A/N: This fic was inspired by the song Unfaithful by Rihanna, and some elements of personal experience. Rated for language, sexual content and dark themes. H/Hr and D/Hr.

I'm a bit of newb at this so any pointers etc. would be much appreciated. Reviews are awesome so I know whether or not I'm on the right track.

Hope you enjoy = )

I don't know when it changed. I don't know why. All I know is how I felt when I realised.

It was like a blow to the chest… no. More like a blow to the heart. And the head. Hard enough to send me reeling. Deliciously horrifying, exquisitely painful.

Twisted. Dirty. Wrong.

Have you ever felt like you're being torn apart? Metaphorically, of course, but no less agonising. When your head wants one thing, and your heart wants another, and you can't even tell anymore which is which? When to try and choose is akin to deciding whether water or oxygen is more vital to life?

But, of course, none of this makes any sense, unless you know the circumstance. Even then, judgement is easy when you lack the experience. Maybe once you know, you'll understand.

Maybe if someone understands, the pain will go away.

"Fuck!"

I winced and clumsily pulled myself up from my sprawled position on the grass. Looking around, I saw the offending object I had tripped over; a tree-root, slyly hidden behind a mound of earth. As I gingerly tested my weight on the affected foot, I heard mocking laughter from behind me.

"Nice one, Granger!"

Malfoy. Of course. If I was going to make a total ass of myself, it would have to be in front of that idiot and his group of adoring fan boys.

Restraining myself from pulling out my wand and hexing the lot of them, I marched away as fast as dignity and my painful ankle would allow. I could hear them cat-calling after me, but chose to ignore it. As gratifying as taking out my wounded pride on them would be, it would only make things worse in the long run.

I reached Gryffindor Tower in considerably more pain than I had expected - apparently I'd hurt my ankle rather more seriously than I'd originally thought. Collapsing on my bed, I eased off my shoe and sock and inspected it. There was a little swelling, but nothing worse; nothing resting it for a while wouldn't fix. Of course, that did leave the problem that I was confined to my room for at least the remainder of the day.

Sighing, I reached into my bedside drawer and extracted my Arithmancy book. Might as well get some homework done in the meantime. I took my quill from my bag and was soon lost in the work.

Suddenly, a tap on my head made me look up. There was a paper aeroplane hovering in front of me, nudging my forehead. Slightly exasperated at the interruption, I yanked it out of the air and opened it.

I saw you come in. You walked straight past me. What's up? Come downstairs! Love you.

In spite of myself, I smiled. Harry. I hadn't realised he was in the common room, in my hurry to get to the dormitory and rest my foot. Unfortunately for him, I was in no fit state to be wandering up and down a staircase, and the girls' room had an inconvenient 'anti-male' safety-guard.

Harry and I had been dating since the end of our fifth year at Hogwarts. It had surprised some of our friends, but I personally didn't see what the problem was. We'd been best friends since our first term, and to my mind the attraction between us must have been screamingly obvious to all but the dullest of observers. Admittedly, we had our fair share of sceptics; the number of times I'd been called a gold-digger, or some variation thereof, would have made me independently wealthy had I received a knut for every comment. Added to that were those who still held up my brief relationship with Krum in fourth year as a reasonable impediment, despite the fact that it only lasted a few months.

To my mind, the biggest obstacle had been Ron. He'd taken the revelation very badly at first, and it wasn't until well into sixth year that he'd finally come to terms with it. I'm not sure whether his objections were due to a lingering crush on me, or the fear of me stealing his best friend away, or some weird combination of the two. He'd reconciled himself to it now, though, and the little tensions in our friendship threesome had melted gradually away as sixth year came to a close. Harry and I weren't the most demonstrative couple, which probably helped a little.

Now, halfway through our final year, Harry, Ron and I were as tight-knit as we ever had been, save the usual affectionate griping between me and Ron, which was more of a habit than anything else. Harry and I had settled happily into a routine that was comfortable without being tedious. We didn't smother each other, argue much, or get bored in the time we spent together. Everything was pretty much perfect.

Thinking about this, I scribbled a reply on the back of the note:

Tripped over outside and hurt my ankle. Nothing serious, but I need to rest it up for a while. I'll come down later on. Love you too.

P.S. Get some work done while you wait!

I sent the note swooping back down the stairs, but for once in my life found I couldn't get my concentration back sufficiently to focus on my work. Sighing, I laid the book aside and lay back on the bed, letting my mind drift off…

I was running. It was dark. The trees were closing in around me, and I could hear screams on the air. Screams of terror. Screams of pain. The dark laugh of the enemy as he followed me.

Pointless to try and escape. He'd find me, just like he'd found the others. He'd find me, and when he did, death would be a blessing compared with what he'd do to me, to discover what I knew. And terrible as my suffering would be, it would be nothing to that of those I might betray.

I ran, stumbled, picked myself up and ran again. The laughter was closing in, louder now and coming from all sides. The trees loomed angrily above me, trying to block my way. The wind howled and moaned, and lightning cracked in the air.

"Hermione, this way!" I whipped my head around, trying to find the source of the voice, but it was faint, and fading even as I heard it. I tried to follow it, zigzagging between the trees, trying to find the source.

"Over here!" Louder now, off to my left. I ran towards the sound, heart pounding, gasping for breath. I was on the point of collapse, but somehow I knew, if I could only get to the voice, I'd be safe. I'd be home.

A figure, shadowy and shrouded up ahead, just visible through the maze of trees and branches. Holding out his arms, calling my name, urging me forwards. I willed my tired legs to keep running, to reach my saviour; the closer I got, the more the wind seemed to quiet, the storm ceased to squall. The evil laughter faded and died.

I collapsed into his arms, and it all stopped. I was with him, and nothing else mattered. His arms around me, the smell of him, the way he stroked my hair and soothingly murmured my name. He held me tight, calming me. I could feel his heart beating against mine where we were pressed together.

"It's ok, Hermione. You're safe, I've got you, there's nothing to be afraid of anymore."

He cupped my face in his hand and brought my head up, brushing my tears away with his thumb as he leaned in to kiss me…

I woke with a start, heart still hammering. I'd had the dream many times, so much that I almost knew it by heart. Every detail, always the same. I wiped the sweat from my forehead and groggily sat up, slightly disoriented by the darkness in the room.

It wasn't until then that it hit me, and the shock of the revelation nearly made me cry out in alarm. There had been something different this time, and the realisation of what it was sent a shudder of revulsion through me.

This time, my saviour had not been Harry.

This time, it had been Malfoy.