For she had seen that there was no love in his heart.

Hermione woke to a thin strip of light, shimmering in through the small barred window in the far right corner of the dungeon. She was still there. In Malfoy Manor. It hadn't been a dream.

Crap.

But Collingsworth knew where she had gone. Surely, the Ministry would send someone after her. Not that Hermione placed a lot of trust in the Ministry's good nature. She'd learned that lesson the hard way during the war. Even if they didn't come for her, the people in the town also knew where she was. But they had their superstitions about this place. Why would they risk their own lives for a passing-through girl they never knew.

Hermione sat up and leaned against the frigid stone, the dress she had borrowed littered with bits of dirt and grime from the dungeon. Her head fell to her knees. She didn't care about the Fluxon Changer or her job at the Ministry. She just wished she had never come.

Her hands ran across the icy stone floor, feeling the combination of smoothness and roughness. Was this really the last place she wanted to see? No. Of course it wasn't. And she couldn't give up. Not yet.

Hermione was going to find a way out of there.

She scooted over to where the light would fall across her face. It was cold and she would take even the smallest bit of warmth. Time seemed to move by slowly and Hermione started to wonder if they were just going to leave her down there to die. It was Draco Malfoy after all.

"Hello," a timid voice said from behind the door. It had to be Starry.

"Yes?" answered Hermione. She could hear the jangling of keys. The door screeched open and little Starry pattered into the room, holding a tray of food.

"Morning, miss," said Starry as she sat the food in front of Hermione. It was orange juice, bacon and biscuits and jam. Not half bad for a prisoner.

"Thank you," said Hermione. Keeping on the good side of Starry was in her best interest. House elves were very powerful creatures.

"I'm, uh, sorry about all of this." Starry fidgeted uncomfortably. "I didn't mean-"

"It's not your fault. You can't control what he does."

"No. I suppose you're right," said Starry. "But, miss?"

"Yes?" Wait. The door. It was... open.

"He is not as bad you think he is."

Hermione slowly stood up hoping Starry wouldn't think anything of it. If she moved fast enough, could she get out before anyone noticed. "I've known him for a long time. And he's just as bad as I think he is." Hermione took a step toward the door. Starry stepped in front of her.

Dang it.

"You shouldn't try that."

"Try what?" Hermione said as sweetly as possible. She had pushed her luck by taking that step toward the door if she wanted another chance to escape she would have to take it easy.

Starry let out a soft sigh. "It'll make it harder for me to convince the master to give you a proper room."

"I don't want a proper room, I want to to go home."

"My apologies miss but leaving is not an option."

"It would be if you let me go."

Starry walked to the door, placed her hand on the stone then looked back at Hermione. "Don't speak of what you do not understand."

Hermione started when the door slammed shut. She spent the next few hours checking every corner of the dungeon for possible weaknesses and trying to loosen to the bars from the window. It was futile because even if she removed the bars she still couldn't fit through the small window.

The sun was starting to go down. Hermione had finally given in and eaten everything that Starry had brought her. She wasn't any further in her escape plan.

Once again, the door squealed open. "Starry?" asked Hermione.

"No. It's me." The voice was smooth. Hermione inhaled sharply. It was Draco. He stepped around the corner. He looked slightly different than the time she saw him before. He was wearing a plain grey three piece suit, the tips of his hair a light grey that matched the stone walls.

"What do you want?" spat Hermione, instinctively turning away from him. He was the last person she wanted to see.

"I have some dinner for you," he said, averting his eyes. What? Did he find her so repulsive he couldn't even look at her.

"Well, bring it in then."

"I give the orders around here."

"Oh, Malfoy, has it been so long that you've forgotten that I do not take orders. Especially from a Slytherin git like you."

"Fine. What's it to me if you don't eat?" Draco threw the tray of food. The platter clanged against the floor. The stew and bread splattered all over the floor. Hermione tensed, her eyes met Draco's. He was angry, but at least her was looking at her.

A flood anger surged through her. She stomped up to Draco. "What's wrong with you? You lock me in here and act like I'm the one causing problems."

"You came into my house! This is my house!" He grabbed Hermione abruptly. She tore away from his grip. "Get out," he said quietly.

"What?" asked Hermione. She couldn't believe what he had said.

"Get out! Get the bloody hell out!" he shouted. Hermione took one last look at him, the red raging in his irises and ran up the stairs, passing Starry as she went.

"Master. You can't!" yelled Starry. "She'll-"

"It's done," said Draco. That was the last thing Hermione heard before she was out of the staircase and running through the entrance hall toward the looming doors. They opened for her as she met them. She raced out onto the grounds.

Hermione could not believe Draco had just let her go. A swell of joy filled up in her. She was going home. Back to her job, back to normal. And she knew what she'd do the moment she got into town. She'd owl Ron and see if maybe they could try it again.

She fell down. It was like she'd run into a wall but there was nothing in front of her. Nothing but air. Her feet lifted from the ground. She tried to find her way back to earth, rediscover her connection with gravity but she just rose an inch at a time off the ground. Her throat ached. It was like strong hands were squeezing against her windpipe.

Oh Merlin.

She couldn't breathe. The world was starting to go fuzzy. Just as she'd been given hope, it had been ripped away. Hermione was still going to die in Malfoy Manor. At least this was better than dungeons. It was a sunny day, the wind was warm and gentle and the air smelled like grass.

Hermione heard a voice but the words were blurred, as was her vision. She heard them again and this time they were clear enough to make out.

"Take my hand," said the voice. Hermione forced herself to focus. It was Draco Malfoy on the back of bright white horse, his hand extended. It was hard to move, liike pushing through a nightmare, but Hermione stretched her arm out. Draco's cold hand grasped her.

But still the world was dimming. She'd been without oxygen for too long. Draco tugged and she collapsed into his arms, the invisible hands releasing from her neck. He held her tightly against his chest. She would have pulled away but the energy was gone and the world was slowly slipping into darkness.

Would the last thing she ever saw be cold grey eyes staring down at her?

Thanks for reading and reviewing. I'm having a lot of fun writing with this one and playing around with the Beauty and the Beast fairytale. Please let me know what you think!