Disclaimer: I own no part of the Harry Potter franchise; all characters and ideas belong to J.K. Rowling.

Author's Note: If rape, mutilation and cannibalism offend your sensibilities, read no further! This is, however, a story primarily about getting even. I don't particulary wish any harm on DM, but he seems to be the most popular choice for Hr rape fics. If you still insist on continuing, I can't stop you. You've been forewarned. No whining, please.

The boy rolled from on top of her and collapsed at her side, inhaling great, heaving breaths. His pale blond hair was matted to his forehead with sweat from his…efforts.

Hermione lay there, motionless, on the bed. The silk sheets clung to her half naked body, damp with moisture. She was barely breathing. Her own chest had stopped heaving many minutes before now, with the cessation of her struggling. Now she simply lay very, very still. The boy thought she might be comatose for a moment, but he shrugged and sat up, turning his back to her as he reached for his pants where he had flung them to the floor. Standing, he pulled the pants on and then picked up his shirt. He looked back over his shoulder to the girl.

She was still lying there, still and quiet, eyes not even blinking. It was, frankly, the strangest reaction he'd ever had. To be honest, Draco Malfoy had to admit that it was beginning to creep him out. He'd expected yelling, or screaming, or a hex or two at this point. To still hear noting from her was not just unusual, it was downright wrong. Not at all the reaction he'd hoped for. Why else would he go to the trouble of raping some filthy mudblood if not to watch her hurt, watch her suffer? Yes, this was very strange, indeed.

Draco brushed his damp hair from his face and turned around. Well, that was quite enough of that.

"You can go now," he said, smirking.

No reply. No reply, no movement, no sound.

"I said, you can go now, mudblood," he spoke more loudly. Feeling anger rise in his throat, he yanked the sheets from under her. At that, she moved a little.

"Go on!" he yelled, "Get out! I don't want your filthy arse in my sight anymore…I'm finished with you, Granger!"

Hermione rolled over onto her side, well aware that her remaining clothes wouldn't cover her escape from the boy's room. She self consciously tugged her torn skirt down over her rear and reached for her discarded robe, trying to sit up. Pain zigzagged up and down her back and she looked down at herself. It was no use. Even wearing her robe, people were bound to notice the state she was in: visible bruises on her neck, hands, arms, legs. Damp, disheveled hair. Blood on her lips from biting them when he'd…well. Humiliation finally began to wash over her in waves as the enormity of what had just happened dawned on her.

Seeing the girl was finally getting up, Malfoy nodded in satisfaction.

"I assume you can find your own way out." It was a statement, one which the girl understood full well. Shrugging on her robe, she stood up and managed to hobble over to his door. He gave her another once over and then waited for her to leave.

Dread filled her stomach. He wasn't even going to try and hide what he had done, what had happened to her here, in his room. She felt akin to a sacrificial lamb being led to the slaughter, except no one was leading her. He was going to make her walk down those stairs, through his common room and all the way down the halls of the school without even bothering to perform a concealment charm. Tears stung her eyes and she almost looked at him. She didn't have her wand and he knew it. In fact, it was the only reason that he'd been able to take advantage of her. As much as she wanted to though, she wouldn't look at him. She wasn't going to ask him for anything. Not this bastard, not ever.

The boy smirked as she left and he let the door hit her on her way out. He was going to regret that later.

The first place Hermione went was the medical wing. If he wasn't going to try and hide what had happened, she wouldn't either. Rape. The word rolled around in her mouth. It tasted bad. She would've spat, but she didn't want any evidence of the rape gone before she'd been examined.

"Do you know who did this to you?" was the question they kept asking her. Hermione kept shaking her head. As much as she would've liked to tell her professors, she couldn't tell anyone just yet. That would've spoilt everything. She had to have enough time, the time it would take for them to discover the truth, to take revenge.

Laying back on the table, her feet in stirrups, she had loads of time to think: about what to tell her friends, what to tell her parents, but most of all what she was going to do about it all. She already knew what she wished she could do, but she didn't fancy going to Azkaban for murder. Mutilation, however, was definitely an option. Besides, she was certain that she wasn't the first girl Malfoy had raped. She might even get away with it. She felt her lips curl and reached up a hand to feel them. Oh, god. She was smirking. Turning her head to the side, she promptly vomited. Someone walked over and collected it for testing.

Hermione relaxed and willed herself to sleep. She was frightened, but confident that nothing would happen to her while she was under the nurse's care. Darkness claimed her.

It was the dead of night, two days later. The test results were due in the next morning. Hermione crept along the corridors of the dormitory: his dormitory. She'd almost crowed in delight when she'd remembered that he'd pronounced the password right in front of her. The knowledge had already made her task tonight so very, very easy.

No, that wasn't quite true. The easiest part was yet to come.

She came to his door and tested the lock. It opened noiselessly. Hermione was suddenly grateful for all the times she'd paid attention in Charms. Slipping inside, she could see he was lying in the middle of his bed on his stomach: vulnerable and looking disgustingly innocent. She crept closer.

He must've heard her, because he rolled over and propped himself up on his elbow, rubbing one eye blearily. "Pansy?" came his hoarse whisper.

"Not tonight, Draco," Hermione cooed. The boy's eyes widened and he looked over to his wand, sitting uselessly on his bedside stand.

"Accio wand," she murmured, and his wand was soon in her hands. Next she cast a silencing spell on his room. Only one spell left to cast.

Draco narrowed his eyes. "What, couldn't get enough last time, mudblood? Worried someone might hear me scream?"

She felt her mouth smirk in response, and stamped down the urge to vomit once more.

"Something like that, Malfoy…Silencio!" she hissed. Malfoy's eyes went wide and for the first time since third year, he looked visibly scared of what she might do to him.

A flash of silver glinted in her hand menacingly and she advanced on him. Glancing about him frantically and realizing that there was no escape, the boy opened his mouth to begin a long and silent scream.

The next morning at breakfast the great hall was buzzing with the news.

"Malfoy- murdered in his bed- no, just had his balls chopped off- not what I heard!"

Only Hermione sat at her place, quiet, humming to herself. She would look up and nod occasionally at something someone said, but she didn't seem at all horrified by last night's turn of events.

Ron and Harry walked in and joined her. They both immediately started talking.

"Hermione! Did you hear? What happened to Malfoy, I mean-," began Ron.

"Yeah- I mean, he always has been a miserable git, but I don't know that anybody deserves that!" Harry finished for him.

"Oh?" Hermione looked up politely from her breakfast. "What's that?"

"You mean you don't know?" Ron asked.

"Know what?"

"That Malfoy's in the medical wing right now!" Harry responded, slightly exasperated. "He was found this morning, he'd lost a lot of blood. Apparently some crazy wanker attacked him last night and cut off his, well, you know."

"The family jewels?" Hermione inquired sweetly.

Ron and Harry both nodded, looking decidedly pale. She gave them a cursory smile and continued eating.

"No use wondering about it, is there? They'll either tell us who did it or not, right? Anyway, I'm sure it's nothing you have to be worried about." Her voice suddenly changed, becoming low-pitched and dangerous. "Unless either of you decides to become rapist bastards with no remorse for anything you do."

Harry and Ron blinked, looking at each other and then back at Hermione, who'd gone back to her food. They were unsure if they'd just heard her right. Harry had a sneaking suspicion she knew more than she was saying.

"Erm, Hermione, what's that you're eating for breakfast, there?" Ron asked, changing the subject. He began shoveling food onto his own plate.

She looked up at him and smiled sweetly once more.

"Steak and Kidneys."

Harry watched as she continued to eat when a thought crossed his mind.

"But, Hermione, you hate kidneys."

"Not today, Harry. Today, I love them," she replied, the smirk returning.

Harry watched the gusto with which she continued to devour her food. He looked over his shoulder to Malfoy's empty seat and realized he'd just lost his appetite.

Hermione continued to smile that new, strange and enigmatic smile. Love them, indeed. In fact, they were quite tasty. She wondered briefly why she'd never eaten them before. They were really almost worth the trouble.

Author's Note: If you enjoyed this oneshot, there is a poll on my profile concerning it. Please take it if you are at all interested. Thank you!