AN: Okay this is my first ever Dramione fanfic! Finally plucked up the courage to let you guys read one! Please read and review, I want to know what you think :3
Disclaimer: All character names, spell names and locations belong to the beautiful creation of J.K Rowling's mind. I only own the plot.
The long halls of Hogwarts were bathed in the moonlight, the portraits in their frames sleeping soundly and undisturbed. All was still in the castle, all but one. Draco Malfoy hurriedly exited the Slytherin dungeons, barefoot and still in his silk green pyjamas and ran up the nearest flight of stairs. He rushed down the corridors, turning corners until he finally came to his destination. He was at the end of a long, dark, hall. No paintings or portraits hung on the walls, no carpet on the floors and no lights hanging from the ceiling. The hall was deserted. Draco pulled out his wand and muttered 'Lumos', filling the hall with a bright beam of light bursting from the tip of his wand. He could now see a tall wooden door at the end of the hall. He started walking again.
No one had been to this part of the castle before, only Draco. Since he had been acquainted by The Dark Lord, Draco had frequently been back and forth to this very hall. He thought about the terrible things he had witnessed behind the wooden door. He winced, and pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind.
The Dark Lord had made it well-known that his more recent mission was to kill all of the muggle-borns in the Wizarding Word. Everyone knew he despised their very existence and thought they were inferior. Most of the muggle-borns all over Wizarding-London had gone into hiding with their families, afraid to be caught by the Death Eaters that openly wandered the streets, taking muggle-born prisoners and bringing them to The Dark Lord. There, they met their worst nightmares, being tortured just for pure, sick, twisted humour, before they were mercilessly killed. The Dark Lord had ordered Draco to participate in this, something which Draco hated deeply. However, he hated his recent task far more.
Draco had once again attended Hogwarts for his seventh year, his fellow classmates oblivious to the painful dark tattoo inked onto his skin on his left forearm. He had been appointed as a fellow Death Eater, and The Dark Lord saw him as an opportunity to get closer to his ultimate goal yet: the killing of the famous muggle-born, Hermione Granger.
Draco reached the door. He muttered an incantation to unlock it, turned the handle and walked through the frame. He was now in a small-ish room. It was completely bare, like a prison cell. No bed, no table, no windows, no nothing. In the far corner of the room, rusty chains were attached to the damp wall. And locked into those chains, sprawled over the cold, hard floor was Hermione. She seemed to be asleep. Draco took this opportunity to look over her appearance. Her normally soft and curly honey-coloured hair was now matted with dried blood from when she had been tortured. The skin on her face had been broken and cuts and bruises scattered her once pretty features. She had become so thin... so, so thin. Hermione had changed so much, just a ghost of the girl she used to be and it was because of Draco. He quickly broke his gaze.
"Here," he said gruffly, shoving a small china plate towards her. The collision between the plate and the floor created a loud screeching noise. Hermione flinched and slowly woke up, revealing a pair of chocolate brown eyes to Draco. Hesitantly, she moved forward on her hands and knees, causing the chains to clank across the floor and greedily snatched up the stale food on the plate. She didn't say anything as she ate, she just stared at him.
Draco started to become uncomfortable under her watch. He shifted, ready to walk out again, but she stopped him with a clear of her throat. He raised an eyebrow expectantly.
"I, um..." she muttered hoarsely. "I wanted to... um... thank you for the other day..."
Draco's cheeks coloured and he looked back towards the door. 'I could just leave,' he thought. 'It would be a nicer way to show her that it was just a mistake.' But Draco's Death Eater instincts took over and he turned slowly to face her. He wasn't here to be nice. Suddenly, he launched himself at Hermione and grabbed her shoulders in a tight grip. She yelped in pain, her eyes huge with fright and shock. He pushed his face right up to hers, his features contorted with hate.
"Now listen here," he growled. "What I did the other day, when I defended your pathetic existence, was a mistake."
Hermione's eyes widened even more and started to fill up with unshed tears. Draco ignored this and continued.
"It is my pleasure to see you in pain. Having to torture you gives me a rush. However," he spat, "it may not give me the same rush to see somebody else torturing you."
And with that, he threw Hermione out of his grasp. She fell to the floor with a thud and let her tears flow freely. Draco stood up abruptly and walked out of the room without a backward glance.
Draco could feel his heart pumping in his chest as he leant against the closed door. He hadn't meant for Hermione to perceive his actions as ones of kindness, he was merely doing it because he couldn't stand the fact to watch other Death Eaters torture her. When Draco was forced to do it, he could make it weak; make it easier for her to bear. When the others did it, there was no telling how much pain they could inflict. Draco rubbed his eyes wearily. He knew he would have to come down on her soon; otherwise the Dark Lord would have something to say about it. It was going to be hard. Because ever since Draco started making daily visits to Hermione Granger, it was getting harder for him to get rid of her from his head.