Malfoy examined his face in the mirror, a large, circler bruise had set around his left eye.

"Bitch," he hissed under his breath poking at his discolored flesh. He dared not flinch when he touched it, he was a man and wouldn't let a little thing like this weaken him. He would get his revenge. The filth mudblood, dared to touch the Malfoy prince. She automatically moved to the top of his list, Potty and Weasel could wait, for the time being. Besides if he was cleaver enough he could have revenge on the golden trio, all at once and thru her.

Her, his thoughts settled on the doe-eyed, mudblood. He hated her, almost more than anyone else, almost. He had meant her on their first train to Hogwarts, nearly three years ago. He remembered it like it was yesterday…

He had found a compartment with his friends since infancy. Crabb, Goyal, Pansy, and Blaise. They all sat laughing at the expense of the new golden child. The famous Harry Potter, he dared turn his orphaned nose up at a Malfoy when offered a hand in friendship, the git.

Then the door slid open and in the door way a small bushy brown haired girl stood her hands on either side of the door frame as she leaned her body in and scanned the room. "Has anyone see a toad? A boy named Neville lost one." She asked her voice was sweet yet authoritive. He felt a blush rising to his cheeks, she was so sure of her self as her eyes conveyed to each of them and rested on himself. He felt his heart race and his pulse quicken as she smiled innocently at him.

"No, now get out!" He hardly recognized his own voice as he yelled at her. Her large brown eyes turned from concern to detest. Then without another word she turned and gracefully exited the box not bothering to look back once. He felt his stomach drop, a sense of relief and an odd feeling of regret when she left. But non of his friends had notices, no they slapped his back and cheered him for his cheek.

"You are defiantly a Slytherin," Blaise, said slapping Draco on the back. Draco felt a sense of power, perhaps he would gain his father's love yet.

The sorting ceremony stared, He intensely watched Professor McGonagall as she called the first name. "Hermione Granger!" everyone looked around and then he saw her, the girl from the train. She walked with grace her head held high. He watched her pretty face, looking for nerves, she however was a picture of calm assertiveness, She perched on top off the stool and McGonagall placed the ruddy old hat on her bushy head.

Pansy giggled behind him " I was sure the hat wouldn't fit over the tangled mess she apparently calls hair." Malfoy shook his head clearing it of Pansy's stupid remark. Slytherin, he whispered to him self hoping that the Hermione girl's calm nerves earned her a place in the most noble of houses.

"Gryffindor," the hat yelled for all to hear. The celebrations from the Gryffindor table was so loud no one heard Draco curse.

The rest of the sorting was quick, placing Malfoy and all his friends in Slytherin, a harsh frown settled on his face when Potter and another Weasly was placed in Gryffindor taking their seats on either side of his Hermione Granger. Draco said her name over and over to him self determined not to forget it.

There had been a small amount of space in the beginning of their first year, when she was always alone, no one talked to her, she did not have friends as he did. He considered offering her a sort of friendship, one that would never be observed by any of his Slytherin peers. If she hadn't been a Gryffindor it may have been different, he was a Malfoy and couldn't take the chance of soiling his families name, not for the likes of her.

Then everything changed it wasn't soon before every student in the school knew exactly which students came from pureblood lines, half-blood lines, and which of the small few where muggle born, mudbloods.

Her name was among them.

He could hardly look at her.

Hermione Granger, indeed she had been playing the part of wizard.

What with her being a know-it-all, teachers pet; who would expect for it to all be a show of sorts to hide what she really was, unworthy. Hermione Granger was unworthy of his notice and so he was determined to hate her, ignore her very existence. A very hard and minuscule task it became, she was everywhere. Mocking him at every turn, raising her hand when any question was asked, not waiting to be called on before she blurted out the correct answer.

How was he going to prove himself if she out shined him, the filthy mud blood. Malfoy was careful to sneer at her as often as possible, he wanted to intimidate her, he wanted her to recognize his superior birth right, and most of all for her to know that he hated her. She however did not know how to be intimidated, most the time she simply ignored him. That just fed his unhealthy anger towards her.

Then the stupid mudblood, dared to test his patience further by befriending his enemies.

He hadn't considered her an enemy until she untied with Potter and Weasly, until that moment she had only been competition. He watched her often enough with the pair, smiling shyly at the poor weasel, or genuinely laughing at something Potter whispered in her ear. Draco doubted anything that could come out of Potter's mouth could be that funny. He leered at her, at them. He hated them all.

Then he was made Slytherin seeker, second year. He would prove is worth on a broom. Flint escorted the team to the field only to find the Gryffindor team already practicing. It wasn't beyond Malfoy to look, he knew she would be in the stands, she always came to Potter's practices. Draco scanned the field nonchalantly as he only half way listened to the Quidditch captains argue. He was careful to maintain a bored look when his eyes settled on the pair setting too close sharing a blanket. He couldn't contain the deep frown that settled on his brow, he pushed his way forward to show his new position and the new brooms his father bought for the team.

Her voice rang out clear as a bell, " At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way on, they got on pro talent." Her eyes bore into his, she hadn't spoke to him since the train, he wanted to smile at her, he wanted to trace the pad of his thumb along that know-it-all mouth, but most of all he wanted to pull her out of the red haired bastard's arms and murder Weasely for touching her.

He watched her closely as the weasel ran his hand up her arm and rested on her shoulder. He couldn't hold back, only she could get such a raw reaction from him, his palms became sweaty, his face red, he couldn't think of what to say to her, but everyone waited to hear his crude remark, "No one asked your opinion, you filthy little mud blood." He growled in his throat, a clear intake of breaths echoed from every Gryffindor, while the Slytherins snicker slyly behind their hands.

He watched the weasel step in front of her determined to defend her honor. "Eat slugs," Weasley screamed his wand pointed at Draco. There was no time to react, but luck was on Malfoy's side when the spell back fired and the red-headed git began puking up slugs. Draco watched her face, and saw the concern written across it. Would she look at him like that if the spell had hit him? Malfoy doubted it, and rightly so , he had just crossed the line from being an academic rival to being her enemy in every since.

The bathroom door creaked open and Malfoy was drawn back to the present. He took one last look in the mirror at his black eye then turned to see who had invaded his privacy. It was Pansy. Her hips swaying seductively towards him, pushing him against the sink and pressing her body into his. He gave her a sly grin knowing all too well what she was after.

A gasp got caught in her throat as she saw his black eye. "That bitch, I'll tear her apart." Pansy exclaimed.

Draco grabbed Pansy painfully by the arm. "No. I will have my revenge, this is my fight, and oh how I'm going to enjoy it." His voice was low sensual. Pansy shivered against him. "Is there anything I can do?" she asked, hopefully. He grinned wickedly letting her know exactly what he wanted. She did not hesitate unzipping his pants.

He watched Pansy's head bob up and down as she pleasured him, his mind drifting off to another. The mud blood had proved her self resourceful, this year he thought. Even though all her hard work was done in vain. He had actually out smarted the brilliant little bitch. The best witch of her age, ever, ha! She was a muggle, not a witch. She wasted all that time helping that oaf prepare for a trail that had been decided the moment the beast attacked him. Draco knew he had provoked the creature, but too see the looks on the trio's face at the execution had been worth it. Especially her reaction. She had lost it, hitting him. Draco had to admit, she had a mean right hook, but that didn't mean he was going to let her off easy. No, as long as she's tortured him, it was now her turn to be tortured, and he was just the man for the job. He let Pansy finish him off, the mudblood bitch's face, and name flashing across his brain as he came.

%%%%%%

Hermione walked back to the Gryffindor tower alone from the Great Hall. She had enough parting for one night, Harry and Ron stayed behind telling and retelling the cover story of their confrontation with Sirius Black to anyone who would listen. Her eyes grew heavy it had been a long year, yet she had made it. Double the work load, helping to save two innocent life's, she still had to finish packing,. It wasn't like her to procrastinate but her mind had been too stretched with more important thoughts. She no longer had the time turner and felt the sting of the lost luxury. She had to catch up on her preparations for home, and if she was lucky a bit of sleep.

She was on the fourth floor stairs when she heard the harsh voice attack her from behind, she didn't have enough time to react with a counter curse as her wand flew out of her hand and over the stair well. She was cursed a second time by a silencing spell, she turned to see her attacker but a hand shot out painfully gripping her hair pulling her head back and jabbing a wand into her throat.

"Squib, don't fight me." She reckoned the voice and her struggles became more frantic. Malfoy. He wanted revenge, for her hitting him, fear crept in her mind for whatever he had in store for her. He pulled her off the stair well and into an empty class room. He tossed her angry into the room and locked the door, obviously he didn't want them to be interrupted. He muttered a charm to sound proof the room before removing the hex from his prey.

Hermione felt the silent curse lift and at once began to scream. Malfoy laughed. "I thought you were suppose to be cleaver. I muffled the room." He pointed out.

"We all know how well your charms hold. If there is even a possibility you made a mistake help will becoming." She said, her eyes slanting hatefully at him.

Malfoy covered the space between them, pushing her against the wall pinning her in place. He sneered down at her trying not to notice the soft feminine smell of wildflowers drift from her person, or the angry, defiant way she maintained eye contact.

"How did you do it?" He asked watching her face in case she lied.

"Do what?" She asked, her breath was hot on his face. He had to maintain control.

"The fuck'n, beast. I know you and Potter where behind it. I want to know how." He demanded.

She smiled. " I don't have to tell you a thing, you prick." She said coldly, knowing that her indifference would piss him off more than her defiance.

"I will break you." He told her. "I know spells that your cleaver little head would never imagine doing. I'll torture you into submission."

"Do your worse, Malfoy, I don't expect more from you then the dark underbelly of a serpent." Her eyes bore in to him. He felt as if she were reading his thoughts. He became disgracefully aroused by the slag in his arms.

"You are nothing but a filthy muggle, bitch." He scowled. She bit her bottom lip. He couldn't help but wonder what her lip would taste like between his teeth.

She slapped him.

Malfoy's face turned even darker, brooding.

She raised her hand to smack him again, he caught her wrist and slammed both her arms painfully against the wall. He shifted his grip on her, taking both her small wrists in on of his large hands, pointing his wand back at her slender neck. He fought the urge to taste her creamy flawless skin. He did however let his eyes wonder up and down her small frame.

"Your not special, skin and bones, wild and tangled weeds for hair, too pale from spending hours on hours in a library learning things you have no right to know. Weasley and Potter's buck-tooth whore." He searched her face hoping to see tears forming in her chocolate eyes, she spat on him.

He moved his wand from her neck and wiped her saliva off him. She took the chance to knee him in the groin. He fell hard to the floor, she ran for the door.

She couldn't get the lock to unlatch she didn't have her wand. Malfoy grabbed another handful of hair throwing her to the floor. "You want to play dirty, Granger?" Malfoy felt himself getting harder, he was no longer in control the bitch had finally driven him over the edge. He would show her. Her who thinks she's better than a Malfoy. His revenge would be to take what they coveted. Her.

Malfoy didn't hear the door slam open or the words Potter used to knock him across the room he watched befuddled as Weasly scooped a limp Hermione in his arms and gently wrapped his cloak protectively around her, soothing her. The three turned to leave the room, Malfoy couldn't hold the words back, " Best be keeping a better eye on her, I would say." Malfoy snickered picking himself up off the floor.

They said nothing leaving Malfoy staring after them disappointed.

Malfoy had scared himself. He would of raped her if they hadn't stopped him; the realization came to him not moments after they left the room.

How could he of been so weak. How is it she alone could get such a reaction from him. He would stay away from her if it killed him, he decided, she was dangerous.

He reached up to itch his nose. The uncomfortable sensation spread across his face and down his neck. He couldn't help but scratch, " What the?" He asked himself. Then he remember, she had spit on him.

There was magic even in her saliva. He pondered for a moment what sensations she could create in the throws of passion. Anger, had been the apparent emotion behind the rash he had for nearly two months that summer.

~A/N: (incase anyone cared, Harry and Ron knew where to go to rescue her, or assumed she was in danger because of the Marauder map)