Hermione sighed into her squishy chair that smelled familiar and of leather bindings.

A cup of warm cocoa sat on the chair's arm and a book sat in her lap.

It was summer, she was home alone, and trying her absolute best to forget the worry and stress that was starting to wear on her youth.

Soon, her shoulders finally having dropped to a less stressed level as she lost herself in the good book and the warm cocoa. So much so, in fact, that she ignored that feeling of unease one gets when fate is trying to tell you something bad is about to happen, so brace yourself. Then, when fate sent her that feeling of absolute dread, she still ignored it. You'd think that after all the dangers she'd been through, she would've learned to pay more attention to her instincts.

The footsteps were too easy to ignore.

Fate stopped trying to send her warnings, and gave up, closing it's eyes to the horrible scene that was about to play itself out.

When the door opened, it was silent, save for a small creak that fate decided to throw in one more time. 'Enough!', it told itself, and shut out all it's hearing as well.

The curse was silent and caught her by complete surprise.

Pain seared through her, a loud scream ripping from her lungs before she caught herself and bit her tongue.

Hermione Granger was a Gryffindor. And Gryffindors have 'nerve'. This particular Gryffindor had the 'nerve' to hold back her screams as the Death Eater placed the Cruciatus Curse on her.

"She has a strong will." A thick voice drawled. Luscious Malfoy.

Fate tried it's best to stop peeking.

"Something we will soon break her of." A loud cackle rang high through out the room. Belletrix LeStrange.

"Stop that. The Dark Lord wanted her untouched."

"Well, it's not like I did anything too bad. She barely even screamed." The curse stopped, and Hermione's limp body fell to the floor.

"Now, really. You're going to get yourself into useless trouble all because of- Imperio!"

Hermione was frozen solid from the curse, her hand hovering over her wand, which sat on the chair's arm. Her cocoa was left on the floor, it's contents oozing out, creating a large, light blown lake slowly inching it's way forward on the hard wood floors.

"Honestly, woman! You didn't think she would go for her wand?" Luscious Malfoy's voice rang out, loud and strong, and quite angered. "Forget it! Take her away. The Dark lord is waiting." He grumbled.

A tear ran down Hermione Granger's cheek. Whatever the Dark Lord wanted, this wasn't going to be good.

--o--

One week later. The constant search for Hermione Granger was unnerving. I sat on the couch and waited. My father stood before me, and I could hear nothing from the other room. My palms were sweaty, my lips quivering, My hands kept making their way through my hair. Where was all my Malfoy self-control now?

I just couldn't stand it. There Hermione lay, just five feet in front of me, behind a thin door, and I could do nothing about it. This was the third time the Dark Lord had been over, torturing her.

A shiver of pure bloodlust ran down my spine.

"Draco. Sit still. You don't want the Dark Lord coming in and seeing you cowering in fear." My Father sneered into my ear, a low hiss.

Ha. Fear. Yeah, right.

This was pure, unadulterated hate.

Never before did I hate the Dark Lord more than I have now.

"Yes, Father." I ran my hand through my hair one more time, bit my bottom lip and found some self control. Three seconds later, the door opened.

I looked up, and my eyes widened.

There she was, silver chains holding her in place to the cobblestone ground. Her blood started to leek slowly on the floor, mixing itself with the dirt floor.

She was crying, covered in bruises, and flinched at the light.

Her wand sat in shards next to her.

The door closed with a light click and I saw his hand covered in blood.

Crimson, thick, sticky blood.

I almost jumped from my seat and wrung his neck.

I kept my eyes on the ground, and all of my boiling thoughts inside of me.

The Dark lord smirked, I could tell without even looking up.

--o--

I crept along the dark hallways, dressed in my pajama's, wand in hand, having put a silencing spell over my feet, so I didn't try to walk silently. Magic was doing that for me.

I looked around nervously.

If anybody saw me doing this, I'd be killed on the spot.

I made it to a certain door and looked around once more.

Dried blood still coated on the silver doorknob.

I watched it, thinking.

She wouldn't want to see me.

The light would scare her.

I couldn't save her.

But I could make it easier. Maybe.

I glanced around once more, and opened the door. Hermione was asleep.

She was asleep. Asleep.

She'd just been tortured hours ago, and she was asleep.

This wasn't knocked out sleep, or exhausted sleep.

This was peaceful, I chose to sleep, sleep.

Hermione had some nerve.

I smirked and closed the door softly behind me.

No one could hear us from in here, the Dark Lord put a powerful silencing spell over this.

I walked quietly over to her and sank to my knees. Blood soaked through my clothes. I went pale.

Hermione continued to sleep.

My hand reached out to her, shaking slightly.

Her skin, even in its bruised and battered state, was soft.

My fingers barely touched her.

They burned and tingled for more.

I couldn't help but to comply.

They caressed her shoulder. Following the curve and swirling back in a large, soft circle.

She mumbled in her sleep, but didn't move.

The shackles clacked against each other.

There were five in all.

Both wrists, both ankles, and one around her neck.

I got up.

Her blood clung to my sweatpants, glistening in the soft light as I closed the door behind me.

I cleaned them off and wondered back to my room.

I mustn't visit tomorrow night.

It would only cause problems

--o--

So here I was.

Standing outside of her door.

I thought I'd decided not to come....

I opened it, and there she was, asleep again.

The nerve of her.

I smiled, a true smile, and slipped in.

I laid down next to her, and placed my chin on my arms.

I watched her for a long time.

My fingers started to itch, begging me to allow them to touch her.

I soon complied.

They traced her cheek, twirling against her skin.

Her lips parted.

I noticed how soft and pink her lips were.

The tingles that seared my fingertips somehow managed to find their way to my lips.

This idiot girl.

No, woman. Idiot woman.

She was ruining my entire life, and has been for three years.

The nerve of this woman.

I'm not sure what made me do it, but I leaned closer.

Her warmth crashed against me in the cold air that filled this prison cell.

I was being completely selfish with these visits.

Her hair smelled of peaches. How is that? She's been here almost two weeks.

I swallowed.

My mouth was suddenly very full of thick saliva.

She's asleep still.

I pushed away from her. My entire body pleaded me to go back.

I admit it.

I was scared.

I ran away.

--o--

Here I was, at the door again.

The absolute nerve of this woman!

She was constantly bombarding me. Attacking my senses.

I couldn't sleep anymore!

It's been a week.

An entire week.

I've felt cold for an entire week now.

And just like I always knew I would, I opened the door.

I didn't allow myself to look at her yet.

I closed the door first, and leaned against the wall. Waiting.

Her breathing wasn't soft like the other times.

She was scared.

I ran my fingers down the wall.

"I won't hurt you." I didn't even try to keep my voice low.

"I know." Her voice was soft and cracked.

She knew? How did she-?

"You've been here before."

I looked over at her, my confusion plastered all over my face.

Wasn't she asleep?

"Come sit next to me. Please? It's cold."

I smiled.

The nerve.

I gave my bare feet a louder slap, so she wouldn't be startled when I sat down next to her.

We sat there, in silence.

How does she still smell like peaches? Fainter now, though, but still there. Lingering in the air. The smell danced around me, fussing with my thought process.

Then she laid her head on my shoulder.

The smell became stronger.

It was getting harder to think.

I shrugged my shoulder and scooted away.

I rather liked these visits, and didn't want to ruin them.

She looked hurt. I avoided her eyes.

Why was I here again?

I was being selfish.

But, then again, isn't that the Malfoy way?

"Why are you here, Malfoy?"

"I'm being selfish."

She scoffed and I looked up at her.

"Selfish? How are you being selfish?"

"Well, because. You're locked away. Far away, from the rest of the world. You're here for the Dark Lord's sick will. And I'm supposed to be happy about it. But I can't, Hermione. I can't be happy, or okay with the things he's doing to you. I come here, during the night, when nobody knows about it, and all I want is to touch you. To hold you close and take you far away from this place. But I can't Hermione, I just can't because-"

Bloody hell!

Hermione was kissing me!

My eyes closed. My lips moved.

Wha-? Why? Hu-?

Oh, forget it.

Right now, I don't care if she's probably only doing this because I'm her only human contact.

Her only way of escaping this place.

Right now, her warmth was crushing me.

The smell of peaches was extremely intoxicating.

My hand weaved their way through her hair, and the other around her waist, pulling her closer.

She didn't object.

That's when the door was flung open.

I didn't care. She was scared silly, but I moved her away from the light, hid her behind myself, laying her on the ground.

"Hermione." I whispered against her ear. She was crying. I wonder why?

"I love you." I kissed her cheek, repeating this over and over in her ear.

They were going to kill me either way, so why not steal this moment, too?

They'd kill me, but not Hermione.

I slipped my wand from my pocket.

Time slowed as the screaming started from the doorway.

I kept whispering in her ear, distracting her from my wand, slowly making its way to her neck.

The curse was silent, and tears stung my eyes.

There was no other way.

They would kill her slowly, so I was saving her, right?

No. I was being selfish again.

Strange, she was the only one who made me feel like being selfish was a bad thing.

"I love you." The curse swept through her body, and she immediately stilled.

Mere seconds later, I felt the curse hit my back.

I slipped away. It was easy, the darkness enveloped me and I knew that I'd made the right choice.

--o--

Hermione woke up in a hospital bed at St. Mungo's a week later.

There was no telling what she'd been through during her torture in the Dark Lord's grip.

He'd left her somewhere, thinking she was dead.

It was old magic. A curse to make everything stop.

No heartbeat, no pulse, no anything.

It was well known, in old stories muggles used to write, but never used anymore. The curse was long forgotten. How Draco came across it, Fate will keep that one hidden.

Draco Malfoy was dead as well.

It was deduced from the words 'traitor' written in his fleash on his forehead that Draco knew of this old curse. He'd saved her, but nobody really knew why.

Hermione was surrounded by friends and family. She was shaking. Everyone thought she was just afraid.

But her heart was breaking.

Draco had died for her, saved her life.

He loved her.

Hermione told no one.

She kept the memories to herself, feigning confusion at Draco's sacrifice.

Fate gave a sad smile. It could only do so much.

The peaches idea was brilliant on Fate's part. The old curse was just as brilliant.

But, it hadn't thought ahead to the bloodbath that would've happened.

I know it's a sad ending, but I rather enjoy those. At the least Hermione lived. That's a plus.

Just so you guys know, he fell in love with her after she slapped him. Ha ha! That still makes me laugh.

I like this. What do you guys think? Tell me, please! ^^

-Lulu