"Don't scream, or I'll avada kadavra you faster than you can say chosen one, Granger." He smirked, tears still visible in his eyes. She began tearing up and with her eyes shut tighter than possible, and began to sob. She rocked back and forth in her place on Draco's bed and let out every piece of emotion she had in her. Draco rolled his eyes and let out an obvious sigh. He owed her an explanation, muggleborn or pureblood, she had the right to know what was happening.
"Granger, please restrain yourself from leaking on my bed for a minute," Spat Draco. Hermione sniffled twice and sat in silence.
"Voldemort forced me to keep you locked away in here for the summer months, or if the battle is over sooner. I'm to torture you until Scarhead keels over." Draco smirked, but everything inside of him screamed, "Draco, this is wrong. Pureblood or not, we're all magical beings. Hermione is a good witch." This thought caused him to feel sick again, and he cleared his throat to break the silence between him & the awestruck Granger. He sat there with her mouth halfway open and her eyes gleamed with a layer of tears. Draco wanted more than anything to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her reddining ear and pull her into a warm and loving embrace, for him to tell her it was all right and to hush her cries. He wanted that, but why? He was honestly an emotional reck, but he should show some sign of sympathy, even if he hated her. He flicked his wand up and down, releasing her ropes. Not a second passed before she promptly slapped him straigh across the face. He sat there, clutching his cheek and looking at her with a complete look of shock. She glared at him through her tears.
"Well that was irrational!" Draco barked, wishing he hadn't, immediatly afterwards. He wretched his hand back to strike the brunette once again, but she clasped a firm grip around his wrist, sending warm and cool waves up his spine. Draco ripped his arm away from the Gryffindor princess and scowled at her heavily.
"It is my duty to make sure you are in absolute pain, you filthy mudblood." Hissed Draco. This all made him flustered, he knew this wasn't right. He hated what he was doing, and it was clear in his foggy grey eyes. He cleared his throat and refreshed the Drak Lord's words in his mind. He ran his hand through his hair and picked up his wand, deep in thought. Hermione sat there quietly sobbing to herself, too frightened to move. Even the brightest witch couldn't overcome this feeling. Draco began quivering quite hard, nott knowing his next move.
"Get off my bed, Granger," Draco said so quietly that if his voice lowered it would become a whisper. Hermione barely heard him, but she practically fell on her face as the leapt off the satin oasis onto the cold cherry oak floor and into a cobweb infested corner.
"What the hell am I going to do?" He cursed, nervously rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. He glanced over at Hermione, her chest booming up and down with each harsh deep breath. He didn't want her to be afraid of him, but wasn't that why she was sittig in the vorner of his room at this exact moment? He was so utterly confused. He muttered a spell to himself and waved his wand shakily in front of the frightened form as a light peach colored light flowed out of the wooden tip and formed another gang of ropes that bound their way around her wrists and ankles. She whimpered once, but was silenced once a tattered piece of fabric wrapped tightly around her mouth. Draco muttered a few charms around the barrier of his room, silencing her from the world outside his room. He sighed and glared at the squeamish girl, moments before she slumped over in defeat. Draco swallowed hard and ran out, slamming the door behind him. He was to go and speak with the master of torture himself, Lord Voldemort.