Title: As the World Falls Down
Word Count: 946
Theme: Trance
Number of Theme's Completed: 13:100
Rating: M
Characters: Draco & Hermione
Disclaimer: I don't own it.

As The World Falls Down

Part one

"I ask for so little. Just fear me, love me, do as I say, and I will be your slave."

- Jareth (David Bowie) Labyrinth

It was a strange life. Similar to a never-ending fairytale. A very extraordinary, sad tale of a princess locked in a dream, her prince was nefarious and frightening, but she spent her days wishing and preparing for his visits.

Somehow, however, a part of her seemed to be awakening. Deep inside and it was confused.

She did not know who she was only her name. Hermione.

She did not know where she was; only that it was his manor.

She did not know who her prince was either. Only his name. Draco Malfoy, and she found it odd, but she knew he loved her.

Narrowing her eyes, she studied him across the elegant table. His handsome face was impassive as he listened to a dark-skinned fellow with almond-shaped eyes. He was somehow familiar, but she could not recall his name. She spent no time wondering, instead she admired Draco while he was distracted.

The fine angle of his jaw was set regally and beautifully led to a slightly square chin. His nose came down in a long, straight point that spoke of aristocratic genetics. His lovely mouth was thin and relaxed, giving the appearance of a simple pout. But his eyes were amazing and she felt most curious about them. A swirl of ashes and storms framed by long ebony lashes that hooded his thoughts. Her most favorite feature, but she did not understand why.

"Draco," his name slipped past her lips involuntarily and she bit the bottom in punishment. Shame rose in her cheeks heatedly and when he turned his attention to her, simultaneously arching a dark, refined brow, she realized that she had made a mistake.

Draco stiffened at the sound of his name. it was a charming, husky sound that settled over him softly, but he felt nearly angry because never once had she spoken aloud at tone of his dinner parties. After all, he told her not too. Yet the annoyance dispelled as his gaze fell on the pretty witch. Her curls fell about her shoulders in glittering ringlets, her face was flushed and glowing, but her eyes, although large with bewilderment, were a pale and melancholy topaz. They did not sparkle. Not a flicker of life in them anymore.

His heart clenched at the sight of her. "Yes?" He growled to shield his desire to comfort her. His company would not understand. He had a image to keep up. One of a cold-hearted and ruthless bastard.

Hermione blinked and held up her left hand. "Tell me again about our wedding day." The simple gold band on her finger flashed in the candlelight.

Instantly, he sucked in a choking breath as if he had been kicked in the stomach. The dining hall had grown quiet and all eyes were staring at him. Waiting. Judging. "Not now," Poppet. He then tilted his head back to Zabini, but not before he caught a glimpse of her chin trembling and her head was dropping with sorrow.

Hermione felt pain sweep into her chest at his curt dismissal. It was not fair. A simple request that he refused to acquiesce. Did he not care? She rose quietly and murmured an apology before quitting the hall. Once she was out of sight she ran to the one place she felt truly safe. Draco's grand library. There she threw herself to the floor near the fireplace, her heavy dress falling around her, and she began to cry for something she could not understand.

Later, after his guest had retired, Draco arrived in the Library, where he knew she would be although she never read any of them. He found her lying on her side, her skirts tangled around her form, and her cheeks glistening while she chewed on her thumb. Her eyes were searching the fire for answers. Ones he did not worry about her finding. "Hermione," he said tenderly as he settled on his haunches next to her, he reached out a hand and carefully extracted the curls from her shoulder.

She turned to him, eyes wide again, confused once more.

Before he could stop himself he grasped for her and gathered her tiny frame against his chest.

She gasped, her body went rigid, but she curled his collar in her fist, and buried her darling face in his shoulder. "I just wanted to remember how I came to love you. I'm sorry." She hiccupped.

"Ssh, now," and he lifted her easily to carry her to the bedroom.

Laying her softly on the bed, he pressed his mouth to hers and a spark of magic crackled in his gut. Then she opened to him, allowing him the liberty to explore her honeyed mouth with his tongue. Then carefully he let his deft fingers divest their clothing.

He wanted to be sweet to her, make her truly feel him. Slowly, to know how he adored her. He held her closer than ever before, and took his time to please her. Just willing her to feel the same about him. He wanted her to fall with him. Simply.

Hermione was spiraling downward delightfully, but she could not fathom the depths of it all. Everything around her was crashing and her body hummed and soared with surrender. Their coupling was edacious. An effulgence of emotion that rocked her into tears.

Then suddenly she was curled against him as he petted her to comfort, whispering words of endearment until she was nearly asleep. But right before she captured that last nod, he spoke once more.

Imperio...