."

"Piss off, Draco," The words shot from between her lips like leaden bullets, the acidity in her voice surprising the boy, "The book was a Christmas present for Mrs. Weasley." She abruptly turned and hurried through the drifts of snow towards Hogwarts. Hermione's jaw clenched as she wrapped her arms around her ruined present, her chin tucked to her chest as she braced against the gusting wind.

The boy's teeth gritted together, his stare following the girl as she drew further away, brown mane of hair blowing wildly in the breeze. He soaked in the memory of her for a thoughtless moment, the way her hair rolled down her shoulders to the small of her back, her serious, unwavering eyes, the slight blush that crawled from the bow of her neck down past her collar. Draco kicked at one of the forsaken pages as it quivered in the breeze, nothing more than a crumpled lump in the snow. His gut felt knotted, as it were a slab of taffy being wrapped around a wire, stretched to its limits and all because of Hermione. _That fucking girl_, he thought, _why her_?

Draco crouched before the fireplace in the Slytherin Commons, his tired eyes begging to close against the late night fatigue, the sockets lined with a delicate purple tint. _Twelve thirty_, his father had scrawled in his note, but it was nearing one and Draco's patience was drawing thin. The boy sat heavily and pulled his legs to his chest; his blonde head nodding slightly as he gave in at last and allowed his eyelids to sink shut.

"Draco," The ashes hissed, jolting the boy awake as the flames burst to life with a crackle and began to gleam a fierce crimson, "Is that you?"

"Yes, Father," The boy muttered, kneeling before hearth and staring down at the smoking remnants below, his grey eyes still glazed with sleep. The embers soon gave way and undulated like blood tinted waves to form Lucius Malfoy's weary face.

"Are we alone?"

"Yes."

"Good, Draco," The ashes whispered intently, the scarlet pupils scanning the boy with as Lucius drew a rasping inhale, "I haven't much time. Listen carefully; I have extraordinary news for you." Draco remained silent, a strange uncertainty swelling in his gut, his dreading heart thrumming beneath its mantle of bones. "The Dark Lord has finally decided to grant you a Dark Mark," The boy's stomach lurched as if he had received a kick in gut, his face nearly giving him away.

"How soon?" Draco choked out, trying to disguise the tremor in his voice, trying to swallow his encroaching fear.

"As soon as you are home again."

Draco stared blankly into his father's contorted face, his mind thrashing inside his skull, frantically searching for a way out. This fate had been hibernating for years, dormant and spoken of in whispers, whispers of _someday_ and _when you're older_. But now that time had come.

Draco's tongue curled in his mouth, heavily laden with a refusal he knew would go unsaid: _I don't want this_. There was silence between the father and son during which only the noise of the mocking embers remained.

"And that's it? Then I'll be a Death Eater?" Draco hissed the word _death eater _under his breath, his stomach clenching as it rolled off his tongue like molten lava, the truth of its implications burning in his gut.

"Yes," His father confirmed. The boy tasted sickness in his mouth, his limbs felt as if they were made of lead. _I don't want this._

"Someone's coming," Draco lied, his tongue heavy, head swarming with a infestation of doubt as he stood and stamped on the glowing embers that composed his father's face.

Draco sat on the cool marble staircase outside of the Great Hall, his mind deep in thought, his fingers busily turning over his wand in his hands. The boy's long legs stretched out before him, his shoulders rolled forward as he brooded over his sentence, a life he did not desire. But he had little say in the matter. For him, there was no _choice_. Suddenly, he heard the click of shoes trotting down the steps behind him and he raised his head, welcoming the disturbance as he left his worrying train of thought. Draco tucked his wand into his robes as the footsteps grew closer and then, abruptly stopped. He turned towards the sound just in time to see Hermione hurrying up the stairs, her robes billowing out behind her.

"Wait," Draco called after her halfheartedly, something in his stomach clenching and sending guilty jolts through his core, "Hermione!" He scrambled to his feet and followed the girl, surprised when she stopped at the top of the stairs and waited for him to catch up.

"What do you want?" Hermione breathed impatiently, drawing her books close to her chest and eyeing Draco as he stepped up next to her. Draco parted his lips to respond, but found his mouth impossibly dry, his tongue heavy with words he could not expel. _What did he want? Why had he called out to her_? He was drowning under her steady watch, floundering about in her shadow, gasping for breath as he tried to hold onto his wits. The boy silently chastised himself as his stare crawled over her downturned mouth, down to the alluring indent at the base of her neck, buttressed by the sweeping curves of her collarbones, like two broken wings.

"I just wanted," He paused; dreadfully wishing he could move closer, to breathe in the slender girl's scent, to see her crooked grin, "To apologize." Hermione's eyes searched his as her mouth pulled tight into a thin line of doubt.

"I'm sure," Hermione responded, turning to speed away again, a faint trace of uneasiness betraying her usual impassive expression. As she made to leave, Draco's will broke and the boy reached out a wide hand and placed it on her arm. Hermione instantly halted and looked down at his touch, reminding Draco immediately of the crudeness of his action with an incredulous stare,

"What are you doing?"

Draco withdrew his hand with such speed it was as if the girl was nothing more than a weaving flame, scalding his flesh at contact and branding him blameworthy. _She was impure. Nothing more than a mudblood girl. A stupid girl_. The boy's veins seemed to simmer, his mind choked by smoky ash from the girl's blistering watch. He tore his eyes away, despising the part of himself that wished to remain, that pleaded for another glance, just one more to suffice for long, empty night without her. The blonde's jaw tightened fiercely as he forced himself away, his feet blindly dragging him down the stairs, away from her and back to the dungeons.

_Mudblood_

The boy desperately repeated the word to himself as he charged forward into the dungeon's inked out blackness. He chanted the word under his breath like a prayer. But he wanted so much to find her again. To feel her, breath her in, taste her, salty on his lips.

_Mudblood_

Anger blistered in his gut, the struggle to control his wandering mind seemed hopeless. She sauntered back into his consciousness time and time again, a strange deviation sent to punish him for his wrongs. Draco entered the Slytherin Commons brimming with confusion, questioning himself under his breath,

"Why her?" The girl, the slant of her hips, a blush hovering at her cheeks. He wondered if that blush dipped lower, trickled like rain down into the valley between her breasts. Crabbe looked up from his seat in front of the crackling fire, the flames twisting before him into different shapes, his wand dancing before them, charming them like fickle cobras.

"Hullo, Draco," He called out thickly, a stray flame lapping at the tip of his wand and singeing the polished wood. Malfoy ignored Crabbe; instead he entered the boys' dormitory and slunk to his bed. His mind still churning along in a tunnel of emotions as he ripped off his shoes and hurled them against the wall. Draco drew the emerald curtains shut around his bed with a flick of his wand and then buried his pinched face in his palms. _What would his father think of this corrupt desire? Would he be banished even though he could help himself? Was that still a sin? _He sat in silence for some time, the heels of his hands pressed against his grey eyes, his hands raking through his blonde hair as she ran rampant through his thoughts. Hair curling to the small of her naked back, to the spot where two indents were tucked into her flesh like smiling dimples alongside her spine. A tempting smirk. Draco reclined onto the softness of his bed and with eyes shut his hand explored a blooming longing below his belt, lost in the swollen darkness of night. She turned to him, her skin nude and white. White like fresh steam, like seaside fog, like death's betrothed. Draco sat up, his hand darting away from his arousal, now slick with the consummated evidence of his perversion.

_Mudblood_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Draco paced towards the door of the room of requirement, miscellaneous objects whirring as he passed through the clutter. He grasped a green apple in his hand and halted before the door, searching for a place to stow the evidence. The boy hurried towards a jumbled shelf and set the apple down, a white wound in it glaring back at him. Draco buried the fruit under papers and a lamp shade, covering the bite mark on the apple's flesh. Quickly, Draco wiped his hand against his pants, sticky juice from his test branding him criminal. His stomach turned as it had earlier when the apple had reappeared in the cabinet, a chunk of the fruit missing; the hollow lined with sharp teeth marks. He had stood there before opening the doors, silently begging for it not to work in hopes that he could be free of this duty; this obligation that sank into his chest like a metal weight and made it difficult to breathe. But it _had_ worked, proving that the sister cabinet was almost repaired, almost ready to serve as a portal into Hogwarts. Just several months stood between him and the inevitable.

The boy passed through the doorway out into the deserted corridor, the only sound belonging to the crackling torches that lined the wall. Boughs of holly were coiled around the banister and the air smelled of faintly of pine as the boy descended to the sixth floor. It all reminded him of how little time he had left, how little freedom he had left. Lucius' words resounded in his son's mind, a_s soon as you are home again. _How proud his father had sounded, _proud of his Death Eater son_. Draco tried to take a breath to calm his nerves but was instead choked by the smell of pine sap and cloves. The boy swallowed down the sweet scent, his eyes tearing out of frustration. _As soon as you are home again_. Suddenly he began to tear at the red garlands, his actions punctuated by coughs, the pine needles tickling the pink flesh of his lungs, mocking him. He shredded the ribbons from the green, ripped the holly from the wall, kicked them as they lie in a jumbled heap. _But it wasn't good enough. It did not change anything._ Draco tossed the snapped decorations to the floor and exited out into the corridor. Draco reclined against the cool stone to catch his breath. And there he remained, looking down at the damp flooring; his blonde hair slightly disheveled, stray pieces falling over his forehead. _As soon as you are home again._

But then there were footsteps. At first far off in the dimness but they soon grew louder, closer. Draco quickly aimed his wand at the nearest lantern and whispered an incantation. The light hissed as it extinguished, swathing the boy in shadow. He watched silently, holding his breath, ready to flee if Filch was on the prowl, snatching up students out of bed past curfew. A figure rounded the corner and stumbled into the black abyss. He braced himself.

But then, she was there, stealing looks behind her back, hands combing nervously through her tousled hair, only the light from the window illuminating her path. Draco's heart immediately began a fitful palpitation, his future seeming very far away. The girl plunged into the darkness of the hall, eyes roaming aimlessly, meandering towards him like a twisted brook. Draco straightened his posture and crammed his hands deep into his pockets when finally, Hermione passed by him.

"Hermione," Draco blurted out, surprising the girl as she passed him, "What're you doing here?" Her skin glowed white and her image unfurled as she stepped beneath the moon's milky glow, like a white lily stretching under a starless sky.

Hermione spun towards the sound of his voice and stood, collecting her bearings, breathless and draped in shade,

"Why should I tell you, Draco?" The boy merely shrugged as he stepped from the shadows, the muted light washing over his sinewy features, illuminating his grey eyes. _Of course_, he thought to himself, what other reaction would have been possible.

"Don't then," Draco muttered, turning to leave. What had he foolishly expected? Had some part of him been waiting for her to stride forward and launch into his arms? Had he craved for the touch of her hand against his, the gentle shepherd moving his own palm over the simple arc of her breast? Wishes, that was all they were, irrational wishes.

"Fine," Hermione said, her fingers absently smoothing the pleats of her dress, "I was trying to get away from someone." Draco stopped in mid stride. She surprised him. He fought for a response though his mind was fading into a stupefied null,

"Who?"

"Cormac," Hermione replied curtly, exasperation evident in her tone, "Cormac McLaggen." The boy faced her,

"And why would you be running from your own boyfriend?"

"He is _not _my boyfriend!" Hermione instantly retorted, her cheeks now as bright red as her dress. The girl's eyes widened as he took another step towards her, his grey stare glinting as he drew nearer, his shoes slapping against the wet stone floor.

"Good," Was all the boy could think to say, his sentence trailing off, soon lapped up by the thirsty darkness. Hermione could feel his eyes on her, then his warm breath as he closed the space between them, his face suddenly millimeters away. Draco looked down at the girl's throat briefly, her skin bare, the hair swept behind of her sloping shoulders. He shifted his gaze back up to her confused eyes and wet his bottom lip leisurely in the silence, enjoying her bewilderment, her quickening breath, her apprehension. A final step towards the girl and she lifted her face towards him, her wide brown eyes resembling a doe.

"Good?" Hermione muttered, breaking the charm bound so tightly in the silence between them, "What are you saying?" There was no response, only the heat that radiated from his lean form and seeped over her skin. The girl pressed her back against the cool stone wall and allowed her hand to scale up his chest and brush against his cheek. Draco swallowed, his stare falling to Hermione's lips which glistened as if ripe cherry juice had dribbled from her mouth and stained the flesh. Her hand floated down the line of his angular jaw with ease, soft as a rose petal tumbling from its bud. _This is wrong,_ cried a murmur from within the boy's dizzy skull, _this is all wrong._ He bent his torso forward and breathed against Hermione's neck, his arms buttressing her as he rooted his hands against the clammy wall. The boy shuddered as her warm touch dropped to the center of his chest, just above his throbbing heart, his forehead wrinkling as he struggled to not gather her up in his arms. _He had to have her; it was as simple as that_.

His broad palm fit itself against her jaw and he tilted her face up to him with such tenderness, such care that Hermione was unsure if she was moving of her own free will or of his command. No one had ever touched her in such a way, so gently, so desirously. Hesitantly, Draco moved his lips to Hermione's and grazed against them, his hand running down the arc of her side, as if daring the girl to react. Hermione leaned forward as Draco pulled away, her body swept up by the undertow of his departing company. Her eyes flicked open almost immediately, her face soon flushed with embarrassment. She placed a willowy hand against his chest, her fingers trembling against his skin "What are we doing?" The girl whispered, her voice wavering like a withered leaf, shivering in the breeze of late fall.

"I don't know," Draco muttered, his fingers stroking the pretty blush that painted her skin, "All I know is that it feels good." Hermione slipped from beneath him and hurried several feet away, her arms instinctively folded over her chest, where they rose and fell with her steadying breath. She didn't want _this_, she didn't want _him_. She _couldn't_. "It feels right," Draco added awkwardly, the space between them growing greater with every fleeing moment. Hermione did not turn. She could not acknowledge his words. Especially when she could not find her own.

"I've got to be getting back, Draco. Goodnight." Draco then watched the girl go, slipping into the dark like the sun fleeing beneath the veil of night.

"Draco Malfoy," A hand clamped down on the boy's lean shoulder, a gruff voice startling him, "Out for a nighttime stroll are we?" Filch sniggered and jerked his catch down the hallway a pair of illuminated yellow eyes piercing through the darkness as Mrs. Norris bounded forward to lead the way. The knobbed hand closed tighter on Draco as he cooed to his pet, "Let's see what Professor Slughorn has to say about this, my sweet."

_He loomed over her, his face fogging as if seen through a dusty mirror. The boy leaned down to her naked breast, blonde threadlike hairs tickling the girl's skin as he dragged his moist lip over her breastbone. Draco returned to her, gossamer strands of white-blonde stuck to his sweaty brow, his lips moving leisurely, forming her name._ Hermione awoke suddenly from her dream, her heavy eyelids stirring as she ghosted away from the ebony folds of sleep. The girl buried her face in the scarlet pillow and bit down onto the cotton plush, her hands gathering tight fistfuls of sheet. She could not sleep, she could not write, she could not do bloody anything without _him_ permeating her thoughts. Hermione rolled onto her back, her delicate eyelids gradually fluttering shut as slumber teased her with a starlit tongue. The girl's hand released its hold of sheet and came to a rest on the flat plane of her stomach. _He haunted her. The smell of his skin, rich with cologne, held hostage by greedy clusters of golden hair._ Her fingers trailed timidly down to her bare inner thigh and unfurled like a blushing crocus in the first heat of spring. _His firm chest, pressed against hers, his broad palm slipping beneath her arched back, engulfing her into dreams._ The exploring extremity cascaded over her flesh, sauntering beneath the white, filmy cloth of her nightgown_. His voice, hushing her as it was huskily expelled on breaths that stirred the downy hairs at the nape of the girl's neck._ Wind lapped against the window, murmured it disapproval as Hermione slipped beneath the boundary of her underwear and into the warmth below. A curious want soon bloomed below the girl's gut, somewhere flushed and tingling. Somewhere foreign. The girl's hips began an uncertain roll into her touch, her free hand drawing her nightgown up above her hip and slithering to her breast. Hermione's pinkened lips separated as she freed a small, shuddering breath. Suddenly, the girl was startled by a fierce bout of wind, billowing against the window with the sound of a muffled drum. She sat up and tugged down her nightdress with embarrassment, her chests rising and falling as she steadied her breath in the shadows.

A quivering finger absently retraced the path of Draco's breath, across the stretch of her pink lips and over her flushed cheek. _His warmth smoldered against her neck, his tongue following the creases of her bottom lip, stirring something within her. _The girl clenched her eyes shut and buried her face into her hands,

"What's wrong with me?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Hermione paced down the hallway to the lavatory, lips set in a straight line as she mulled over a subject for her Charms essay. She kept her swift gait and pushed through the thick oak doors to the bathroom, barely realizing how unfamiliar the corridor seemed. The girl's hand ran over her tired eyes as she shuffled into the room and dropped her bag onto the floor. But then, Hermione's gaze became focused as she realized that she had stumbled into the boy's lavatory. Startled, the girl gathered her bag and hurried toward the door. But just as her hand fell against the grain of wood, she heard something. A soft whimper or perhaps, a stifled sob. The girl turned towards the sound and began to follow, placing each footstep more carefully than the last. She pressed herself against the wall and peered around the corner, every fiber of her being dynamic and ready to flee.

He stood there, hunched over the porcelain basin, slick face reflected in the mirror's sheen. Hermione watched as his back quaked with muffled cries, white shirt rolled up to his elbows, leaving his forearms exposed. The boy reached up to wipe his eyes with the back of his arm, glaring back into the glass as he straightened himself. Abruptly, his grey eyes locked onto the reflection of Hermione's where she peered out from behind the corner. Draco turned towards her, his eyes narrowing and his mouth twisting into a grimace as he was sucked in by her ethereal blaze, a moth testing the open flame. The girl stood in the archway, some of her thick brown hair gathered up by a barrette, a silver clasp that reflected the early morning sun as its rays poured down over her curls.

"I'm sorry," She stammered as the boy came towards her, "I'll go." Hermione spun towards the door, only to be stopped by a gentle touch on her shoulder.

"No," The beat of her footsteps abruptly ceased, her cloak swirling around her ankles as she paused, "Wait." Draco ushered her around to face him. The girl's eyes immediately dropped to the floor, her cheeks flushing with the stain of the criminal. She could not bring herself to look at him even as his gaunt hand tucked a loose curl behind her ear. Hermione's hand swiftly covered his. Draco could feel the warmth of her smooth palm radiating against his own skin and he swallowed, the breath caught in his throat as he began to tighten his hold on the supple flesh of her shoulder, daring her to meet his gaze. She finally looked up to meet his stern eyes, knowing his intentions certain were certain, _he would have her_. Hermione flinched under his watch, something inside her stirring amidst the want and setting her nerves on edge.

The boy staggered forward and kissed her openmouthed on the lips, exploring the lush texture of the girl's mouth with a relished slothfulness. She was all he had dreamed, she was as exquisite as he had feared and he found he was paralyzed by how faultless it all felt. _He despised himself for enjoying it as much as he did_. But the girl felt so right, her lips fitting perfectly against his like the setting sun fitting into the curve of a mountainous horizon line. Hermione could scarcely think or breathe, gagged by his embrace and stifled by his musky scent. But for just a moment, a thoughtless moment, she was lost. And contently so. Lost as his muggy breath poured down over her face, as his lips covered hers, leaving them damp and swollen, aching for more. The girl turned her cheek, denying him another kiss. Draco found her lips again despite her resistance, his movements hungry, frantic and full of long reserved need. "Why are you pretending that you feel nothing for me?" The boy whispered against her lips, his gut twisting with indignation, his lean muscles constricting against the girl.

"I don't," She breathed, air gushing hot between her lips as Draco pulled her towards him in one rough motion, his wan fingers wrapping around her thin wrist as he brought her form against his.

"You're lying, Granger," He returned. Hermione gasped as he jerked her forward into an awkward embrace, his sinewy arm cradled around the small of her back. Draco inched closer to the girl and pressed his lips tenderly to hers, a low sigh heaving from his throat as he pulled away momentarily. The pair remained unmoving a moment, Draco's mouth resting open as he searched Hermione's brown eyes, his arm contracting around her, bringing her closer like a python coiling around its victim. Hermione did not deny him; instead she kissed him back, tentative at first but then more eagerly. His hands roamed lower to the dipping curve of Hermione's back, his tongue forcing entry past the delicate gate of her lips. The girl's arms linked behind Draco's neck, her body relaxing as if she were melting into his contours, an even warmth spreading through her expanse. _A thrill._ Draco was completely enveloped by pleasure. He had her, pressed against him in the sweetest way. He could feel the breath entering her lungs, her chest expanding and deflating under his broad palm. _As soon as you are home again_. He could smell the sweetness remaining on her skin, the tint of her waving curls, almond and honeysuckle perfume. _As soon as you are home again_. He could taste the orange marmalade lingering on her lips from breakfast, the matchless flavor of her tongue welcoming his own. _As soon as you are home again_. And then finally, he pulled away, all of her loveliness separating from him, his body chastising him, beating him from within, his gut twisting in reluctance.

"We can't do this," Draco muttered as he smoothly unwound Hermione's arms from around his neck and dropped his hold, taking a step away, his lips slick, evidence of their kiss still fresh on his mouth.

"I want to, Draco," Hermione admitted, the words exiting the entrapment of her teeth before she could think any better of it. There was a moment of silence between the two, the dank bathroom sounds seeming to pause, afraid to break the stillness.

"Say it again," Draco lunged forward at the girl, his broad palms cupping her warm cheeks as he kissed her, Hermione's hand pressed to the back of his neck. He stumbled against her awkwardly, her back hitting the wall, his hand curling around her waist as he gasped for breath between kisses, a slippery smile sliding between Hermione's lips.

"I want you," Hermione confessed frantically, leaning back into the stone, her free hand joining its mate around Draco's neck, her back arching as Draco kissed down her neck to the blush creeping up from her chest. Draco sought her hand blindly and linked it with his, the fingers intertwining as he pinned the arm above Hermione's head, his other hand greedily seeking the yielding flesh of her breast. Draco pulled apart from the girl, her quick breath suddenly audible, his nose touching hers as he searched her ample brown eyes. He reached down and grabbed her bottom roughly for a moment and then ran his hands down her thigh, guiding it up and holding it against his hip, the delicate pleats of her skirt falling away. Draco pushed his hips against the white undergarments. Hermione's eyes shut as Draco kissed up her neck to her ear where he stopped and lightly bit the earlobe, his tongue then painting down her jaw. As his hands searched for purchase, wandering the slopes of her body, he realized that he could no longer deny himself. This was what he wanted and what he _would_ have. At any price.

"Mr. Malfoy," A voice drawled from behind suddenly, its deep tones eerily familiar, causing the two to freeze, locked together in their embrace, "If you would please, meet me in my office once you've composed yourself." Draco swiftly pulled away from Hermione and turned towards the noise, his gut sinking when he confirmed his own fears and the black tail of the Potion's Master's robes slunk out of the bathroom. Hermione stepped towards Draco, flattening her skirt anxiously and hurriedly fixing her hair,

"Should I go with you?" She asked quietly, drawing her robes together and crossing her arms, her eyes studying the spot where he had disappeared. Draco nodded without turning to her, not wanting her to see the fear prickling his eyes like ice, not wanting to her to see how his face contorted in shame.

"No," He responded sternly, "I'll be fine." Hermione watched as Draco slipped from the room and then bit her lip, her mind still buzzing with pleasure, her skin subject to the roaming ghost of Draco's touch. She remained in the bathroom a moment longer and then made her way out towards Charms, wondering all the while if Draco truly would be, _fine_.

Draco stepped into Snape's office, his jaw clenched and his chin lifted as the Professor motioned him in, while inwardly his knees were knocking, his chin trembling, his hands shaking once again. He took a seat in the chair before Snape's broad desk, resting against the plush back and staring back at Snape coldly.

"Draco," Snape began, his wide hands resting on the wood before him, the sallow color against the dark making them look like two massive albino spiders, biding time until they seized their prey, "I'll have to deduct thirty house points for your inappropriate behavior as well as assigning you several detentions." Draco sneered at his sentence,

"But sir," He replied insolently, testing the man's patience, "What've I done?" Snape's look soured even further,

"You know what you've done, Draco." Draco tried to look innocent as he folded his hands to cover the tremor of his left, his anxiety finally permeating the surface. Snape stood, the deep groan of his chair being pushed back resonating throughout the office,

"What would your father say?" He spat, looming over the desk, his shoulders rolling forward as he glared down the boy, "What would he do if I told him about the disgrace I just stumbled upon?" Snape's voice was stark and harsh, "Think of what he would do," He paused and leaned closer to Malfoy, staring down at him past his hooked nose, "If he knew that it was, Granger. All of this nonsense over a mudblood slut." Draco's muscles tensed, his body wanted nothing more than to curse him, to feel the satisfaction of bone crunching under his touch, to hear the pain quivering between his vocal folds as he begged for forgiveness.

"I'm afraid I don't know," Draco hissed back, lifting his upper lip in disgust as he finished, "Sir." Snape prowled closer, coming around his desk and standing before Draco,

"Oh, yes you do," Snape bent down so that his cold eyes were level with Draco's, his greasy black hair falling like a veil around his face, "You know exactly what he can do, when provoked." Snape withdrew himself and paced back around to his seat and lowered himself into it, his sullen eyes suddenly seeming weary.

"I'll see you Monday then," Snape said flatly as he leaned back into his chair, "Seven o'clock, detention." Draco stood hastily, his mouth pressed into a strained line of displeasure as he turned to leave. "Oh, Draco," Snape added sullenly, "Be grateful for that warning." Draco clamped his fists, refusing to turn towards the man as Snape finished his thought, "For many do not get that luxury."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

The days without her bled into a pointless expanse. The ones in her company seemed to be missing hours of time, never quite long enough. Draco began to grow used to their secret meetings which flourished with unknown touch, laughter, conversation. Hours of kisses and yet hers remained as sweet, her smiles as precious, her silences as revealing. But as the days began to slink deeper into the shadows of winter something else lay heavier on his mind.

She dropped down and lay sprawled in his lap, biting her fingernail, a stony expression set on her face. The expression she wore when thinking, drifting somewhere far away. Hermione heaved a sigh and her gaze turned to Draco, to study him. Always calculating, always search for something buried from sight, something to unearth and call her own.

"What's the matter?" Draco asked the girl cautiously, eyes resting on hers, only daring to do so for a fleeting moment, still afraid of denial. Hermione sat up, drawing her knees close to her. The girl wondered for a moment if this would be the right time to tell him, _to hell him how she felt_. How she often dreamed of purging herself of the flatteries she so wished to adorn him with. But she was stuck in silence that swallowed them both between kisses. And her praises were omitted. "You don't have to answer that if you don't want," Draco amended, feeling awkward as the hushed stillness expanded between them, suffocating the boy.

"No, I want to," Hermione said, turning towards Draco, her legs sliding down onto the stone floor, knock kneed and gangly, "I like talking to you. Telling you things." Draco found himself mute, unable to loosen his tongue, his heartbeat in his ears like thunder rumbling through a summer sky. The boy wondered for a moment if this would be the right time to tell her, _to tell her how he felt_. "It's easier than with any of my other _friends_." Draco's gut pitched forward. Friends was what she had said. Friends.

"Really?" He asked, beguiling his hurt with a halfhearted smile.

"Yes," Hermione answered instantly, _honestly_. Her look pleaded with him, every filament of her being begging to lean forward and steal the breath from his lips, to taste him once more, one more moment to last her what promised to be an incessant night without his company. Draco watched the girl, her expression determined and for a moment it looked almost as if she wanted him to kiss her. This frightened him. _Friends._

"I've got to get to bed, Hermione." Draco moved to stand but Hermione grappled for his hand,

"Wait!" Draco pulled away, his fingers awkwardly brushing over her breast but then leaping away from the flesh, a sudden shame in a once familiar action.

"I'm so sorry," The boy murmured, his face flaming as he ran his hand over his jaw, hiding his humiliation. He had known that the rejection would come sooner or later. Now he was forced to face it, to accept it. _Friends_. But he had hoped, he had dearly hoped for her admiration. Even her love.

Hermione lifted her hand to where she felt his touch, her fingers searching, blossoming like an anemone caught in the swirl of the sea.

"No, please," Hermione whispered, taking his hand in hers and retracing the place where he had strayed. Her thumb fitting into the hollow of his cheek her eyes fondly gauging him, "Stay with me, just a few moments more," she smiled, "I'm hardly tired at all." With a watchful fascination, the girl's middle finger began to wander over the still damp trail of Draco's lips until it came to a stop. It hung there inelegantly, the boy's jaw twitching as he worked up the nerve to meet her gaze. The pair stewed in the silence and the heat of their contact. Neither of the two dared to move from the spot, stunned by their own act of intimacy. After what seemed to be ages, Draco's grey eyes brushed open, his lips parting and allowing the delicate instrument between his teeth, over his tongue. The girl observed him, absorbed by his every action, watching as she sunk into the moist cavern of his mouth and suddenly, she was breathless. Something in him beamed as he distinguished what was buried in her brown stare, a certain lust, a certain yearning that did not belong to _friends_. He closed his lips around her for a moment and she met his look. Hermione slipped from within him and then touched her lips to the boy's thin pair, her eyes remaining open, stealing the secret of him as he melted into her kiss. Draco's fingers worked between the locks of her hair, skimming down the creases that embraced her spine. Without thought, the boy parted from her and traced back over the girl's breast bone, where a thudding rhythm echoed, refusing to be ignored.

"I can feel your heartbeat," The pale boy's cheeks bloomed red as soon as the words escaped, his hand drifting away just as Hermione moved to cover it. Something leaden, something scalding seemed to be solidifying in the pit of his stomach. Something beautiful and pleasant like the first warm gasps of spring as winter relinquishes its icy hold. He knew that this was it. There was no escape. _He was enraptured._ Then the boy felt a tender weight on his chest, just above where his heart throbbed in embarrassment,

"And I feel yours."

"How is school then, darling?" Narcissa asked to fill the void, her knife and fork busily sawing away at the meat on her dish. Draco stared down into his half-empty plate as he dragged his knife in endless circles, his other hand cupping a heavy silver goblet, his finger tapping against it absentmindedly. "Darling?" His mother prodded, looking across the table at him, her lips pursing as he did not reply.

"Draco," Lucius barked from the head of the table, his jaw locking in annoyance, "Answer your mother. She's gone to such trouble to prepare this lovely Christmas dinner, show her respect." Draco looked up and wet his lips, uncertain of the question that had been asked,

"Yes, right," He cleared his throat as he cast a sideways glance towards his father, "Lovely dinner, Mum." Narcissa wiped her mouth, her mouth pressed into a thin line as she too eyed Lucius, her husband's face strained and fatigued,

"Thank you, Draco." Lucius set down his silverware with frosty precision, the stress of the past year draped heavily over his features, a dark stubble covering his cheeks and chin.

"The Dark Lord has been called away, Draco," The boy's father looked down into his goblet, dark circles hanging like waning moons below his eyes, "Something about attending to a halfhearted follower that may have given away important information." Narcissa glanced up as she popped a bit of veal into her mouth, the gray lighting of the room reflected on her skin, making her look ill, almost as if she was rotting in the grave, decaying where she sat. "I'm afraid he will not be able to bestow you with the Dark Mark until a later date, my son."

"Really?" The boy fumbled for the words, for the appropriate inflection of his tone but he was at a loss, "What a shame."

"Lucius," Narcissa murmured, cutting off her son, her tired eyes suddenly wary as she stared down the table at him, "I hardly think that this is appropriate discussion for the dinner table."

_The girl. The girl was his every thought. She consumed his wandering mind and filled, fit to burst. Memories of her: laughing, merry as the rolling flames of a hearth, quick witted retorts, sharp as the a needle prick to the unsuspecting, soft sighs, as delicate as a sparrow ruffling its feathers against a storm. _Draco fought back a smile. A later date. He had more time to find a way out, to free himself, to be with _her._

"Narcissa, please," Lucius raised a sinewy hand, the fingernails overgrown, his gaze patiently locked on Draco who remained mute, staring down into his plate. The man stood deliberately and leaned forward over the table, his greasy white blonde hair falling in front of his face like a drawn curtain. "Is there," He paused, his voice barely more than a cold whisper, "Something to be happy about, Draco?"

"I don't know," Draco started fearfully, his eyes flicking to his mother, "I suppose not." Narcissa tore her worried stare from her son, her chest heaving as she watched Lucius growing more irritated by the moment.

"Really? Because I don't recall hearing anything pleasant in that bit of news and yet," The man's voice grew deathly taciturn though its volume remained so that it commanded every listener to strain to hear it, "You seem to think otherwise."

Draco remained hushed, his stomach clenching as his father finally paced over and stepped behind his chair, setting his hands on his son's thin shoulders.

"I'm glad," The boy muttered, unable to lift his gaze and meet his mother's dazed gawk, his father's tired glare, "I've never wanted to be a Death Eater, Father. It's you and mum who decided that it was right for me."

"Don't be foolish son," Lucius breathed, a dangerous composure hidden in his tone, "The Dark Lord is bestowing the greatest of honors upon you and you shall accept it _willingly_." An image of Hermione flooded into Draco's mind, his heart quickening as the girl shot him a twisted smile.

"No."

"You've never spoken like this before,"

"I've never had a choice!" Draco bellowed down into his food, his fist tightening around the stem of his glass.

"And what makes you think that you have one now?" Lucius hissed, stirring the hairs on the back of Draco's neck, releasing a shudder down the wobbling road of his spine.

"Because I'm in love, Father and I want _none_ of this for her." Draco spat, causing a stony laughter to erupt from his father which spurred into an erratic rage the next moment,

"Do not insult me with wild notions of _romance_!" Lucius' voice echoed through the vast dining room, a fleck of spit hitting Draco on the cheek, but the boy did not dare to look up at his father who was now backing away, slightly shocked by his own temper. "I've heard of your little slut, Draco. Severus came to me as quickly as he could." Narcissa swallowed tensely but did not return her son's pleading gaze, did not object to Lucius' rising tone. "I am entirely grateful for his honesty. He of all men knows how _mudbloods_ can corrupt even the strongest of men."

"Don't call her that," The boy sputtered, "She's nothing like the rest..."

"Stand up, boy." Draco obeyed, stepping towards his father."Say it," Lucius said threateningly, "Call your whore by her true name, _mudblood_." Draco gritted his teeth, his voice trembling as he fought to remain composed, to show his father how strong he could be,

"I will not, Father." Before the words could fully exude from Draco's lips his father rushed forward, his wand aimed at a Draco's goblet.

"Bombarda!" Lucius barked, the goblet exploding and spitting deep red wine into the air. The red wine spilled onto the floor, dribbling over the table's edge like rich blood, spreading over the white table cloth, leeching before Narcissa Malfoy whose eyes were wide with terror. "You will not insult me with such pigheadedness," the man growled, his hand seizing a handful of silvery hair and tugging harshly upwards, drawing a rasping breath from his child.

"I will never be you, Father," Draco muttered between his bared teeth, his eyes snapping closed as his father yanked his head back, his wand pointed at the boy's bared throat. Narcissa stood abruptly, her chair clattering against the floor as it toppled backward,

"Lucius, please!"

"Silence!" Lucius roared, the tip of his wand creating an indent as it pressed against Draco's throat, "He would kill you, Draco, if you refused," He ignored Narcissa's hushed sobs and forged on, "The Dark Lord does not pity the weak willed and you, my Son, are no exception." His lips curled into a snarl, "I will not allow you to defile the Malfoy name!" Lucius relinquished his grasp and took a shaky step away, Draco's hand rubbing his neck, red from the pressure of his father's wand. "You will fulfill the task the Dark Lord has set out before you," Lucius voice was slightly more weary, his mouth falling into a frown, "And you will not speak a word of this uncertainty." Draco swallowed, anger swelling in his gut, Hermione laughing behind his eyes, leaning into his touch, mouthing his name, her words buried deep in his skull.

"And the girl? What of Hermione? You cannot possibly separate me from her!" Lucius turned and looked back up at his son, his eyes glazed and glaring with an unfamiliar madness. In three brisk strides he closed in on his son,

"Crucio!" Draco crumpled to ground, his mind swallowed up into darkness, a suffocating, cold darkness where there was nothing but pain. Lucius watched as his son writhed on the ground before him like a maggot. Narcissa rushed over to the boy, shrieking for her husband to stop as Draco convulsed on the floor below, his father watching with a docile sneer. Finally, he ended the spell and Draco awoke panting, a dizzying hum filling his ears, his head clouded by the pain, Hermione's voice haunting him still.

Draco rolled over and retched onto the ground, his mother's nervous hands flitting over him all the while. Lucius' arm wobbled, his wand falling from between his fingers as he gaped at his son, his eyes suddenly returning to the wet and tired ones of a decrepit old man. He looked down at his boy and wet his lips nervously, his rasping breath mixing with his wife's. "If you do not wish her to know that pain," Lucius murmured, rushing to his son's side as regret that always followed began to rush over him, "Then you will abandon all thoughts of her, you will stand by the Dark Lord's side as he grants her a merciful death. Do not give him reason to torture her, Draco. Do not protest as the tainted blood runs from her veins, remain faithful when the time comes for her to be killed, along with all other blood traitors." Draco wiped his mouth with his arm, a wretched look inking over his features as he pushed away his mother's anxious hands and sat up, his body shivering from the lingering pain. "This was for your own good, my son," Lucius mumbled, reaching out his hand towards his son, the bony extremity illuminated by a pale sliver of moonlight. The man looked down at his open palm and shut it immediately, his stubble covered chin beginning to quiver. Lucius stumbled backward, slipping in the pool of wine on the floor, his grey eyes widening in realization, "You will understand in time."

A/N: Thank you all for being so patient! I hope this chapter was worth the wait and I promise there is a lot more to come. Reviews always help so leave one if you have time


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

The boy made his way down the hall and past the portrait of the Fat Lady who was snoring loudly in her frame. He turned towards the stairs, but suddenly, there was a noise from the stone steps. Draco hurried back around the corner and slipped behind a suit of armor, trying to flatten himself as he vigilantly listened. Several pairs of feet shuffled up the stairs, one by one, tired, light steps that slowed as they reached the top. Draco held his breath as three figures came into view and passed by him, chatting busily amongst themselves.

"I've got loads to do," The tallest said as he approached the portrait of the Fat Lady, his red hair glinting copper in the firelight, "Do you think you could help me get some Charms work done before bed, Harry?" Harry strolled behind him and whispered the dormitory password under his breath, his hand lifting his glasses as he rubbed the bridge of his nose wearily,

"Sure," The third figure stalled and turned towards where Draco was hiding, her eyes roving the spot and narrowing as she peered past the metal, "Hermione, have you done yours yet?" The girl snapped back towards her friends and stuttered her reply,

"Er, I think I have," She shifted on her feet uneasily and cleared her throat, "But I've forgotten my book in the library, I've got to run and get it before bed." Ron pushed the entrance to the Gryffindor commons open and Harry climbed through, disappearing into the dark.

"I'll come with you if you want," Ron offered awkwardly, ignoring the awakened portrait's drowsy complaints. Hermione shook her head and backed up a step,

"No, you've got work to do. I'll be fine." Ron yawned in acceptance and stepped into the dormitory, swinging the Fat Lady's painting shut behind him. Hermione turned and watched as Draco slid from behind the suit of armor, her cheeks tugging upwards as she hid a smile.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked, pushing her hair behind her ear, dodging his look, "It's after hours, Draco." The blonde ran a hand over his mouth as he searched for an excuse but quickly dropped his hand as he caught a faint odor of apple.

"I came to see you," He blurted out, grimacing as Hermione smiled, despite his deceit and pulled him into an embrace, accepting his lie entirely.

"I missed you," Hermione murmured, resting her head against his chest, shutting her eyes contentedly as Draco rested his cheek on the top of her head. Draco encircled the girl with his arms, slowly forgetting his guilt as he breathed in the scent of Hermione's hair, as his hands played down the slope of her back. His lips found their place at the scoop of the girl's neck and he slipped his hand under her sweater lazily in the quiet corridor, dappling her flesh with kisses. Hermione bowed away from his touch and pressed her hands to his chest, separating their bodies,

"I've got to go in," She said quietly, sighing as Draco brushed her hair over her shoulder and continued on, "I was just about to go to bed." Draco chuckled throatily against her skin, his hand seeking hers in the dimness,

"Come with me," He begged, breath tickling Hermione's ear as she looked towards the Fat Lady, again sleeping in her frame, "Just for a bit." Hermione chewed on her lip for a moment but finally nodded, her fingers intertwining with his in unspoken agreement.

The two sped down several flights of stairs, stopping at the fifth floor, their hands still linked as Draco led Hermione past the statue of Boris the Bewildered to a large portrait. Inside the picture frame drowsed a young woman with sharp yet beautiful features, the witch's dark black hair flowing down the inner boundary of the golden frame, licking and twisting like ivy stretching towards the sun. Hermione watched as Draco pulled the picture towards himself and one side of it swung on hinges away from the wall, opening a small hidden passageway. Draco climbed into the dim hallway and turned, helping Hermione up and then carefully shutting the entrance behind them.

"Is this really alright, Draco?" Hermione whispered as they entered Slytherins' Common Room, the green glow of enchanted firelight washing over the girl's pale skin like diseased moonlight. She dropped Draco's hand as they came further into the room, its high ceilings rolling out before them, a faint luminosity exuding from the lanterns that lined the walls.

"I don't think I'm _allowed_ in here," Hermione mused, sitting down on a large black, leather sofa, feeling quite out of place. The girl turned towards the intricately fashioned fireplace, her stare traversing over the winding serpents that were engraved into the stone mantle.

"As long as you're with me," Draco murmured, his eyes following the contours of the girl's bare neck, gliding over the softly lit, straining sinews, "You'll be fine." Hermione twisted to gaze at the mounting flames, clearing her throat, hoping to drive away the twanging of her galloping pulse, a strange restlessness swelling in her gut as the silent moments hummed by. She watched the flames grow higher in their nest of wood, twist and writhe like a phoenix unfurling its broad wings. Suddenly, a log crackled, belching a fit of embers out into the air and causing the girl to startle, her fingernails digging into the leather in reflex. Hermione laughed, embarrassed. The quiet gobbled the stillness between them, feeding the still like oxygen to a flame. The girl gasped when she turned and saw Draco, already seated on the couch beside her, his face centimeters away. Breath spilled from between his parted lips and over her skin like the fog billowing in from the sea as morning broke. She gaped up at him, leaning away from the boy as she took note of the fierce expression in his eyes, a strange, wild determination.

"Draco?" The girl breathed, her hand settling flat against his chest as she followed his roaming gaze, down over her freckled cheeks to the buttons that climbed up her chest. "Draco," She started again, but the boy silenced her, his lips burnt against hers, his hands snaking through her tousled brunette locks as her pushed her to him with fervency. Hermione shoved him away and turned her cheek, her brown eyes half lidded as she looked down at the carpeted floor. "Please," She whispered breathlessly, the boy forcing his hand beneath the material of her shirt and letting his fingers scale the flat plane of her stomach, "I don't know if we should." Draco laughed, ran his teeth over the girl's earlobe and pushed her down onto the black couch, his expert limbs holding her down with a gentle intensity.

"Everyone's asleep, Hermione," He answered, tugging his sweater over his head and dropping the clothing on the floor. He watched as Hermione unbuttoned her shirt, his hands spreading the folds of fabric and exposing her breasts, pushing the fabric down over the elegant curve of the girl's shoulders. Draco's tongue was warm against Hermione, his lips devouring the newly exposed flesh, soon returning to eye level and pressing his forehead to hers, his stare confident and secure.

She gazed up at him, his pale, pointed face, lines marking his young forehead, keepsakes of worry, the burdens he carried imprinted on his features. The blonde's hands slid down the girl's thighs and guided them apart, his fingers stealthily slipping beneath her underwear. Hermione's hand shot down to her inner thigh, smoothing her skirt over her crotch and sitting up. Draco looked up at the girl's wary expression and withdrew his hand.

"What," He dared, more harshly than he had intended, his hand already slipping back down the slant of Hermione's pelvis, "Are you afraid of me?"

"No," She whispered back, trying to prove herself by fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, "I'm not afraid."

"Then what is it? C'mon Granger, don't try and deny it," The blonde hissed against her neck, his lips soon dipping down to taste the flesh of her collarbone, "You want me." Draco loomed over the girl where she lay, sprawled on the sleek black sofa, her breath already quickened, her eyes flickering over his lips with demure curiosity. Without a word she ran her hand up her thigh, bunching the fabric of her flowing skirt, revealing the virginal skin beneath. She continued in silent answer to his challenge, until she coiled her arms around his neck and pulled him into a hungry kiss, a small moan escaped from the girl's mouth as they parted, her brows drawn together in passion. She wasn't sure if she wanted to admit it to him, but she _did_ want him, completely, totally. Instead she took his hand and laid it on her breast, covering his hand with her own.

The boy looked down to his hand and then back up at her, a wicked smirk struggling between his lips. He slipped his arm around her waist and lifted her slightly from the couch, her back arcing off the plush, his hot breath tickling the hair at the nape of the girl's neck. Draco tugged Hermione's underwear down over her hips and then hefted her back into his arms, lying above her. Straying hands climbed from the girl's knee up her thigh and finally beneath her skirt. "Say that you want me," The boy commanded, his hand coasting up her inner thigh, his arm curling around her, pressing her against his chest as he teased her. She broke their shared gaze, her eyes downcast, cheeks growing pink as she explored a foreign pleasure.

"I want you," She confessed, her voice low and tentative. Draco's free hand took hold of the girl's freckled face, forcing her to look at him.

"Look at me when you say it," His words rumbling out as almost a growl.

"I want you, Draco," She stammered, her thoughtful eyes wild with fear, with conviction. Her fingernails skimmed the smooth skin of Draco's back until suddenly he plunged his fingers into her, drawing a rasping moan from within, "Please, don't stop." Hermione tilted back her head as Draco kissed her furiously, his fingers grabbing hold of her thick hair and baring the cream expanse of her neck. Suddenly, there was a delicious pressure below. The boy followed it to see Hermione's hand, caressing his bulge through the material of his pants. Draco released a gushing breath, surprised by the girl's boldness. The unexpected did not end there; Hermione's hands undid his belt and smiled coquettishly, gripping the throbbing erection within. What he had once believed to be a virginal creature was flourishing into a seductress before his eyes. The boy wondered how many others she had been with, but only for a fleeting moment as the girl's hands tried to push his unbuttoned shirt down over his shoulders.

_All eyes were on him. His father nudged him forward into the center of the ring. Draco's hands fumbled at the buttons of his shirt, his movements choppy as he tried to control his trembling fingers. He slid the shirt off and dropped it on the floor. There was a snicker. The boy dared not turn to see who laughed, instead he proceeded forward. Each step felt as if it spanned a lifetime, his feet grudgingly shuffling over the hardwood floor, closer to his ruin. _

"_Draco," The monster hissed, turning his wand over in his pallid hands, his eyes glimmering with elation, "Finally the day has come." Draco looked up at Lord Voldemort; the boy's pointed face had no color left in it, instead dread leaked from every pore. Fear consumed him, a demon with an evil grin, licking its meaty lips as it lurked just feet away. This was his duty, his fate. He had surrendered to it. _

"_Are you afraid, my boy?" The words oozed from between Lord Voldemort's thin, grey lips. _

"_No." Draco lied. _

"_Are you prepared to join my army of Death Eaters?"_

"_Yes." Draco lied. _

"_Very well," The distorted man hissed after a moment, his lips spreading to reveal a yellowed smile. One boney finger beckoned the boy closer. Draco staggered towards the horrific leader and dropped to his knees, lifting his left arm as an offering. Lord Voldemort's fingers closed around the flesh like talons, his wand hovering just above the porcelain complexion of Draco's forearm. The boy tucked his chin to his chest and gritted his teeth in preparation for the pain he knew would follow. Pain that his father had been unable to describe when asked. A pain that would undoubtedly change him forever. _

_The Dark Lord touched the tip of his wand to the boy's flesh, immediately causing him to cry out in pain. Draco's hand lurched forward in attempt to tear free, the smell of his own burning flesh filling his nostrils as wand tip traced a skull over its canvas, charring what it touched. Lord Voldemort's grin widened, his other hand brushing away Draco's searching fingers like an interfering fly. There was no blood, merely a cavernous trail, half an inch deep, the muscle red and angry where it lay exposed. When he had finished sketching the mark the man bowed forward over the incision and opened his mouth. _

_Draco gaped up at the Dark Lord, the color drained from his sweat dappled face, his breath coming in rasps. A swollen glob of spit dropped from Voldemort's mouth into the open wound as if he were expelling venom. Smoke exuded from the contact, the saliva turning black as ink. He rubbed it into the carving in slow circles, Bellatrix watching over his shoulder. The woman wet her lips, her eyes intent on the work being done, her hand playing over her corset, traversing her heaving breasts as she surveyed. Draco's arm seared, his hand clutching his pants as he fought not to rip himself away as the black mark was being rubbed into place. The Dark Lord looked down at his handiwork, at the boy who quaked beneath him, his breath coming in labored waves. Before he could stop it Draco felt warmth over his cheeks and chin, blurring his vision as tears dripped down his face and his body was wracked by shivers. The man frowned at the sniveling boy and swiftly kicked him in the gut, causing him to collapse onto the floor with a whimper. Draco's eyelids sunk closed and he fell into the merciful hold of unconsciousness, his arm weeping tainted pus. His mind far away from the pain. His mind with the girl. _

_He awoke to voices. Voices he knew but could not distinguish. Draco lay immobile, too weak to open his eyes. His body burned with fever and his arm throbbed at his side. _

"_I'll watch over him, Narcissa," A voice crooned at his side, filled with artificial sweetness, "Auntie Bella will take good care of him." Draco's eyes opened a slit as footsteps left the room, cruel sunlight snapping them shut immediately. "Our little hero is awake, I see." The irony in Bellatrix's tone was biting. The woman wiped a bead of sweat from her nephew's forehead with her calloused finger. Draco's vision was cloudy at first, but things slowly began to come into focus, the light of the room making his head ache but that pain was nothing compared to the pain in his arm. The boy glanced down at his forearm and then immediately away. The tattoo was set in place, the skin around greying as if he were rotting alive. Purple lines detailed his inflamed veins, pumping the poison of the Dark Lord's saliva through his blood. He felt nauseated and shut his eyes, Bellatrix hushing him from her seat on the bed next to her nephew. _

"_Shhh," She cooed, stroking over the tender spot, causing the boy to flinch, "Auntie Bella will take good care of you." The woman's gaze did not leave the mark, her eyes filling with jealousy and lust. Bellatrix ran her finger over the swollen wound, playfully skimming over the still raw flesh, Draco grunting in pain. "Oh no," His aunt whispered, mesmerized, "Kiss to make it better, love?" She bowed forward and opened her lips, the cracked skin touching the purple and black tattoo. With a gushing sigh she dragged her bottom lip over the marking, letting them touch her tongue slowly taste the skin where the Dark Lord's saliva has been hours ago. Draco's body locked up, he no longer had the strength to fight back. _

Draco reacted immediately, brushing away her hands from the secret of his forearm and readjusted the material, distracting the girl instead by guiding her leg around him and letting it rest on his back. He left his mark on her skin, tender, ruddy blossoms painted across the flesh as weaving between her thick curls and tugging her head back so that she stared up at him.

"Please," The girl whispered, letting out a small whimper as the boy's tongue skimmed over her nipple, "Please, I have to have you inside me _now_." Draco rose to meet her gaze, his hands working below his belt the whole while, freeing himself. The flames played about in the fire, casting devilish shadows onto the girl's pert, heaving breasts which fell and rose with mounting anticipation.

"You're sure?"

"Yes," Hermione breathed, welcoming Draco's lips against hers. Her eyes shut and her lips lazily parted as the boy nipped at the skin of her neck, his smoldering tongue painting along her angled jaw. Draco lifted the delicate skirt and positioned himself at the girl's entrance, he fought to control his actions, to go slowly even as he was aching to be inside. Before Hermione could draw another breath he had sunk into her and before she could exhale the dull pain had given way to pleasure as he moved within her, above her, around her. The blonde boy's eyes shut, his face buried against the girl's neck, he pulsated further into her, triggering a small groan from the girl.

"Quiet, love," Draco hushed, his hand covering her mouth until the noise died and she bit down on the skin of his palm before he removed it. Hermione gasped as Draco undulated forward more rapidly, her ribs heaving with her quickening breath as Draco bent forward over her and fit his hands over her hipbones. The girl's fingers dug into the leather as Draco bent over her further, her hair falling across her face, tendrils sticking to her wet lips as her back arched into the penetration. Then there was an exquisite scream of release. From her, from him as they fell into to each, plummeting deeper with each thrust.

Gradually, her shuddering breaths came slower, as did Draco's, their bodies still touching as the fire crackled in the hearth. The silence was busy, filling both of their ears, words seeming strange in the soundless void, skin to skin, Draco could feel the girl's pattering heartbeat against his hand as his fingers trailed down her sweaty chest, his eyes squeezed shut as he savored the swollen moments, tried to commit them to memory.

"I never would've guessed," Draco breathed, his cheek returning to the hollow between Hermione's ribs, "That you wanted me like this." Hermione trailed her fingernails down Draco's muscled back as he rose to look at her, his gray eyes no longer narrowed and cold, but honest and unguarded,

"You never asked." Hermione whispered, pulling Draco's face to hers and kissing the crown of his head, delicate and fleeting as a spring shower of rain.

Once they were clothed, Draco and Hermione made their way up from the dungeons to the Gryffindor Commons entrance, cautious smiles on both of their faces. A strange calm between the two as they traversed the empty halls, hand in hand, Hermione's bare feet pattering against the chill stone steps. They stopped in front of the sleeping portrait, Hermione separating their hands and heading towards the Fat Lady's frame. Draco touched her shoulder and the girl turned back around, her hands combing through her ruffled brunette curls,

"This has to be our secret," He whispered, the girl looked up at him, uncertainty running rampant along the contours of her face, "Hermione, please. Promise me." Draco gritted his teeth, he needed her to swear to it, it was the only way, the only way he could be sure that she was safe. No one could know, not just for his sake, his family's namesake, but for hers as well. Hermione nodded reluctantly, a puzzled frown creeping across her pretty lips,

"I promise, Draco." Draco covered her downturned lips with his own, pulling her close and murmuring his goodbye into her hair. "Wait," Hermione breathed, "I've got to say it. I wasn't sure before, but now," She trailed off.

"What," The boy encouraged, worried by her stoic, downcast eyes, "What is it?"

"I love you," The words erupted from the girl's mouth, her cheeks flushing, her heart thrumming at release. Hermione waited for a moment for Draco to respond, his mouth opening and closing as he seemed to be at loss for words. The girl's excitement was almost instantaneously replaced by shame and fear at what she had done. Draco made a sound at the back of his throat as if he were beginning to speak, Hermione reached up and covered his lips with her fingers. She watched as they hovered there a moment too long, quivering over the place where her kisses remained. "Please," She whispered, withdrawing her hand, "Just don't say anything." With that the girl turned and hurried away past the portrait of the Fat Lady who swung shut afterwards, giving Draco a reproving scowl.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Weeks had passed like creeping summer hours, slow and stagnant. Each day of silent avoidance growing increasingly painful to bear. Hermione could not find the courage to meet eyes with the boy and Draco could not find the words she needed to hear. But then one day, nearly a month after they had last spoken an owl brought Draco a scrawled message.

_Draco,_

_I need to talk to you. Meet me at the edge of the lake tonight after supper. _

_Hermione_

After dinner just as the note had said Draco found Hermione by the edge of the lake. She stood by the lip of water, still covered in a thin layer of ice, hands shoved deep in the pockets of her coat. Hermione turned towards the sound of Draco's boots crunching over the dusting of snow and for a moment she smiled. A pain in her stomach blossomed as his face came into view, somber and impenetrable as if they had never breathed as one, as if they had never shared a skin, as if they had never met. Hermione frowned. The cool March air tossed the girl's hair across her eyes, eyes which as Draco grew closer became glossy.

"Hello," the boy looked down at his feet, not wanting to watch as Hermione's stare grew wet, knowing full well that it was because of him. He wondered how many times she had cried over him before.

"I have to know," The girl started, her voice masked with emotion, "When we spoke last-," she paused, "What I said. Do you feel it too?"

A barrage of possible responses popped into Draco's mind without thought,

_I love you. _

_I want you._

_I need you. _

They wanted to burst free, tear from his tongue, explode through his trachea laced with a confetti of gore. But he swallowed them down into the darkness below.

"I am very fond of you," Draco started, the phrase sounding too formal, contrived, "But this would never work."

"Why?" Hermione asked, staring up at him from beneath dark, furrowed brows. The stern look made Draco uncomfortable, it was almost as if she could see past his lies, she could see past the cuff of his shirt, smell the still burning stench of skin. The boy swallowed nervously, his gut contracting into an anxious jumble.

"Whatever we are, whatever we're doing. It just isn't possible."

"What makes you so sure?"

"There are things that you don't know, Hermione." The boy sputtered, turning from her, his hand absentmindedly grasping his forearm. He wanted to tell her, he wanted to shriek the truth and fall against her, feel her arms around him, hear her voice soothing him. Instead he grasped his forearm tighter.

"Tell me then," He heard her take a step nearer to him in the darkness, her shoes scuffing against the damp, frosted ground, "I want to be with you, Draco."

"It isn't that simple."

"What isn't?" Another step closer. Draco cringed.

"You couldn't possibly understand."

"Explain it to me then, Draco. I want to help you!"

"You think you can help me?" The boy spun around towards her, his hands catching hold her of her shoulders, his tone starched with bitterness. The girl's eyes widened and she wrenched free and stumbled backward, hurt.

Draco looked down at his empty hands.

"I'm sorry," He murmured, balling his hands into fists, soaking in silence for a moment when Hermione did not accept. He continued, "You can't help me. No one can help me anymore." The girl's stony gaze went soft as she recognized the tremor in Draco's voice, he was close to tears.

"There has to be something that I can do," Hermione said, wanting nothing more than to understand, "If you'd only tell me-"

"I_ belong_ to him, Hermione!" He was shaking with frustration. The boy peeled back the sleeve, the weight of guilt darkening his eyes. Draco exposed the truth that lay beneath, a weeping sore in the shape of skull sneering at the girl. "Do you understand why we can't be together now?" The boy's eyes were downcast, refusing to acknowledge the branding he was so ashamed to bear.

Hermione ran a finger over the blistered skin, her eyes filling with tears.

"Why?" She breathed, "Why did you let them do this to you?" Draco grimaced, wrenching his arm away from the girl and covering the mark.

"I had no choice," He barked, his throat constricting with sadness at the truth in his own words, "There was never a choice for me. This is the life that I was born into." Draco turned away so that Hermione could not see his face, "This is the fate that I am condemned to."

Hermione looked across the lake, across the dark school grounds to the forest beyond. Her quick wit was useless now. This was no longer a question with an answer waiting to be solved. This was fact. Irrefutable fact. A decision had been made. Now it was her turn to choose as well.

"You never answered me." The girl said in a very small voice after long, syrupy moments of silence had slid between them. Draco shut his eyes, the chill air blowing through his hair, stinging his cheeks.

"Yes." Draco murmured into the wavering folds of darkness, "Yes, I feel it too." The bitter mockery in the confession burnt down the boy's throat like whiskey. Silence watched from the center of the lake, from the boughs of trees, from the frost beneath their feet. The seared arm at his left side ached. The boy felt tears slip between his lids and he fought to remain silent, focusing on the breath coming in and out of his nose, billowing like smoke into the air.

"You should go," Draco finally choked out.

"Why?" Hermione whispered. The boy looked down at her, his eyes red and glistening.

"Because I'm going to hurt you."

"If I go can you promise me a life free of pain?" Hermione challenged, her eyes still staring out past the water's edge.

"No," Draco stammered, it was a meager replacement for what he meant to say. He wished that he could shove her away. That he could call her names, make her hate him. But all that came out was unstoppered honesty.

"Then I'd much rather spend a lifetime of pain with you, than a lifetime alone."

They tumbled onto the bed, Draco's need pressed against Hermione's thigh. His mouth worked against hers, his brow knitted with fervency. How he had missed the taste of her tongue against his, the smell of her skin, the delicate feel of her ribs heaving with life beneath him.

"Wait," Hermione hummed, her chin lifting as Draco kissed up her neck, "Cast a sound proofing charm." Draco bit at her jaw, ran his teeth over her lower lip, slipped his hand beneath the girl's blouse, pretending that he had not heard her. Hermione's hand ran over his crotch for a moment and he stilled. She pulled away, "Please?" Draco righted himself and grumbled several charms, the curtains around the four poster bed zipping shut.

"Better?" The boy huskily growled against Hermione's neck. She smiled and nodded, her hands starting to undo his belt. "No," Draco murmured, brushing her hands away and instead pushing her back onto the bed so that she rested on her elbows. The boy wrapped his arms around her thighs, gruffly tugging her closer to him and then leaning forward. He guided Hermione's legs apart, his eyes shutting as he alternated kisses and soft nips down the expanse of porcelain skin. Hot breath gushed through the girl's panties as Draco engulfed her most sensitive spot in a wet kiss. He pulled her panties to the side and ran his fingers over the girl's slit, teasing her until she had no choice but to release a delicious moan,

"Please, Draco."

The girl watched breathlessly as Draco slid her panties down her legs and over her feet. Draco's tongue flicked over Hermione's clit, the taste of her body making him grow harder. Hermione's fingers grabbed hold of the blonde's hair, her brow furrowing as she dipped deeper into pleasure. Soon he returned to her and Hermione worked her fingers through his hair, drawing him into a kiss, tasting herself on his lips. His hands gently tugged her shirt over her head, his fingers unlatching her bra, his lips covering hers. Kisses served as worship, exhales as adoration, caresses as testaments of devotion. When her torso was bared Draco separated himself from Hermione for a moment and looked down at her, just looked.

"You are so beautiful," He murmured. The girl gazed up at him, her brows drawn together as she studied him, her lips parted. Draco slowly removed his sweater, the marked flesh now wrapped in gauze. Hermione's face became sullen, wondering if it was to placate her or to let the wound heal, forever embedded into the flesh. The warmth of the bed swallowed her, velvety smooth against her naked skin as he kissed her once more, pressing her down into the plush with the weight of his body.

"Oh god," Hermione groaned against Draco's mouth, her limbs ablaze, her mind a puddle. All she knew was there was her and there was him. There was _them, _moving as one, breathing the same breath, loving each other. "How do you do this to me?"

Draco acted suddenly, his arms wrapping around her slender waist and turning the girl around, his hands running up her rutted spine as she bent over and grasped onto the headboard. His touch slid up the contours of her frame, his wide palms skimming over her breasts then sliding back down the curve of her hips, firmly grasping her rear in his broad hands. The boy hurriedly undid his belt and opened his fly, his hands soon lifting the girl's skirt and running over the plump curve of Hermione's arse. Without warning, the boy entered her and pulsed forward, causing the girl to release a small scream, her brown eyes snapping shut in shock.

Draco turned the girl's face to him and drew her into an open mouthed kiss, Hermione's hand curling around the boy's shoulder as he thrusted faster; all the while Hermione resisted the urge to cry out. She felt his arm wrap around her waist, the other settling on her hipbone, pulling her close until they were one. Soon, the boy's eyes shut as he neared climax and he loomed over the girl, his bare, slick chest pressed to her back. He grunted once and then softly bit down on Hermione's shoulder as he finished, the girl's mouth stretching open in silent pleasure as she, for the first time, came with him.

The girl awoke with the morning light, her eyelids flickering open, her arm unfurling from under her cheek, where she had used it as a pillow in slumber. Draco lay awake beside her in the emerald bed, the curtains drawn back and tethered in place, the dormitory empty, all of its inhabitants already downstairs, enjoying breakfast. He smiled somewhat as the girl snuggled back into crook of her arm, her sock covered toes wiggling as she stretched across the border of sleep,

"Morning," She muttered quietly, squinting at the daylight that brightened the room, "How long have you been up?" Draco rolled fully onto his side so that he faced Hermione, the boy already dressed and showered,

"Not all that long." He answered, his hand sliding down over the creamy expanse of sheet she lay beneath, a smirk edging its way between his teeth.

"You should've woken me up," Hermione brushed his hand away and swung her legs over the side of the bed, the white fabric pressed to her chest. The girl sat up, concealing her own smile as she turned her back on him and gazed out of the frosted window onto the snow dusted Hogwarts grounds below. The cream sheet draped over the girl's breasts but failed to cover her back, the boy noticed this, observing the fluid curve of her body down to her bare arse, the tone of her flesh against the colorless cloth. Draco wrapped his arms around her slim waist and pulled her back to him, drawing a small squeal from the girl as he kissed up her neck and nipped at her skin playfully. As Hermione struggled against Draco's playful hold the sheet slipped down over her sloping form to rest at her hip. The girl paid this no attention, feeling no need to hide her nakedness.

"You were sleeping so soundly," The boy mumbled, a grin cracking onto his face, his fingers tracing up the planed of his lover's stomach, "And snoring so loud." The girl's cheeks flamed and she swatted at him,

"I was not." Hermione's head fell back onto his chest and she curled up against him as Draco lay back in the bed, his hand combing through her thick curls with idle pleasure. Hermione's toes wriggled slackly as she dipped into a light doze again. Draco watched in awe as the morning sun poured over her brown hair, making it gleam almost golden, his fingers fondly brushing away the stray hairs that fell across her temple. A smile curved the girl's lips as her dark eyes opened once more, unable to find the trail that led back into sleep. Hermione yawned, pulling the covers up around her neck and gazing out of the window as fat snowflakes drifted down from the sky, piling on the windowsill.

"Do you want to know something?"

"What?" She breathed, her voice as soft as a downy drift of snow, pure and sparkling. For a moment, Draco was very quiet, almost as if he had forgotten his previous words.

"Your leg," He murmured, his words unhurried, wandering from between his lips as leisurely as the roaming wind outdoors, "It twitches while you sleep." Hermione gave a small laugh, nuzzling her cheek against his chest. "And your nose wrinkles," The boy stammered, quieted for a moment as Hermione placed a small kiss on his lips, "When you laugh earnestly." The girl's smile faded, a thoughtful gaze creeping across her face as the boy kept talking, "You blush," he paused, "When you talk about things you believe in." Hermione pushed herself up into a sitting position, her torso bare and flushed from the heat of the covers, a quiet puzzlement roaming her eyes.

"What're you trying to say?"

The boy sat up as well, his gray eyes troubled with the words he could not find to express himself,

"When you're really enjoying a kiss," He stuttered, his hand intertwining with hers, "Your eyelids tremble for a second, just a second before you shut them." Silence stretched between the two as they tried to decipher what the other meant. "If I ever saw that happen with someone else," Draco finally said, his thumb brushing over Hermione's freckled cheek, his heartbeat clumsy in his chest, "I don't know if I could take it." The girl stared back at him, pale and fair as snow, the slope of her pink lips like a blushing rose, bursting out from under its icy blanket.

"Don't ever leave me," He finished. Hermione leaned forward, dark hair tumbling over her naked chest, drawing the boy into the tenderest of kisses,

"Never," she murmured.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

They sat contentedly together in the early hours of the evening; nestled into place of void between the sun's exit and entrance where the stars hung in silent observance.

"You'll write to me, won't you?" Hermione hummed, lifting her head from Draco's shoulder.

"What?" The boy pinched the skin at the bottom of his palm. His gut burned.

"Over the summer, I mean."

"Oh," Draco murmured, vying for time as he tried to locate a benign response, "Yeah, if I get the chance then yeah."

"Find the time," The girl whispered against his shoulder, placing a small kiss at the delicate bone, "I have to hear from you. I can't imagine a whole summer without being with you let alone not knowing how you are."

"Like I said," The body said, "I'll write if I get a chance." Hermione lifted her cheek from the blonde boy's shoulder and studied his gaze. He flinched under her watch and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, turning his back to her.

"What's going on with you?" Draco didn't respond. He dug his nails into the skin of his forearm. "Draco?" The girl breathed, touching his shoulder.

"Nothing, Mione. Please, just let me be." He growled, shrugging off the girl's touch. Hermione's pretty lips slunk into a frown, her fingers busying themselves with buttoning the shirt Draco had lent her as she fought to withhold tears.

"You're lying to me," The girl muttered, her voice coming out sodden and weak. She cleared her throat, "Why are you lying to me?"

"Mione, c'mon," Draco started, his fingernails sinking deeper into his skin.

"Why are you lying to me?" Hermione repeated, louder this time, something in the girl fraying, heightening her thirst for the truth. The boy turned to her and spoke, his voice void of emotion,

"I'm leaving tomorrow."

"What?"

"They've got something planned, Hermione. They want me to do something terrible." The boy's skin seemed to grow paler still, "I won't be able to come back."

"And you weren't going to tell me? Was I supposed to wake up tomorrow morning and just…" Hermione's throat constricted against tears but she pushed them away, overtaken by anger. "Just find you gone?" The boy said nothing.

"No," Hermione slid off the bed, betraying herself, eyes clouding with emotion, "I won't allow it! You can't go, you can't do whatever it is they're asking of you. You can't!"

"I have no choice, Mione, you know I don't."

"There has to be a way," She backed away from the boy, brushing off his attempts of embrace, wordlessly, pleading with him to prove her wrong, "Just say you won't go."

"You don't understand," Draco hurled an emerald pillow onto the floor as he leapt up from his seat and snatched her shirt in a feeble attempt to bring her close, "The only way out is _death_." Hermione tore herself from Draco's grasp and shoved him backward, her chest rising and falling with unbridled rage.

"And what of me? If you leave with them tomorrow you'll only be saving _your _life," She swallowed his bitter look, "I'll die without you."

"Hermione, don't say things like that. You'll live, you'll be fine without me," The white fabric of her blouse groaned with a tear as Draco grappled for her arm, jerking the girl back to him. Hermione knew there was no choice for the boy and yet she was stifled by fruitless frustration_. It wasn't fair. _

Anger boiled in the boy's gut and he yanked her into his arms, hands linking over her navel, "After a while you'll love someone else, someone better." Draco wrestled her down onto the bed and loomed above her, dodging her flailing arms, her clawing hands.

"I won't," Hermione choked out, struggling against her lover's hold, "I won't! I'd find you again, however long it took!" He pinned her limbs to her sides and then leaned forward, fervently pressing his lips to hers.

"Don't do this to me," He whispered through their kiss, against her neck, in the waving folds of her hair, "I love you." The girl lost herself for a moment, forgetting her rage, her lips sluggishly moving against his. Memories of more comfortable times soothed the girl, limbs twined between limbs, soft exhales, whispered oaths. And for a moment she could almost believe that he had come back to her, that they could rest in each other's company like this _for good._

Draco wrapped his arm around the girl and lifted her off of the bed, clasping her body to his, "You've got to let me go." Hermione groaned and pushed him away, dropping back down onto the sheets. But the girl's hope was a devil in disguise and bore nothing but dishonesties. Draco bowed forward again, his eyes shut for a kiss. The girl slapped him across the face, as hard as she could manage.

"No," Draco stumbled backward, white blonde hair falling across his brow, mouth hanging open, palm pressed to his burning cheek, "I won't have it! I won't say goodbye."

"Please," Draco's grip shot forward and sank into the flesh of the girl's shoulder, "Don't make this any harder for me than it already is."

"Don't you see? I want this to be as painful as possible," Hermione shrieked, bringing her face closer to his, her eyes filling with tears, "I want you to feel it all! I want you to know exactly what you're doing to me!" Hermione twisted in his grasp like a feral cat, her teeth bared in a snarl, "You swore you loved me."

"I do," He grunted, wrapping her tighter against him, the coarse stubble on his cheek chafing against the girl's freckled face. She elbowed him in the stomach and split herself from him, like a scab torn from flesh, "That's why I have to go. I can't see you hurt on my behalf." Draco's face crumbled, his hand dragging over his jaw, hiding his quivering chin as he fought to not cry out, "If you love me then protect yourself, Hermione. The boy breathed into the hushed air. Hermione slid down the wall, legs crumpling beneath her, shirt draped off one shoulder,

"Then go. Go before I can think twice," The girl moaned, eyes shut, heels of her palms digging into them. The boy knelt down beside her. Draco tried to pry the girl's hands away from her strained face,

"Mione, c'mon look at me."

"Draco, please," The girl said in a small voice, not taking her hands from her eyes, "You don't have to be like this."

He looked out at the disheveled room, suddenly weary. The scattered beddings that still smelled of their lovemaking, the emerald curtains that had served as their shelter on nights that always ended too soon . And then there was her, the one he had buried himself in, had kissed until he could not find the strength to draw in air, the one he had sworn to protect. Hermione, crumpled, broken and because of him. In that moment he made up his mind and the word gushed from his mouth like water dripping from the spout of a well,

"Okay."

Hermione whimpered and covered her eyes. Her face contorted as she fought to find the words to liberate him. But she could not find the courage to let him go. Instead she withered against the boy and he pulled her into a steadying embrace, caressing the tears from her face. Kissing her damp cheeks, where the cascade of sorrow had slid down her neck, and then her lips where she could taste her own sadness in their kiss.

"We'll think of something, we'll leave before dawn." She kissed him again, interlacing their limbs, as tightly as the bone would allow; "I've never felt anything like this before, I've never loved someone so much as I love you." The boy sat back on his heels,

"I don't know how to live without you," He whispered, partly to Hermione. Partly to fate itself. Draco heaved the girl into his arms with a grunt, her legs wrapping around his waist and he carried her to the bed where he lay her down and curled up against her trembling frame. Soon, her tears stilled and she grew quiet, growing heavy with tiredness.

"Stay with me. Stay and promise you won't leave,"

"Yes," Draco murmured, his voice stealing away with the early summer wind, "Yes, I promise."

_The girl's eyes fluttered open, the sunlight from the window warming the naked skin of her breasts. She found her hand already fitted inside Draco's and a rush of relief swallowed her, lifting the corners of her mouth into a smile. Hermione brought the hand to her mouth and kissed it, savored it for a moment before rolling over to greet its owner. Draco lay beside her on top of the blankets, black slacks already on, the pale skin of his torso glaringly bright and bared. _

"_I dreamt that I woke up and you were gone," The girl whispered, burying her face in the side of his neck, breathing in the smell of him, of them. _

_ "I am." Hermione did not lift her head, did not dare meet his eyes. A stray curl flopped over her brow, rising and falling with her breath. _

_ "What?" Draco did not respond. The girl lifted herself onto him, chest to chest as she searched his stare. Something was lost, something was misplaced in his eyes. "Don't be ridiculous," She hushed, kissing his cheek, running her hands down his neck, her breath halting in her lungs as she did so. He was cold as the morning earth, untouched by the sun. Her chin began to tremble as she continued on, as she tried to ignore the truth, "You're here, right in my arms, where you're meant to be." Draco's eyes revolved in his skull to meet hers, sadness stamped on the grey irises, tears spilling over his cheeks, his lips quivering. _

_ "It's gone, Mione, I did it for you." The boy breathed, his voice cracking on her name, his eyeballs rolling back into his head. Suddenly the girl felt something warm, something wet against her naked thigh. Hermione bolted upright, the sheet gathered against her bare chest as she gaped, horrified at the blood that was trickling over the bed. The left forearm of the boy had and angry red pit carved into it where the dark mark should have been, muscle and the faintest hint of slick, ivory bone. The skin around the carving blistered and flaking, blood oozing from the wound. Hermione screamed and shook Draco by the shoulders, _

_ "Draco!" His form tossed limply back and forth under her clutch, "What did you do?!" The girl brought his bloody hand to her mouth and kissed it, the dead flesh dropping from her grasp as she began to sob, a smear of red liquid painting her cheek. The white arm made a slapping noise as it fell into the bath of its own gore, the ashen skin painfully bare, painfully free of its branding, "Draco!"_

Soft moonlight stirred her mind, nudging it into gear with tender coils of light as it peered through the window. Awareness swept her away from her dream, her heart still fluttering in her chest. Hermione did not want to open her eyes. She did not have to. She could feel something was wrong. Something was misplaced. The girl swallowed and ran her tongue over her dry lips. There was a terrible lightness at the swoop of her waist where his hand had been resting through the night. But she was almost too afraid to wonder where it had gone, too ashamed to ask. Hermione raised herself onto her elbow, feeling the silken sheets spill over her naked form, nothing to weigh them down. She dared not look as she groped the cool material,

"Draco?" She breathed on morning soured breath, her hand clamping down on fabric again and again until it closed around something warm. Hermione turned to find her fingers fitted around the sheet. The girl looked around the room in disbelief for a moment, her eyes stinging with the first hints of tears.

"No-," Her voice cracked, "He said he wouldn't." Hermione tore the sheet away, the cloth billowing down onto the floor, her bare legs the only thing underneath the sheet. She froze, hair tumbling over her eyes, her hand clamped over her mouth as her expression became distressed, as the reality that he was gone began to set in. Hermione released a graceless sob, achingly misplaced in the silence of the empty room. Mercy was nowhere to be found and any hope of sleep slunk away as it watched the perverted scene. The girl wept unabashedly, brash, tender sobs that seemed to bring up bits of her lungs with them, tearing the flesh from her gut as she cried out without words. The moon watched through the glass, a sympathetic frown on her once jovial face, now burdened. She slipped behind a cloud, ashamed of her eavesdropping eye.

A/N: Leave a comment if you have time! It'd be greatly appreciated.


	8. Chapter 8

Bellatrix Lestrange dropped down from between the two open doors of the cabinet, her mouth contorting into a sneer as she looked around the Room of Requirement, a feral excitement glinting in her dark eyes. She turned to Draco, her movements swift and serpentine as she took the boys cheeks in her hands and grinned wildly at him,

"Well done, Draco." Bellatrix pinched his cheek, her tongue poking through a hole where her had gone missing long ago, "Auntie is so proud of you." Draco pulled his head from her grasp and looked down at the floorboards, ignoring her low snicker as she sped away towards the door, ready, lusting over her rapidly approaching attack. The rest of the Death Eaters descended from the cabinet's gaping maw; one by one they stepped down and rushed after Bellatrix. The last to exit the cabinet was Lucius, his forehead already wrinkled with deep worry, his face drooping from fatigue.

"Draco," The man said quietly, "You must keep your mind on your task." Draco raised his eyes to his father's face, his body feeling heavy and listless, every ounce of vigor already leeched from his being. He had used every ounce of strength to peel himself from around her sleeping form and crawl back to his father and his cohorts. He could no longer fight; he had been broken into obedience finally by fear. Fear of what would happen to her if he resisted.

"You must kill Dumbledore, Draco. Before the end of tonight, for if you fail," Lucius placed a shaky hand on his son's shoulder, his dark eyes watering from exhaustion, "There is no telling what the Dark Lord may choose to do." Draco shrugged off his father's touch and started towards the door, his gut burning with bitterness. Lucius' hand grappled for Draco's, holding him back as his face pinched under the weight of worry, his eyes softening as he desperately clung to his son. "Draco," The older man's eyes began to tear, the silver underneath the moisture looking so much like his son's, "You must do this. Your mother could not bear to lose you," Draco ripped his hand from his father's clutch and strode away, his lean arms forcing the door open. "And nor could I." Draco halted, his hands remaining on the door handle as he turned to his father. Lucius stood, partially lost amidst the clutter, his face peering out from behind a stack of books, the stubble coating his jaw glinting in the moonlit room.

The man made a feeble attempt to straighten himself, his mouth open with a loss of words until he noisily swallowed and wet his cracked lips. "Good luck, my son." Draco pushed the doors open and rushed down the hall, his heart thrashing against his ribs, begging for release as he climbed the stairs upward towards the Astronomy Tower. He found himself struggling with every step, his brain flooded with resistance, his gut churning as he mulled over what he was about to do. Draco slowed as he approached the corridor below the Astronomy Tower, the voices of Death Eaters echoing off the walls around him, their jeers and chants rattling into his skull. He looked up the circling staircase, the Death Eaters not yet in view but not nearly far enough away. The boy turned and sank down onto the stairs, his hands grabbing weakly at his hair, his eyes closing against the noise of the Dark Lord's followers. Hermione was all he could see, her crooked smile, her cream skin against his, her determined eyes. But then Draco's mind wandered and he saw her, dead on the floor, her face chalk white, her brown eyes open but blind, frozen in terror. Draco choked back his tears, biting down onto his fist as he leaned forward, forcing the images from his mind. Her words breezed through his consciousness, the girl's voice so sure, haunting him once again,

"You don't have to be this way." Draco's mouth opened with an unvoiced sob, his body tensing against the pain of his reality. He wished she'd been right. But he had to do this. There was no choice any longer.

"This is your moment, do it!" The woman's hair flew about her shoulders, whipping across her face like Medusa's snakes, "Go on, Draco! Now!" Bellatrix shrieked, her chest heaving in exhilaration as she waited for him to act. Draco's wand arm shook violently before him, the old man standing just feet away from him, waiting patiently for Draco's decision. Draco tried to spit the words from his mouth but the simple incantation would not come to his tongue, the air in lungs felt like cement and his throat was aching with constraint. Noiselessly, he begged for the courage to do what he knew he had to do, but his arm trembled even more, his breath coming out in jagged gasps.

"No." Draco spun around and found himself facing Severus Snape, the Potion Master's wand drawn as well, his black robes dancing in the wind. Snape paced closer to Dumbledore, his face giving no feeling away however, a certain graveness hung in his eyes. Draco backed away slightly, his mind in a frenzy as he watched Snape take several precise steps nearer Dumbledore.

"Severus," The older man whispered calmly, his blue eyes twinkling from underneath his half- moon spectacles, "Please." Snape reacted immediately, his wand brandished and emitting a cruel green light, his cold drawl echoing through the pleasant spring night crudely,

"Avada Kedavra!" Draco watched wordlessly as the old man toppled backward and plummeted down, Snape's arm gradually lowering down to his side, a look of distaste washing over his face. Bellatrix burst forward to the railing to watch the Headmaster's path down, soon her piercing cackles permeated the air as she pointed her wand towards the heavens, the Dark Mark bursting from it and tattooing the night sky.

The Death Eaters' shrill screams of celebration grazed Draco's barely registering at all as if his hearing had been deadened by an explosion. He let out his breath. The boy's eyes wide with disbelief_. It was over. It was all over_. _Dumbledore was dead. Draco had failed._ He staggered to the rail and peered over the side, Dumbledore's body barely visible where it lay below, twisted and mangled from the fall. The gaunt skull mocked the boy from where it was burned into the night, his feet not carrying him fast enough from away from the scene to escape its glare. His heart was beating violently, his mind whirring as he gripped onto the railing for support, feet speeding down the stairs from the astronomy tower.

What would happen when the Dark Lord heard that Snape had been the one to kill Dumbledore? The thought of his own death tumbled into Draco's mind for a moment but it was soon drowned by the fear of Hermione's. Draco collapsed onto all fours when he reached the main landing and he retched.

_Hermione, awaking from sleep, eyelids heavy, smile small. Hermione by the fire, devouring her textbooks as if they were a novel full of secrets and battles. Hermione, gasping for breath as he took her, as he moved inside her._

Draco stood and wiped his mouth, still in shock, unaware of the tears sliding like the sun over the sky until they hung in fat, quivering beads at his chin. _He would find her again. After all of this was over. He would find her if took every breath in his body, every drop of blood he had to shed, every day he had left living, every minute._ The boy listened breathlessly as bangs and shattering echoed down below, the late night's breath tousling his blond hair, blowing it over his watering grey eyes. He barely heard the footsteps over his own labored breathing, sobs ripping from his core and surging from his mouth like waves breaking against a rocky shore.

Someone passed by him silently, a Death Eater, sheathed in black robes. The figure paused before descending the next flight of stairs and turned towards the boy.

"I'm sorry, Father," Draco managed, starting towards the man, "I couldn't, I just couldn't do it!"

"Father?" The hooded man stared at the fair haired boy for a moment and then parted his dry cracked lips, letting words slither out from the dark pit like worms crawling from the dark earth, "I have no son."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Draco looked down at the dish of food before him. Gravy welled into a bead on the side of his still bloody steak before running down the marbled surface. His stomach ached from hunger but he could not bring himself to eat. A strange anxiety was building in his gut, swirling and melding with the grief that had been building there like a storm cloud, making it impossible to eat. He pushed the plate away from him, the metal screeching across the wood surface.

"Draco," His mother said, her fingers curling around her cutlery a bit tighter as she braced herself, "You've got to eat."

"Not hungry," The young man muttered, his knife clanking nosily as he dropped it onto his plate and pushed back his chair. Narcissa's small, intelligent eyes gauged her son's anger, following him as he stood and pushed in his chair. The woman sighed began to cut another forkful of steak, her frustration directed towards the piece of meat. The pearls on her bracelet clinked against the silverware awkwardly in the silence.

"Draco, sit down." The woman said this tersely, sliding the piece of meat between her lips like a secret, almost as if she were embarrassed. Her son did not move from where he stood. She watched him and chewed the meat in silence. Her severe yet beautiful face allowing no emotion to sully it. "These past few weeks your father and I have done nothing but clean up the messes you've made and now you refuse to eat the food we've placed before you?" Narcissa dabbed at her lips, the white napkin coming away with a faint redness. "Do you know the pain you've caused us, Draco? The shame we've had to endure because of your cowardice?" Silence. Narcissa fiddled with the napkin on her lap like a bird rustling its feathers in annoyance, "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I don't want your fucking steak, Mother. I don't want anything from you." The pale boy leaned over the table and spat onto the food prepared for him. Narcissa's face went pale with fury and she leapt to her feet, her torso thrusting forward over the table as she bellowed,

"Then starve for all I care!" The woman's knuckles were white where she clenched the edge of the table, "Your father and I have taken every punishment for your sake. Every torture the Dark Lord has meant for you we bore in your place and now you refuse to eat? After we fought so hard to keep you safe?" Suddenly, as if all the air had been expelled from her tiny frame the woman collapsed into her chair like a deflated balloon and buried her face in her hands. The chair beside her, his father's, left painfully empty. Draco's jaw dropped as he gaped at his mother. Where her silvery shawl had slipped aside he could now see bruises covering her shoulders and upper arms. His cheeks grew warm and his gut twisted further into a knot. He had never been so ashamed.

"I'm sorry," He choked out, sitting lamely in the heavy oak chair as his mother continued to cry, the lines on her once beautiful face deeper than they had seemed even an hour before, "I'm so sorry." Draco looked down at his plate. His reflection looking back at him, distorted in the old silver.

There was a knock on the door and as Draco looked up his Aunt bustled into the room, a sick smile on her face.

"Sorry to ruin the party sis," Bellatrix said with mock concern, her crooked teeth still bared, "But we've got visitors and they're putting up quite the fight." Narcissa wiped her face, her hands shaking slightly,

"I'll be right there to help."

"No," Bellatrix said forcefully before her sister could stand. "Why don't you leave this to me and our lovely little hero here?" She sauntered a few steps closer, the ragged lace on the bottom hem of her dress audibly dragging over the stone floor. "Isn't that right, Draco? Don't you want to protect your Mummy?" Draco stood but moved not further. Bellatrix clicked her tongue, "Come now, Draco. Show us all where your true faith lies. _This _is your last chance."

"Who are they?" He asked, "The captives."

"Oh," The dark haired woman found Draco's eyes and winked, taunting him as she backed out of the room, "That bit's a surprise." Draco rounded the table to where his mother sat and placed his hand on top of hers.

"Don't worry, Mum. I promise I won't let you and Dad down again. You won't suffer any more because of me." The woman did not look up at her son, merely nodded and withdrew her hand from beneath his. Draco's lips pressed into a line. The boy rushed out of the room, just behind his Aunt as she led him through the maze of Malfoy Manor. Draco tried to make his expression steely and impassive even though he had never been more afraid. He had never killed a person. But this was it. This was what he had to do. His aunt hummed the whole way, hands busy withdrawing her wand from between her breasts, catching Draco's curious stare. The woman cackled as his cheeks flamed red.

"Here we are," Bellatrix trilled, her dark eyes manic with glee, "Just wait outside for a moment Draco while I bring the prisoners in." She feigned a kissing face at him as she opened the door to the study and slipped through, letting the door slam in Draco's face. He slipped his wand from his pocket and squeezed it tightly in his hand, taking deep breaths. _This is it. _Draco practiced the death curse silently, trying to imagine the sound of a corpse dropping to the floor. Would there be time for him to hear his victim cry out in pain? Or even worse fight for breath?

He tried to visualize the curse hitting the man square in the chest. Watching his body crumple to the floor. Blood leaking from where his head hit the floor. Glossy eyes staring back at him. Dead.

His heart ached.

The boy's grey eyes opened as the door cracked and Bellatrix's face appeared, "We're ready for you, Draco." Several moments passed before Draco could even nod but then he started to hear the noises. Muffled screams. Groans. Sobs. Every feeling of resolve faded from Draco's mind. Bellatrix's grin widened, every decaying tooth revealed as she watched Draco's face grow pale.

It was a woman.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Draco felt as if he were looking on from outside. Oddly at a disconnect from the situation, he stood motionless and watched. Bellatrix stalked towards the girl who was curled on the floor, her back to Draco. Hair matted, falling from the knot it was tied in, dirty clothes and a slightly more angular frame... But still. There was no mistaking her.

The boy choked down the fear that was taking hold of him, his tongue caught in his throat. His blood scorched through his veins, his heart pumping at a frantic speed while his brain muddled along afterwards, wasting time. He felt mute. He felt frightened. He felt _sure_. It was her. It was his, Hermione.

"Surprise," Bellatrix hissed, kicking the captive once in the stomach, causing the girl to curl tighter into a ball. "Roll over," Bellatrix commanded, the voice that boomed from her lungs only made the girl cover her face with her hands. The crazed woman stooped down and withdrew a small dagger from her belt, sawing the cords that bound Hermione's wrists. "I said," She barked, spit flecking Hermione's cheek, "Roll over!" The girl began to cry and this seemed to only make Bellatrix more infuriated. The dark witch stood and set her muddy boot on Hermione's waist, forcefully shoving the girl onto her side.

A dirty strip of cloth wove between Hermione's lips, gagging her. Her brown eyes were wells of tears and even so something about her was hardened. The girl did not look up at him but rather past him, her bony torso rising and falling with labored breath. Her gaze was no longer calculating, looking for answers rather completely apathetic.

The sound of bones snapping cleared Draco's daze. Hermione's mouth wrenched open as she let out a shriek, something unbridled and primitive like a wounded animal. But in that pain, the old Hermione's vigor flashed across her face, gathered in her eyes. Bellatrix brought her fingers to her lips as if she wanted to feel the manic grin spread across her own face. The woman drew back her leg once more, letting it rest lazily on Hermione's neck.

"Please," The girl whimpered, souring Bellatrix's glee, "Don't hurt me." The woman combatted Hermione's sound with her own yell,

"Oh woe is me! Little mudblood girl crying out for her Mummy? What's this?" Dark, greasy curls fell across Bellatrix's face, "Don't you dare 'please' me you whore. Do I look like your filthy Muggle Mum to you?!" With newfound anger Bellatrix dropped to the ground and began beating Hermione with her fists, her eyes half lidded all the while, teeth bared.

"What're you doing?" Draco sputtered, "You're going to kill her!"

"No, no," Bellatrix mumbled, thinking for a moment. Her hands went slack at her sides and she looked up at her nephew, a hideous grin curling in and around her sparse teeth, "You are." She stood and surveyed her handiwork for a moment more like a demented child preparing to massacre a colony of ants. "You're going to kill this girl to prove yourself to the Dark Lord." Bellatrix clicked her tongue, sauntering over to where her nephew stood, her tongue poking through the spaces where teeth should have been. "Just a little slice, a little stab," The woman coaxed, her fingernails grazed the skin of his scalp as she combed through his hair "And then it will be all over, my love."

There was a rustling outside the door accompanied by voices. Narcissa's muffled cries could be heard through the wood paneling. Bellatrix merely raised a hand and there was an audible click as the heavy locks secured themselves. Palms smacked against the thick oak doors for a moment but then the noise ceased, leaving the room eerily quiet. She circled the boy like a lioness before closing in on him, her breasts pressing into his shoulder blades as she stood on tiptoe, her lips brushing his earlobe, "Do you hear that? Mummy is counting on you, Draco." The young man jerked his head away from her touch, his fists balling tightly as her laughter resurged.

The dark witch rested her chin on Draco's shoulder, her arm snaking around his torso in her best mimic of affection. "Kill her," she mused, slipping the dagger into his pocket, "With your two hands. No magic."

The expression on Bellatrix's face could not be mistaken. Lust entranced the woman as she watched her nephew withdraw the dagger with shaking hands. "Do it," She murmured, her fingers on her bottom lip, her slimy tongue darting out in excitement. Draco staggered closer to Hermione on shaking legs. The girl lay on her side, eyes staring forward vacantly.

Draco fought to take each step. He fought to keep color from his cheeks. He would remain composed. He would do what he _knew _he had to do. He glanced down at the weapon in his hands. The lip of the blade was coated in a waxy black liquid. Draco swallowed. His arm burned. _Poison._

"Kill her, Draco!" Bellatrix thundered, her hands gripping the cloth about her thighs, her heaving breasts flushed.

And suddenly, Hermione looked up at him. The intensity in her eyes nearly as cutting as the dagger's edge as she mouthed,

"Do it."

Draco dropped the knife.

Behind him Bellatrix seemed to swell with fury, her long fingers curling around her wand as she extended her arm.

"Traitor," The woman seethed, wand aimed at her nephew, "Imperius."

Before Draco could so much as inhale he felt a strange lightness in his heart. Warmth spread from his toes upward, gently caressing his mind and removing all his worries. His heart slowed, beating softly in his chest, far away from his thoughts. The boy knelt down and picked up the dagger. Hermione gaped up at him, her chin trembling, her lips spread in an unpleasant sob. His eyes felt tired, the image of Hermione growing more unfocused, as if he were looking through frosted glass.

"Please, Draco."

Draco smiled softly down at the girl, his arm raised in preparation, his free hand touching Hermione's freckled cheek. There was a calming echo that hummed in the boy's head,

"_Kill her." _

Hermione's jaw wrenched open, her eyes wide and glassy.

"_Kill her." _

There was a distant sound of screaming. Of choking. Of sobbing.

"_Kill her." _

Hermione's quivering hands desperately attempted to push Draco away. Tried to stall his hand. Tried to touch his face.

The dagger clattered to the floor.

Hermione's eyes went blank.


End file.
