Disclaimer: Yep...don't own them. Also don't write too much, so flame if you must, but encouragement and helpful advice are so much better.

This is a Draco/ Hermione, with a little bit of Hermione/ Harry and Hermione/ Ron at times...but what's a good story without plot twists?

There will definitely be some sex in this thing, and possibly even some rape, so you've been forwarned.

Prologue

Draco stared down at the piece of paper. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be, there was no way. He wasn't ready to receive this. He didn't want to anymore. Draco looked up at his mother.

"He's calling me to the Dark Lord...in January." He said blankly. His mother let out a small gasp before recapturing herself.

"Well...he..." she was at a loss for words herself. "There must be some sort of a mistake..." she whispered. Though they both knew that this was not a mistake, earning to the fact that they knew that this would be coming sometime between 6th and 7th year. Draco was getting ready to start his final year at school. Since his father had gone into hiding with the Dark Lord a year ago, Draco hadn't thought much about when this note would be coming. All he knew was that he didn't want to join his father, and especially not at the side of the dark lord. But there wasn't anything that could be done.

"I hate him," Draco mumbled as he turned quickly on his heels and stormed out of the study.

"Draco, wait!" His mother called after him, but to no avail, Draco was already out the back door. He couldn't stop. He knew that it was cold outside, but he couldn't stop walking. He knew that he couldn't walk off a request like this. When it came to the Dark Lord, neither ignoring nor running away would make any sort of a difference at all. Draco finally got to the bench that sat opposite the manor by way of the hedge maze, that was right on the edge of the lake. He knew his mother would never even think to look this far out from the manor. Draco pulled out a cigarette and his lighter. There were a few muggle things that Draco definitely wasn't too good for. He had become a smoker during a trip to visit his Aunt in the Americas. And now, it was his only comfort. His only friend. Quite a morbid one at that, but there wasn't much to be done about it. He didn't exactly enjoy it, but it made him feel better, that was for sure. As his first puff slowly slipped out between his lips, he closed his eyes. There had to be something that could be done, he just couldn't imagine what it would be. It would take thinking. It would take time...time which he didn't have.

Why hadn't he anticipated this sooner. He had been too caught up in his new found freedom away from his father that he hadn't even considered this. And it all made him feel sick. He imagined his life with the Dark Lord. He would surely wed an evil bride...this wasn't the first time in his life that he had contemplated why his mother had married his father. She was such a gentle caring woman. He was a heartless bastard. There was no way that they simply came together on their own. It had probably been arranged, similar to the plans that were on hold from being made for himself and Pansy.

Draco looked over the lake. How could there be something so beautiful in a place and time of so much evil. How was it even possible?

There were too many books. Altogether too many. As Hermione contemplated which ones to shelve and which ones to take back to school, she caught sight of the sky out of her window. It was beginning to get over cast. Hermione smiled to herself. She loved rain. It was so cleansing. She felt a small shiver go down her back as she sort of hugged herself lightly. Hermione had recently turned 17 during the summer, and she had had quite the awakening. She started to think about boys in a much different light. She had always liked boys of course, and she had certainly been liked by a few. But she hadn't developed to her full potential until this summer. She was now a slim body of curves. Boys had begun to notice her as a sex object, and although she was entirely against that kind of thing, she kind of enjoyed it. Kind of. A few things had come along with her sudden budding that she chose to never think about, although they, or, it, was always there.

Not that it made too much of a difference to her. She was still the same girl, wore the same type of clothing. But she had begun to fantasize about boys, wild fantasies involving things she couldn't even write in her diary about. Things she just assume keep to herself. She looked over at herself in the mirror as she began to fold clothing. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a green sweater. When she really thought about it, she guessed that she didn't look all that bad. She still didn't understand what all the fuss was about, though. There were plenty of girls who were better looking than she was. On the plus side, she had certainly tamed her hair over the summer. Her mother had given her a hair straightener, and it had done wonders.

She looked around her room. She had exactly one week to go before she would be catching the Hogwarts Express to go back to school, but having everything packed left her worry free for the remainder of the summer. She had bitter sweet feelings about going back. It was weird thinking about this being their last year at school. It was the last year that they would constantly have Dumbledore's eye on them, secretly watching their every move. It was the last year that Harry would have to deal with Prof. Snape breathing down his neck as he worked on potions. It was the last year that Malfoy and his gang of goons would insult their group. And although that was certainly a good thing, Hermione didn't know how ready for growing up she was. She had always been such a good student, a good person, she felt as though maybe she had missed out a bit on her childhood. Sometimes things happened, certain things that made going back to a normal childhood almost impossible. But no, she hadn't grown up too fast. Maybe she just hadn't gotten into enough mischief with her friends at an age when it was still acceptable.

With these thoughts on her mind, she left her room and went down stairs, enjoying the feel of the carpeted floor beneath her bare feet and toes. She got to the bottom and walked into the kitchen, where her mother sat reading a letter. The look on her face immediately told Hermione that something was wrong.

"Mum?" She asked, trying to keep her tone soft so she wouldn't disturb her too much. Her mother looked up at her, a small and feeble smile on her face, as she used her hand to sweep a few stray hairs off her face.

"Hermione," she said. "It's from your grandfather...bad news." Grandmum's dead, Hermione thought, proceeded by many more thoughts of what it could be. "Your Aunt Kathy had a bad fall and broke her hip, leg and some ribs. I'm gonna have to go stay with her for a bit...just to help her out until she can do things on her own again." Hermione felt her mouth involuntarily go into a frown.

"But...I mean...you were supposed to take me to the train station next Sunday..." Hermione said.

"I know," her mother said, looking back down at the letter. "But...you're just gonna have to go stay with the Weasleys...you don't mind, do you? It's not that big of a deal...Kathy needs me right now." Hermione nodded.

"It's ok...I'm guessing I should go and get my things?" Her mother nodded as Hermione turned to head back up the stairs.

Ron sat back on his bed. He felt completely hypnotized watching the Tornadoes fly around on their poster. No matter what anyone said, they were still the best Quidditch team there was. Over the past few years, Ron had become really very good at his position on the Gryfindor team, and he was hoping to take his playing to a career. It really was only a dream, but it was a big one, and he couldn't help but think about it. As he sat, mesmerized, a ringing noise broke the silence. It was the telephone. Their whole family had finally mastered the technique of a muggle telephone, and now had virtually no problem with it. He reached over and picked up the receiver.

"Weasley residence," he said.

"Ron? It's me, Hermione," said a sweet voice from the other end of the line. Ron felt his heart skip a beat at the sound of it.

"Hey, Hermione." Ron couldn't imagine why she would be calling. She usually just sent an owl. "Whattaya need?"

"Look, I know it's a bit late to ask, but...well, my mum isn't going to be available to take me to the train station any more, and she...well, and I were both wondering if it would be alright if I spent the end of summer with you guys." Ron couldn't contain the smile that was on his face. Having Hermione here for a whole week, all to himself. It was the most amazing thing that he could have possibly dreamed.

"Well, I'd have to check with mum, but I'm sure she'd love to have you round for the end of summer. Hold on a sec..." Ron placed the receiver down on his bed, and jumped up, eagerly awaiting the yes that his mother was sure to give him. He ran down 3 stories of the winding staircase of the Burrow, finding Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen, directing the pots and pans in making what looked like a delicious supper. "Mum," Ron said, stepping in and bending slightly to avoid hitting the beam above the stairs. Ron had reached a tall height of 6'5", much to the jealousy of Fred and George, for he had outgrown them but 3 inches. His hair was a more of a strawberry blonde now, and his body had become much more toned since he started playing quidditch.

"Oh, what is it, Ron," Mrs Weasley mocked. "You've been needing things all day long, can't you POSSIBLY do something for yourself."

"It's Hermione on the phone," he said. "She needs a place to stay for the rest of the week, and I told her that I'd ask you if it would be alright for her to stay here." Mrs. Weasley gave her first warm smile of the day.

"You can tell her that I think it would be lovely if she came to stay. And do ask her if she passed her aparating test yet? It would be ever so helpful." Ron smiled, already knowing the answer as he went back upstairs. Was there ever any task set before Hermione Granger that she couldn't complete? No. Never would be. He picked the phone back up.

"Mione? Yeah, my mom said that would be fine. She also wanted to know if you had passed your aparating test yet?" After a short pause, Hermione said,

"Oh, common, Ron. What do you think?" In a joking voice. He smiled to himself. He couldn't wait to see her, to get her all to himself. This would be the year that she would finally fall for him.

"Great...so...what time should we be expecting you." He stared out of his window at the sky as he awaited her answer. It was probably around noon, by the looks of it, although it was getting dark fast. There were rain clouds moving in, though he didn't mind. He loved rain.

"I'll be there around...4?" Hermione said, questioning herself slightly. Ron knew that she probably still had a lot of packing to do.

"I'll see you then," Ron said, and after she said a goodbye, he hung up the phone. He had so much to get done before Hermione got there. A lot had changed over the summer, and he wanted to make sure he, and everything else in the house, appeared at it's best when she arrived. First thing first, Ron hurried off to the bathroom for a shower.

The ceiling was still white. It was still white and boring. Harry decided he'd wait another minute maybe, see if anything changed. Unlikely. He'd been staring at his ceiling for 6 hours. Of course, on Privet Drive, there really wasn't much else to do. That was wrong. There were things. But they were all things that Harry took no amusement in at all. This was the best non-magical entertainment that Harry could come up with inside his room, and if there was one thing he'd learned by living there for 16 years, it was that it was best for everyone if he kept to himself in seclusion. That didn't always work. There was always one reason or another that Harry would be forced to leave his room, and then...Harry shuddered slightly to himself as he felt a small tear come to his eyes.

He hungered to talk to someone. He hadn't seen Ron or Hermione for the entire summer. Ron and his family had gone back to Egypt again, visiting Charlie, and Hermione had taken a trip with her family to the States, to some beach resort in Florida. He pictured Hermione sitting on the beach, surrounded by hot girls in bathing suits, and blonde blokes pursuing them, and then there was Hermione, glasses on, face buried in a book, a patch of white sun screen on her nose and wearing everything to keep her body sensibly covered.

Some people changed. Hermione wasn't one of them. That was something that Harry liked about Hermione best. He even knew that he was changing, but he could always count on Hermione to be there, the same girl he'd always known, and be a voice of reason. He wanted to talk to one of them so badly, but the chances of him getting undisturbed to the telephone, making a call and then coming back afterwards were slim to none.

A knock came to the door.

"Yes?" Harry answered in the least rude voice he could come up with, trying to hide any weakness that came with it.

"We're going out to an early supper," said Uncle Vernon. "To celebrate Dudley's 17th birthday. We'd ask you to join us, but we can't take any risks, now can we?" Harry though back to the last time that the Dursleys had taken him out to dinner with them. It was to "celebrate" Harry coming home after 5th year, although it had really been a meeting trying to convince Harry to find somewhere else to live. Harry had just happened to get very upset, for having the possibility of being able to leave dangled right in front of him, when he knew that he could not, not after what Dumbledore had told him. Needless to say, all of the Dursleys food ended up being small and random reptiles, and Dudley had needed another low profile surgery.

"Alright," Harry said. "Would you mind leaving me out a little something to eat?"

"Petunia has that all taken care of," Vernon said quickly. "There are a few things down on the dining room table. I've checked the cupboards and the fridge, and if you so much as MOVE anything else, I'll know...and you won't be too happy about that." Harry knew his Uncle well enough to know that he spoke no lie, and to know that he would be better off keeping his mouth shut and obeying these orders. Besides, he would only have to continue this mal-nutrition for one more week, and then he'd be back at Hogwarts, with all their many splendid feasts.

"Yes, sir," Harry said, giving a small salute for only his entertainment.

"I'm warning you, boy, don't mock me." Vernon said. "We'll be back by 6." Harry continued to watch the spot on his ceiling until he was sure they were gone. It was time to contact some of his friends, before he went crazy from loneliness.