A/n: Thanks to everyone who found, reviewed, favorited and added this story! It made my day :D Now like I said I'm not sure where this is going; it might remain entirely in fourth year, or become glimpses of their lives and "bruises" throughout the last few years of school and what happens to them after the war and what has become of them. I'm not sure which way it will go yet; any opinions? For now though at least this chapter and maybe the next will take place in fourth year; we'll see. Thanks to my beta loveinthemadness!

Warnings: Changes will have to be made to each book for this to work correctly. If something does not follow the book don't tell me in a review, I already know. This is the only warning regarding that.

You can check me out on facebook as well; look on my profile. Now on with the story :)

The Yule Ball was turning out to be a blast. Hermione could not recall the last time she had so much fun. So what if Ron and Harry were moping around? It was not her fault that they waited until the last minute to find dates! As for her, she was simply enjoying her night with Viktor on her arm, twirling her all around the floor.

The bruises on her hips had all but healed. That prick Malfoy hadn't done as much damage as he would like to think, and she knew he could tell whenever Viktor grabbed her tightly to lift her up. It didn't cause pain anymore, although the offending marks had remained on her skin for several days.

At length, she found herself having to sit down. They had been dancing for nearly an hour, only occasionally stopping to speak briefly with someone. At least he was avoiding most of the girls who kept fawning over him; else her night may not have been as enjoyable.

"I will go get us drinks," he said as she sat at a table. Viktor had been kind to her all night, and she nodded thankfully as he disappeared in the direction of the refreshments. She sighed happily. Tonight had been wonderful thus far.

A chair slid out in front of her, and glancing up she frowned as a Slytherin took a seat across from her. "He dances worse than I do."

"Sod off Malfoy. You will not ruin my night."

He chuckled, relaxing in his chair. She wondered where his date- Parkinson- had gone off to. She had just seen them parading around the dance floor a few minutes ago, far too close together to be decent. "She went off with Daphne to the lavatory, like all of you girls do."

She frowned. "Hardly. Only your type of girls seem to. Now will you disappear? I have better things to do than spend my night getting you to leave me alone."

The blonde chuckled again, leaning closer on his chair to her. How had she missed how close he was earlier? "Touché, Granger? I don't see you complaining about his technique, when all you could do was talk about mine."

"Viktor is a perfectly fine dancer and for your information he knows how to hold a woman without leaving her black and blue. You must be proud of that accomplishment."

Maybe if she had been in a less touché mood, she would've seen his lip twitch slightly, but instead she was too focused on getting him to leave her alone. She had seen the blonde speak with Viktor on more than one occasion, and could always soften any argument that might rise between them by bringing up Quidditch. She did not want to spend the rest of her night discussing a topic like that, when she could be dancing with the charming man instead.

"Yes, proud!" he snapped, leaning forwards to grab her knee under the tablecloth. Her eyes snapped up, meeting his, wondering just what he thought he was doing. "You should be careful Granger; I have already told you once that I can leave the bigger mark."

"You must be proud of yourself then; the marks on my hips were shaped just like your bloody hands. I was questioned by my roommates for a week."

He chuckled, his grip tightening, and she leaned forwards a bit to take her wand from the small bag she had opted to bring; if he didn't release she would make him. "I told you Granger, you should always aim to win."

"Why are you bothering me?"

"Why?" she asked when suddenly he released her knee and leaned back. She frowned, confused by his actions until she noticed Viktor sitting back down beside her once more.

"Hello Draco," the Bulgarian said, smiling towards the blonde, who gave him a tight nod in return. "I am sorry," he continued, looking at Hermione, "I had to talk to him." He pointed back in the direction of the table, where a sulking Ron was leaning against the wall. Poor, poor Ron.

She nodded. "That's fine," she replied, sipping her drink. Her eyes slid over to the blonde, whose expression had become unreadable as usual. She wondered if he planned to remain sitting there with them.

They continued talking for a bit, Viktor often turning to involve the blonde in their conversation. Hermione had forgotten that the visiting schools had become masters at ignoring house rivalries, and treated everyone as an equal. It was quite a sight to see.

Soon, Parkinson returned, clinging to the blonde until he finally got up and continued dancing with her- the girl sucking on his neck half the time. She wondered how people could stand themselves sometimes. It wasn't long however before she and Viktor were back on the floor as well.

They left a bit early that night since Viktor had to get up early and talk to his teams coach about his temporary relocation since he was missing practices. He walked her to the Gryffindor common room, stopping at the bottom of the staircase that led up to it.

"I had nice time tonight Hermione," he said, and she could only smile at his slightly fractured English; it was charming in a way. "Thank you for coming with me."

"Thank you for asking," she replied, smiling up at him. She had so much fun tonight, she hardly cared that it had taken four hours to prepare. She rarely got dressed up like this after all, so it was okay. And she wouldn't deny that the attention she received was fantastic. No one ever really looked at her like they did tonight, and she may not want that all the time but once in a while was great.

"Of course, I wanted to take you." His accent was thick, and in the aftermath of the tiring Ball she found it soothing. What she found terrifying was when he leaned down and promptly covered her lips with his- This was something she had never anticipated. They had only spoken a few times, and only gone out just this once.

That didn't mean that she was a prude however. The kiss was soft and sweet, and she enjoyed it, even if it was unexpected. Of course, nothing remains the same for long, and she quickly found that he wanted to force the kiss deeper. She turned her head to the side, and he kissed the skin of her cheek and ear.

"Viktor- stop," she said, pushing him lightly away. Her lips hurt from the few scarce moments he really began applying pressure to her, and she could only imagine that they were swollen. At her words, he pulled back.

"You don't like?"

"This isn't why I came with you tonight," she said, backing up and placing her hands on her hips. "You're nice, but I barely know you. If you were looking for someone to shag at the end of the night you should've gone with Pansy Parkinson- she is always up for something, and no, it's not a good thing."

He was giving her an odd look. "The girl Draco Malfoy went with?"

"Yes. Did you see her dancing? That should answer enough right there."

The Bulgarian tilted his head. "Would you rather I went with her, so you could go with Malfoy?"

She made a face. "Hardly. But this isn't why I came with you, and I wish you had realized that."

He nodded tightly. "I see. Goodnight then Hermione." She listened to him slaughter her name once again, but didn't comment. She said goodnight as well, and watched as he dejectedly walked past her back down the stairs. He was obviously hoping for more, but that was something she would not give.

Turning, she made her way up the remaining stairs, bumping her knee on the banister. It hurt more than it should, and she just knew Malfoy had left another purple mark. This night had soured quickly it seemed. Oh well, at least no one had been around to comment.

Of course, she hadn't noticed the lurking eyes that had watched the entire exchange.

Malfoy's mark was not hideously obvious this time like before, and she thankfully wasn't questioned multiple times the next morning when she got dressed. It appeared that she had merely bumped her knee this time, which was far better than hand shaped bruises.

Entering her first class, she noted that the blonde in question was sporting a black eye of his own. Curious, she looked around the room to see if anyone seemed to know what had happened. After asking the girl that sat behind her, it appeared that no one had an explanation yet, even the Slytherins.

Throughout class she was unable to shake the stupid image of him with that black eye. It had not been there last night when he bothered her, so it happened sometime after the Ball if people didn't have anything to report. But what went on?

Halfway through the period, she found an answer. Viktor- who was also in their class temporarily- walked in, a few nice bruises littering his skin. She cringed. Merlin, they had to of gotten into a fight, by why? There was no time to ask, and she like everyone else present sat silently, thinking up their own conclusions.

She felt eyes on her back all through class, but couldn't place why. As she was leaving she turned and met their owner; Malfoy had been the one watching her, and that made her nervous.

Why did he have such an angry look on his face?

"Satisfied?" he asked her later, when they were passing one another in the hallway. Hermione whipped around at the voice, having thought she was alone. This was a free period of hers, and she did not expect to run into anyone on the trip to the library.

"Excuse me?" she asked, placing her hands on her hips. Malfoy was leaning against the wall staring at her, his eyes seeming to see right through her. Or maybe it only seemed that way because of his bruised eye.

At her comment, he shoved away from the stone. Walking carefully, he stopped just in front of her, his eyes glaring down at her. "You heard me. Are you satisfied now?"

"I don't know what you are talking about," she huffed, glaring at him. "May I pass now?"

He reached out then, gripping her arm and forcing her closer. "Don't play stupid, Granger. I know you are the reason it happened."

"Well maybe I can verify this if you told me what you are going on about," she huffed again, irritated. In response, he pointed to his eye.

"You put that idea in his head," he hissed.

"Who?" she wondered, eyebrows drawing together. Thankful that she had nothing in her arms, she reached up and shoved him off of her arm.

"Viktor Krum!" he spat, and realization slowly dawned on her. She had mentioned Pansy Parkinson out of anger, but that was obviously not what Krum had taken it as. Considering she had gone with Malfoy, Krum must've found them and probably attempted the same thing he did with her, only this time there was a third party.

"He found you? Oh, did he go after Pansy-"

He chuckled, reaching down to grab her chin. "No Mudblood, he did not, because he never got that far. I already knew he was coming before then."

She frowned. "How?"

Leaning in, he breathed on her face, "You should learn you use your bloody eyes more. Thanks to that idiot, I now have this marring my features." He pointed at the black eye, and she smiled.

"I think it makes you look better actually."

He gripped her shoulders, and her hand drifted to her wand. There was no way she was going to just let him openly hurt her without retaliating; that was just not right. "Careful Granger; you're in no position to laugh at me."

"I'm not," she asked, testing her boundaries. "I think I am actually. You stalked me last night, and now you are blaming me for the fight you got into?"

"Absolutely not!" he bit back, rolling his eyes. "That was his fault. You gave him the idea." He tightened his grip. "So be careful what you say Granger. You seem to bruise easily."

"I could say the same for you," she remarked, her hand around the wand.

"Oh Granger, don't get yourself tangled in this fight. We both know I am going to win in the long run." He dropped her shoulders, pulling out his wand to produce some water so he could wash them. She stared at him, sickened by how seriously he took her "dirty blood". As he shoved past her he wiped his hands on her robe.

"Have a good day Mudblood," he snapped continuing on his way. Her arms hurt, and if he left another mark she was going to have a fit. Pulling out her wand quickly, she whispered a spell. A satisfied look crossed her face as his thick head sprouted antennas.

"I'll have a better day than you," she remarked, but he didn't hear. "You can't always harm me Malfoy, no matter where you think you stand. Didn't anyone ever teach you some manners?"

A/n: Most updates won't be this quick but I wanted to give a ground basis, as well as hear what you readers think about which path this story should follow. I like hearing what you guys have to say since it gives me a different viewpoint :) Chapters may also increase in length.

So did you enjoy? Let me know! We are still talking about bruises and marks here :D