Draco Malfoy walked through the doors to Hogwarts still in the same haze of sadistic joy. His fellow Slytherins were starting to get a little bit worried, not for him, but for themselves. If he was this happy someone had either already been hurt or someone was about to be tortured until they had a mental breakdown. Everyone couldn't help but wonder if they were the victim he had in mind, or if they'd, perhaps, already been victimized and just didn't realize it yet.

Like every year, they were all herded into the great hall for the beginning of the year feast.

Draco paid just enough attention to the sorting ceremony to notice that both Elizabeth and Conrad, the annoying first years from the train, had been sorted into Slytherin. No big surprise.

Draco managed to tune out all the clapping and whooping, instead daydreaming about all the horrible things he'd do to Hermione Granger. He was going to make her life into absolute hell, like she deserved. She was always such a stupid, stuck up, beaver toothed, curly haired, little mudblood. This was finally his opportunity to teach her a lesson. He'd been waiting to for a very, very long time.

Tuning out the opening speeches and beginning of school whatnot he focused on his victim from across the room following her every movement with his peircing grey eyes.

She looked pale and tiny. He didn't miss the slight shaking and the way her hands trembled. She scooted away from Weasley quickly, choosing to sit abnormally close to Luna Lovegood. Weasley gazed steadily at her, well concealed mallice shining in the depths of his blue-green eyes. Granger stared back at him with her big brown ones that were open wide and glistening with unshed tears.

She leaned even closer to Luna. All the people around her were lost in animated conversation, including Weasley, despite his under the radar aggrivation. Luna didn't seem to care at all about Granger's unusually close vacinity, in fact, she seemed to take no notice of it at all.

Draco silently observed as Weasley sent a scathing look in her direction. She looked like she was about to have a mental breakdown. Her eyes were wide and petrified with absolute fear, like a deer caught in the headlights. Draco noticed her lips move every so often, forming words. He imagined that he wasn't the only one noticing her change in demeanor, and her friends were probably trying to get her to tell them what was wrong. He knew she would just give a lame excuse.

When her lips stopped moving, Weasley glared at her, and Granger gulped silently and began to eat her food with shaky hands and a nervous expression.

Draco watched apathetically from across the room. Granger seemed to notice him watching, as she glanced up from the corner of her eye and her already fearful expression deepened. He just smirked back at her and winked wordlessly.

Weasley saw the exchange and his freckled cheeks flushed with rage. It wasn't a change most people would notice, not even the people surrounding him, unless they were actively watching with the intensity Draco was. Immediately, Weasley pulled himself up from the table, dragging Hermione along with him by her wrist. To an outside party it would look like a simple boyfriend and girlfriend holding hands, but Draco knew better. He was in on their dirty little secret. Granger looked back at Draco helplessly as she silently allowed Weasley to carry her off to Merlin knew where to do Merlin knows what.

Draco wondered in the back of his mind what she had done to set him off. Perhaps, nothing at all. He'd spent his entire life around deatheaters. He'd seen quite a few women beaten over the years, and knew that some guys didn't even need a trigger. Some guys were just ticking time bombs that would go off at almost anything, and beat the hell out of their kids, their pets, their wives... anyone really.

It wasn't like Draco really cared what Granger had done wrong, or if she had done anything wrong at all. It was none of his concern, and he didn't have any issue with it. It was Hermione Granger, for crying out loud. She was his worst enemy. Arch-rival. Nemesis. She was number one on his hit list.

He didn't give a damn what happened to her.

"What the bloody hell are you doing with Malfoy?" Ron roared as soon as they were out of the room.

He pushed Hermione up against the nearest wall and blind fury pulsed behind his emerald eyes, as he made no attempt to conceal it now that he didn't have an audience to worry about. Hermione made herself very small, shuddering into the wall with a whimper.

"Answer me when I talk to you! What's up with you and Malfoy?" He shouted as he kicked her roughly in the shin. She nearly collapsed to her knees as it gave out from under her, catching herself just in time.

"N-nothing." She stammered.

"Lying bitch! I saw the way he winked at you!" He slapped her once across the face. Tears leaked out of her eyes.

"I-I'm S-sorry." She apologized as she chocked on her pain and fear.

"Maybe, I need to remind you who you belong to. Maybe you forgot over the summer."

"N-No!" She begged.

"Yes. Get on your knees, bitch." He glowered at her menacingly.

"Please, Ron!" She cried out.

In response he delivered a quick back hand, grabbing her shoulders and forcing her in between his legs.

Merlin, not again!

She thought as she sobbed but obeyed his every order. It would only be worse for her if she didn't. Resistance was futile.

This wasn't the man she'd fallen in love with. This was a monster. Somewhere between here and there he'd lost himself, and turned into this. It wasn't a gradual transformation. One day he just came to her pissed off in an empty room and started yelling at her and hitting her, and all kinds of things.

She'd changed too. She'd given up the fight. She was no longer brave, rebellious, or noble. Now, she was just trying to survive.

He didn't let her come back up until they started hearing people leaving the great hall. He didn't say a word, just walking away like nothing had happened. Hermione couldn't stop crying.

She didn't want to let anyone see her like this. She ran away in any direction she could. She didn't care, just as long as it was far away from anyone who might see her weakness and shame.