Warnings: This story will focus a lot on torture and both the psychological and physical damage it can inflict. Obviously there is magical influence involved here, but it will be dark and go into more detail if it continues on, so please be warned.

I'll make you bleed.

Hermione tapped her quill as she took notes, anxiety working it's way through her chest as she failed to listen. Her mind was a million miles away, months back, focused on pain that she couldn't forget.

Shifting, she ignored the bandages around her torso shifting painfully against the arms. The pain was dull nowadays compared to usual, but she couldn't forget.

She looked down at the parchment, scratched a few notes, and went to scratch her arm again. She was always scratching anxiously these days, unable to sit still.

Unable to forget.

I'll bleed you dry.

She clenched her hands together, letting the nails dig into her soft palms, trying to snap herself back into reality. Beside her Ron looked on, oblivious, focused on some sort of bet he had going with Harry today.

It was easy to convince her friends things were fine, especially since he never bothered her during the day. He didn't have to get close, he knew he left a lasting impression on her.

If he wasn't Malfoy's bloody friend he'd never even be in their dorm room, but luck wasn't on her side. He came over too often, leaving her feeling like she just couldn't escape.

Hermione knew exactly where he was sitting in class, on the other side of the room in the back. Without looking she could feel his eyes on her, remembering Malfoy Manor and their encounter.

No one will recognize you when I'm finished.

She closed her eyes a moment, forcing the panic away. The war ended months ago, and school was back in session. She'd been sharing a blasted common room with Malfoy for weeks now, and yet she still felt like she was right back there revisiting the same few moments.

And no one seemed to notice anything different about her. She'd been keeping the secret since that day, letting her friends believe the scars came from someone else.

Of course he was at school again, escaping charges just like Malfoy. Whenever he came up to the common room her heart sped up, and she ended up warding her bedroom door just to be safe, or leaving altogether usually to the library.

She should tell someone, but it seemed petty now. She'd been coping since then, why couldn't she now?

"Hermione?"

She almost jumped, realizing Harry was talking to her. He was standing beside her desk, Ron stuffing his notes away as they prepared to leave. She hadn't even noticed class ended.

"Sorry," she said, smiling as she packed her bag. A smile always assured her friends she was okay. She shifted her bag so it didn't hit the side that hurt the most. She was used to making the movements look natural by now. "Guess I got lost in thought."

"You're always lost in thought," Harry replied, stepping in beside her as the trio left class. His eyes were skeptical about her answer, just like always. "What were you thinking about?"

Playfully she rolled her eyes, trying to push down the anxiety. Harry was harder to fool than the others, he payed more attention.

Scream for me, Mudblood.

"I'm just trying to plan what to study," she lied, looping her arm through his. It hurt her other side, but if she didn't act normal he was sure to notice. "I lost so much time to study for the N.E.W.T. test I have to make sure I'm covering everything."

"You've been prepared for two years," Ron reminded, looking elsewhere in the crowd. He didn't notice the details as much, and Ron was much easier to fool when she needed to. "You have nothing to worry about. Why don't you come over to the common room tonight? You haven't come by practically since term started."

She swallowed, fighting down her nerves. Yes, she loved going to see her friends, but she was worried about running into him in the corridors. He found her just days after school started again, and he'd reminded her of just how evil he could be.

Her side was still tender from the encounter, more so than usual. Her body always hurt from the never-ending cuts, but after that first slip-up she'd learned to be extra-cautious.

If she could just find a counter to this damn spell, she'd be home free. If the cuts would close up she wouldn't be in all this pain.

"I need to meet with Malfoy tonight about patrols," she replied, rolling her eyes. "He is so difficult to schedule with, but I know he'll be there tonight. I have to catch him or we'll never get the schedule done."

Harry frowned again, pulling her a little closer as they walked. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from reacting when her side bumped his, fisting her hand together inside the pocket of her robe. Ron was looking in the other direction, and she knew he was already off somewhere else in his mind. "That shouldn't take all night."

Hermione laughed, this time knowing she could tell the truth. "You don't spend time with Malfoy. He's a right arse to try and catch, and it's even harder to get him to listen."

Relenting Harry let the topic drop, steering them towards the Great Hall. She fell into step with him, ignoring the pain in her side. She was occupied tonight, but not with
Malfoy.

She had to get books and get back to her room. The last thing she wanted was to run into Malfoy and his friends. But she had to research, she had to find a way to stop him.

She had to break this spell.


For Hermione, the most nerve-wracking part of her day was getting from the door of their common room to her bedroom safely. When it was just Malfoy she could sidestep the bloke, but when he was there it was so much harder.

Maybe Malfoy didn't notice, and he probably didn't care, but how could he miss the malice in his friend's face? Malfoy was mean, but he was downright sinister.

Stepping into the common room she realized luck was not on her side. Already the marks on her skin were starting to sting, and she knew they would burn and bleed soon enough. He seemed to have influence over the spell when he was close, or at least that's what she assumed, and that meant he was in the dorm somewhere.

Shutting the door, she realized he was sitting in the chair right behind it. Despite herself she jumped a little, already feeling the cuts rising in her skin, pain cutting across her chest and back. Across the coffee table on the sofa, Malfoy and Nott seemed oblivious to his venomous stare, carrying on their conversation as though nothing abnormal was going on.

"And then the bloke actually had the audacity to ask if I spiked the drinks!" Nott continued, laughing at his own joke. Theo had a bottle of something in his hand, but between the stack of books in her arms and her desire to not look his way, she could care less about what the label said.

Malfoy glanced sideways at her as she kicked the door shut, crinkling his nose. "Don't you have enough bloody books in there? You come back with at least that many every day."

Beside her he scoffed, causing her heart to jump. "Leave her be Draco. At least she's keeping herself occupied."

Draco scowled, leaning further into the sofa, his own bottle propped on the table. "Bugger off Blaise. There aren't enough books in the fucking world to occupy her."

She recoiled even at just his name, shooting Zabini a glance over her shoulder as she stepped towards her room.

Zabini, the reason she couldn't sleep at night.

You're never going to forget me, Mudblood.

Zabini, who scared her more than anyone else she encountered during the war. Of course it had to be Malfoy's friend, someone she was likely to run into again.

She never knew he could be so cold.

Hermione felt her shirt begin to dampen as she moved towards her room, flicking the handle with her elbow. Blaise's gaze was locked on her as she pushed into her room, realizing as the door swung shut that a line of blood was starting to drip down her neck.

And Malfoy and Nott somehow missed it. Everyone missed it every damn time.

Dropping her books on the bed she let out a hiss, dropping her hands down onto her mattress. Taking a deep breath she snatched her wand out of her back pocket, warding and locking the door in an instant. She wasn't stupid enough to take any chances.

Taking a strangled breath she stood and unbuttoned her shirt, whimpering as she pulled the fabric away from her skin, now littered with marks that weren't bleeding before. She looked down at herself and suppressed a scream.

Little, painful lines ran across her chest, torso and arms, lines dripping bits of blood as she stood watching. These damn marks that she couldn't heal no matter the potion or spell; Zabini's never-ending reminder on her skin.

Zabini.

I'll ruin you.

She clenched her eyes shut, trying to calm herself down. The pain was causing her knees to shake as the cuts widened, dripping more blood and she fell to her knees, pain shooting up her body on contact.

Even after all these months, he still left his mark on her, a mark she couldn't seem to erase.

He'd tortured her there at the Manor, dragging her away when Bellatrix grew bored. The curses he'd used to make the marks stay and last, bleeding on command.

She blinked, feeling her eyes water. It hurt, but the memory was so much worse. He'd used some kind of dark curse, and even muggle means only slowed the pain of those cuts. She had to find a cure for herself to stop from bleeding and hurting, she just needed to find the right book.

She needed to stay away from him.

Taking a deep breath she wandered to the shared bathroom, listening intently in case Malfoy or one of his friends decided they needed to come in. Using practiced movements she soaked a towel to apply to her wounds, wincing and gasping whether the pain intensified.

He seemed to control the pain just by being near, but how was that possible?

Most of the time he didn't even need to be near to cause her distress. The cuts were almost on a timer, and once a day would begin to bleed and throb. There was a dull ache of pain surrounding her nowadays anyway, but when Zabini was nearby it seemed to intensify.

Pressing a towel to the largest wound on her torso she suppressed a scream, the water seeming to burn instead of help. It was always worse when he was this close but she didn't know what else to do, magic didn't help.

I have to do something; he could kill me if he keeps this up.

Sinking onto the bathroom floor she tried to calm her mind. Panicking never helped her, and she needed to rationally wrap the wounds to try and stop the bleeding as she had done since that cursed day. She thought for a while it was just the lasting evidence of torture, but as time passed and the wounds never truly healed she realized something was terribly wrong.

Dragging herself back to her feet, she snatched up a second towel to return to her room. She kept all the bandages she'd obtained hidden in there, in the second drawer next to her bed. The last thing she needed was Malfoy or one of his friends finding them.

Sitting down on her bed she began wrapping the bandages around her torso, hoping the combination of bandages and potions would help her get some sleep tonight. She wouldn't feel better until Zabini left the dorm, but hopefully she could get some rest.

Glancing towards the door, she bit back a combination of anger and disappointment. Zabini seemed to believe he had complete control over her after everything, and he didn't even try to hide his hate for her these days.

She had to get him back. She had to find a way to save herself.


Draco knew his roommate was acting weird. Despite having shared a dorm with her for over a month she rarely had anything to say to him, and spent most of her time locked away in her room like a recluse.

What the bloody hell?

He attempted to listen to Blaise drone on about something but couldn't really focus. For some reason these two blokes always wanted to come up to his dorm instead of hanging out in the Slytherin common room. Sure, this is more private, but Zabini always wanted to come up here the same time every day.

He was starting to think he had a thing for Granger, but knew that was impossible. Blaise had a stronger hate for Mudblood's than he did; he couldn't imagine the bloke actually having feelings for one.

Then again, when she wasn't trying to hide under those god-awful sweaters Granger seemed to have developed some sort of body. After sharing a bathroom for the last several weeks he'd at least noticed that much.

Still, Blaise shouldn't be feeling anything for her. He was more likely to try to kill her than admire her.

"Don't you think so Draco?"

He suppressed a scowl, glancing at his longtime friend. Blaise wasn't looking in his direction however, he seemed solely focused on Granger's door.

He always seemed to be focusing on her door.

"Think what?"

"Mudblood's been awfully studious lately," Blaise continued, narrowing his eyes a little. "You said she comes by with books every day? That seems like a lot of reading, even for her. Those books don't seem like the kind you have to read for N.E.W.T.'s."

Draco suppressed a groan, reaching forward towards his bottle again. "What does it matter? She reads, she doesn't bother me. Better yet, she doesn't bring those bleeding friends of hers around here."

"She doesn't?"

"You sure do care a lot about Granger," Theo interrupted, sitting forward in his seat. "You ask about her almost every day. Think you got a little crush going on?"

Blaise scowled, a shadow coming over his eyes surprisingly quick. "No, I don't."

Draco nodded, eyeing Blaise over the rim of his bottle. There he goes again, acting strange.

They dropped the topic, switching to something to do with Quidditch. Draco attempted to focus but couldn't quite zone in on the conversation. Blaise was focusing awfully hard on Granger's door, like he expected her to suddenly come flying out of the room.

He always seemed to be looking for her.

Draco just couldn't figure out what was so damn interesting about Granger. To his knowledge, Blaise never spent a lot of time with her. The only time he'd even been in the same general area as the girl this past year was the day she and her little friends were captured and brought to the Manor.

Stop thinking about it.

He reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. The day Potter came to his home was a fateful day indeed. He could still see Bellatrix in his mind torturing the girl, before dragging her off up the stairs to continue interrogation when her friends grew distracting.

He remembered that day very well.

While Granger was upstairs being tortured the Order attached. The Dark Lord was there that night, and the battle ensued. Potter ended up killing Voldemort, and at some point Granger was found and taken away. None of the Golden Trio were around when Draco stumbled out of what was left of his home and was arrested on site with the other members.

It happened so quickly there was no time to prepare. Voldemort wasn't supposed to be there that day, and no one planned for the Golden Trio to be captured. Longbottom finished off the last Horcrux, and the war was wrapped up in hours.

Draco knew Bella was killed upstairs, but he'd heard through the grapevine that she wasn't near where Granger was found. In fact, if everything he heard was true she wasn't even in the same wing anymore as his aunt, and Granger was hardly recognizable when they located her.

They thought she was dead at first. He wondered what his aunt did to her exactly, but didn't dare ask. Granger never had to testify about what happened, as Bella was dead by the time the Order won.

He didn't really want to know. He didn't really feel guilty about what happened to her; there was no controlling Bella. Still, he didn't ask her about anything to do with the war when they found out they were roommates. Most of the time he just avoided Granger altogether.

She hated him, and that was fine. He wasn't exactly fond of her either.

He'd barely escaped Azkaban by the skin of his teeth after that, Blaise and Nott following suit. He never quite figured out why Blaise's trial seemed so much longer than his own.

"Anyway I have to meet Daphne," Blaise continued, standing from his seat. He cast another look in the direction of Granger's room, his lips practically curling into a snarl. Draco still wasn't exactly sure why his hatred ran so deep. "I promised I'd go find her tonight."

"I guess I better go too," Theo agreed, standing to stretch. He lifted his bottle in a salute as he wandered towards the door, swaying but not staggering. "If I don't I won't be able to make it down there later."

Draco smirked, following the duo to the door. This was a little more normal than before, but he still couldn't escape the feeling that Blaise was extra moody tonight. The Italian shot a glare over his shoulder as the main door swung open, as though he expected to spot Granger somewhere before departing.

"Tomorrow's Saturday," Theo reminded, jabbing a finger over his shoulder in the hallway. "Means a Hogsmeade trip. You in?"

"Not like I have anything else to do," Draco replied, inclining his head. Blaise was still halfway in the door, and he gave his friend a nudge with the frame. He was acting strange.

Glancing over his shoulder he noticed Granger was in the doorway to her room, staring out at Zabini with an expression of panic. He hadn't even heard her come out. It seemed strange that she would be concerned about spotting his friends, especially since she had no reason to care and they were in the middle of leaving.

"Done reading Granger?" Blaise asked, eyes gleaming as he watched her. Draco frowned, nudging him with the door again.

"Zabini, your arse is blocking the door. Either get in or get the hell out."

Blaise smirked, following Theo out the door. "Don't get pissy Draco, I was just leaving."

Draco scoffed, shutting the door behind him. Zabini really knew how to grate his nerves when he wanted to. Turning he noticed Granger still standing in her doorway, arms crossed tight over her chest.

"What are you doing there?" he asked, walking back towards the table. "I thought you needed to read."

"I was just getting something to eat," she replied, her voice surprisingly hollow. He arched an eyebrow as she crossed the room, stopping beside their small kitchenette to dig through a cupboard. He tilted his head, noticing her sweater.

"You look bulky Granger."

She jumped, successfully dropping whatever snack she'd dug out of the cabinet, whirling around so fast she almost hit her head on the door. "What?"

Draco frowned, taking a sip of his drink, watching her eyes widen. "You look bulky. How many layers do you have going on under that bloody thing? It's October, it isn't that cold yet. We haven't even seen snow."

"Oh, my room is just chilly. Really I didn't think it mattered what I wore in here."

"No it doesn't," he replied, crinkling his nose. "But do you have to go for such a hideous look? No wonder Blaise was staring to you, you look like a moron."

She seemed to tense at his words, and Draco didn't miss the reaction. He'd noticed over the past few weeks that she never came out when Blaise was here, and she liked talking about him even less.

Blaise didn't seem to have a problem talking about her however.

"It's just a comfortable sweater Malfoy," she huffed, regaining her composure. She smoothed back her hair, grabbing the snack bag off the floor as she approached. She cringed when she stood, favoring one side. He'd noticed lately that she favored one side over the other, and she almost always had a hard time bending over.

Despite himself, he was starting to wonder why.

She walked a lot slower back to her dorm room, almost shuffling along. He hadn't seen her do that yet, and was nearly about to retort when he noticed something slipping down the back of her neck, leaving a thin trail.

"Are you bleeding?"

Granger froze at the door, her entire body tensing. One arm flew to the side of her neck, directly where the line was dripping down. He watched as a second one followed, almost seeming to rise out of her skin as blood appeared.

"I-it's nothing," she muttered, dropping the bag again. He stood, watching the second cut widen, the blood bubbling up before beginning to flow down her neck, painting the fingers pressed there red.

"Granger-"

She darted forward, slamming her door shut before he could make a move. Draco sat there a moment, stumped. Was he drunk, or was blood sprouting up on her skin out of nowhere?

He sank further into the sofa, rubbing his eyes. It was probably an illusion, a trick of the light. Maybe he was getting buzzed already and just hadn't noticed yet.

But that didn't explain her reaction.

Shaking his head, he grabbed the bottle again. He was probably tripping, that was it. There was no logical reason why Granger would start bleeding out of thin air, and even less why she would try to brush it off.

Still, he knew she'd been acting weird. He'd have to keep an eye on her now.

A/n: So, if you haven't realized this deviates from most of book 7 and I intend for it to continue moving in a different direction. It will probably get darker, as I am a major fan of dark stories, but I can't say how dark.

Also, Blaise is usually the good guy in my stories so exploring a dark version of him would be a challenge for me. If I continue the story, it will delve deeper into the torture he inflicted on Hermione and what all that entails. If you believe it should be darker, or that seems to be the direction this should move, please specify.

I don't know if I will be continuing or not, I was on a break for a long time and am getting back into writing. We will see where this goes. Thank you for reading and if you have any thoughts please share.