The time was two o'clock when Hermione and Draco arrived back at the Malfoy Manor, and both were very hungry, though neither had the stomach to eat at this point. Hermione couldn't help feeling a bit guilty for Draco's depression. If it wasn't for her begging for his help, perhaps little Scorpius would be home by now playing with that potions set Draco told him he would get. Rowina probably would be ordering a house elf around to fetch her something to drink, and Malfoy… well, she wasn't exactly sure what he would be doing. Masturbating? It could be a possibility.

"Malfoy?" She asked timidly.

"Not in the mood, Granger," He replied hotly, though his face was calm. He sat his robes on a coat hanger that was bolted to the hallway wall, then walked behind Hermione and placed his hands on her shoulders. Hermione froze, unsure of his intentions until he pulled her robes off behind her. "Relax." He rolled his eyes, sitting her robes on a hanger next to his. "You act like I'm going to rape you or something." A smirk played across his lips. She frowned. "Too soon?"

"Prat." She stalked past him to keep from slapping him.

"When did you get that tattoo?" He grinned, causing her to stop in her tracks. His voice was sing-song as he continued, "I noticed when you were half-naked. I would have never pegged you for an inked woman."

"I really don't think that's any of your business," She narrowed her eyes.

"As your 'savior', I think I have a right to know. –What exactly was that? Some kind of bird?"

"It's a butterfly." She replied, "A swallow-tail butterfly."

"Sort of slutty. Most slutty girls have those, don't they?"

"How dare you?" She seethed. "If you must know, it represents the first child that I lost through a miscarriage!" She stormed back up to him, face mere inches away from him as she screamed, "And I lost it because I was fighting off an ex-Death Eater –much like you!"

"Why the Hell were you fighting off a Death Eater?" Asked Malfoy, soft.

"I used to work as an Auror with Harry and Ron!" There were tears in her big brown eyes. "I don't know why I'm even telling you this! You think you can just say whatever you want to get a rise out of me, but I swear Malfoy, one of these days I'm going to love watching you burn in Hell!"

"Oh, will you be there too? –I'll save you a seat at orientation."

"Oh!" She raised her hand to slap him, but stopped herself half way. Something inside of her just couldn't go through it. What did it solve? "I hate you! I hate you sooooo bad!" Her hands shook on either side of his face.

"I'm flattered you'd even care enough to hate me," Said Malfoy, "Frankly, I'd worry more if you didn't give a shit."

"Your eloquence really becomes you." Hermione felt a tear fall down her cheek. Defeated, humiliated, and in a pissy mood, she turned on a dime and flew up the nearest staircase to find the closest bathroom. Her whole body shook. God, what kind of person would give birth to someone like that? Course, what kind of woman would marry a man like that to become pregnant to someone like that to give birth to another person just like that? But, Hermione thought, no one could blame Narcissa Malfoy. She potentially wasn't that evil.

Course, neither was Malfoy. Just a big, stupid, ugly jerk!

There, she breathed, giving up on finding the bathroom. She felt better.

But then she thought of the exact reason why she was fighting with Malfoy –why she had blown up on him, and the tears came again. She fell to the floor in a feeble position, utterly overcome. She hadn't thought about losing her child in years. Quietly, she muffled her cries into her knees as she held them up to her chest. It seemed like eternity before she was driven back into reality by the sound of footsteps. She tried to pull herself together, but the tears persisted. Unexpectedly, someone took a seat next to her and placed a gentle touch on her back, rubbing up and down her spine. Her breath quivered. Her lips trembled. Slowly, she pulled her head up to look Malfoy in the eye.

There was a pause, and then he said, "Look… I…" He struggled. "I was out of line."

"Way out of line."

"Excuse me, I'm trying to apologize –don't make it any worse. As I was saying, I was out of line. And… I am sorry you lost your child. That must have been hard on you. And you don't need me giving you more shit about it." There was something in his eyes… something… "So… I'm sorry."

"T-Thank you." She said, amazed.

"And… since you told me something very private about your life, I'll tell you something about mine." He looked away, off at something that didn't exist. "Rowina and I are separated. I somewhat lied to you about how happy our marriage was."

"Why are you telling me this?" Hermione asked. "And why would you lie?"

"Because –I didn't want you to know how shitty my life was. I'm a Malfoy. Got a reputation to look after." He said as-a-matter-of-factly. "And I'm telling you this because I thought it would make you feel better. Besides… I needed to tell someone. I'm tired of keeping appearances." He ran his hand through his blond locks. "Rowina said that was the top reason why she hated me. She said I was never myself. All I ever was 'was the product of my father's wishes'. Heh. I suppose she might have been right." Hermione had never seen this side of Malfoy. It made her slightly nervous. He was so… honest.

"How long have you been separated?" She asked to be polite.

"Almost a year. She still lives here –in another wing of the mansion." He nudged to the East, behind them. "We stay together for Scorpius –and because it would look bad on both of our families."

"But she wants to keep up appearances?" Hermione said, now put off by this news. "After nagging you to stop?"

"Yeah, it's fucked up." He agreed. There were a few minutes of pause. "Well, feel better?"

"Surprisingly," She smiled, "I do."

"Good. Now I can go back to making your life miserable." He smirked. She punched his shoulder. He intertwined his fingers with hers.

"Wh-What are you doing?" She gasped, pulling her hand away. Her cheeks flushed red.

"What?" He asked nonchalantly.

"You… didn't you just… maybe I'm imagining things…"

"Can I ask you a question?" Malfoy asked out of the blue.

"Um… sure." Hermione said, still wondering if she had imagined the brush of contact.

"What do you think of me?" He looked at her. "You know. I want someone else's opinion besides my wife."

"About the same way I did back when we were in Hogwarts." Hermione answered honestly. "Pratty, arrogant, muggle hating, stubborn, rude-"

"Alright, I get it-"

"-proud, spoiled brat." Hermione smiled proudly. "But I never thought you were evil.- Even if you are an ex Death Eater. "

"Well… (cough) erm… thanks for that, Granger, my ego just deflated a few inches."

"Well, I don't think you're the product of your father. I think you just made some bad decisions in life… (sigh) No need to tell me what you think of me," Said Hermione.

"Oh, I wouldn't jump that far to assumptions." Malfoy grinned, now getting to turn the tables. "Definitely a proud, stubborn, know it all, bookworm-"

"Thank you, I get-"

"I'm not done. –On top of that, you were a frizzy haired freak who loved being up boy-wonder's arse, a whiner, big teeth, annoying, shitty dresser, the worst taste in men I've ever heard of-"

"Alright-"

"And the prettiest eyes I've ever seen in my life." He finished up. Her cheeks were tinted pink again.

"I'm sorry… I think I heard you wrong. I thought you said I have pretty eyes."

"I didn't." He said proudly.

"Oh."

"I said you have the prettiest eyes I've ever seen." He brushed an imaginary speck of dirt off of his shoe. "I'd have recognized those eyes if you had straightened and dyed your hair, put on twenty pounds of breast and called yourself Candy. Your eyes… stunning." His eyes met hers. "Like chocolate."

Hermione felt her stomach flip into her chest. Her heart raced. His eyes smoldered with an emotion she couldn't quite place. Like silver embers, they burned with passion. More passion than she had ever seen in Ron. Like the way Harry looked at Ginny. Her face radiated heat, and she was sure that there was not a speck of her face that the blood had not turned it red. Oh Lord, what was she doing? No, no, no! Why was she thinking those racy thoughts that were only meant for the bedroom with an intimate lover? She could feel her heartbeat in her stomach.

Nervously, she fidgeted with the top of her shirt around the collar. "Malfoy?"

"Hmm?" He answered, leaning slowly in. His lips reached the edge of her neck, and his breath could be felt on her skin. Oh God. Why did he have to smell of mint toothpaste? Toothpaste and parchment… now, if he smelled like fresh cut grass, Hermione knew that she would have lost it right then. She felt a stirring in her lower abdomen. "Yes, Granger?"

"N-Nothing." She answered, as his lips grazed just behind her jaw. Instantly, she clenched her teeth together. She sighed. Oh yes… oh, no, no, no! "Wait. What are you doing?" She pushed him away.

"What were you doing?" He exhaled a laugh. His eyebrows knitted in a smug look.

"What do you mean what was I doing?" Hermione was insulted.

"Granger, look at your hand."

Her eyes followed his down his chest to the raging hard on in his pants, where her hand rested atop. The feeling of chagrin washed over Hermione, and she pulled her hand away in a blurred movement. She would have slapped herself if she hadn't known it would have looked ridiculous. Malfoy began to chuckle with the biggest grin on his face.

"I'm so sorry." She muttered.

"I'm not." The laughter subdued. "I haven't had a woman touch me in a long time." He grabbed her hand and pressed it to his pants again. "Please, continue."

"I'm married!" Hermione exclaimed, trying to pry her hand away. He had a firm grip, however.

"The hand stays." His temperament changed –it was serious. Severe. Hermione sighed, trounced. Malfoy, aware he had won, flashed his pearly white teeth in a wide smile, much like a child. "Good Granger." He took his free hand and tucked a few locks of hair behind her ear. "Beautiful."

"Okay!" She used all of her strength to pull herself up and away from him –his hand still held hers, though it was no longer on any intimate parts. "I think someone spiked your Pumpkin Juice earlier this morning. I should… go find you a remedy or something." She freed herself from his grasp.

"Granger…"

"No time! We really need to sober you up…" She walked backwards, as to not turn her back on him. Who knows what he'd do in this condition? "After all, we have to leave soon…"

"Granger, you really should-"

"No, no. Don't get up. I can do this myself-" She turned to take off, but –SMACK- her head thwacked against the wall. "Ouch! Fu—uh—fudge!" She closed her eyes. Her forehead throbbed. "Oww…"

"Your choice of curse words amaze me." A voice said, and Hermione begged that he was not in front of her. She opened her eyes –damn it! "Oh, come on. Let's take a look." She backed into the wall. "Come on, now, stop being a damn pansy. Honestly, you're so stubborn." He took his hand and pried hers away to look. "Oh my God."

"What?" She gasped. "Is it bleeding?"

"Oh. Never mind. That's just your face." He smirked, causing her eyes to narrow. Then, slowly, he placed both his hands on her cheeks, eyes like an ice storm. "I'm going to kiss you now. So shut up and try to enjoy it." Then he leaned in and placed his lips firmly on hers.

"Harry went where?"

"To Mr. Zabini's current address, Mr. Weasley. I told him I would inform you."

"Oh. Al-Alright. Thank you, Mrs. Ryder."

"Mr. Weasley. You may call me Bemilda."

"Yeah. Sure. I'll start doing that the day you start calling me Ron."

Ron retreated into his small, cramped office for the fifteen time today. Desperately, he had paced back and forth, desperate for any news that Hermione and Rose might be all right. Now, with no news, he took a seat at his desk and flopped his head on the top of it. "Come on, Ron. Think. Do I have any enemies?"

Just as he was about to answer himself with an 'I don't know', his own secretary- Gruby Moribal (a rather large woman with a pugish face)- stepped in, and said in her gruff voice, "Mr. Weasley. A man claiming to be Gregory Bottleman was just taken into custody fifteen minutes ago."

Ron's head shot up. "Gregory Bottleman? The Gregory Bottleman? I thought I threw him in Azkaban!"

"You did, sir." Gruby agreed.

"A double?" Ron frowned in frustration. "Polyjuice potion, you think?"

"I'm just a secretary, sir. Not an Auror."

"Bemilda's more help than you are." Ron somewhat snapped, and instantly regretted how harsh it came out. "Sorry."

"I'm going to lunch." Gruby rolled her eyes, pushing her tiny half-moon spectacles up her squished nose. "I'll be gone an hour."

"Yeah, yeah," Ron shrugged her off, grabbing his winter coat. "Where is Bottleman?"

"Waiting for you." The voice was not Gruby's. Ron looked up to see Bemilda standing in the doorway where Gruby once stood. "He's been asking to talk to only you, sir."

"Why? Where?"

"Room 56. This floor, sir. Harper and Reg brought him in. They keep trying to force veritiserum down his throat, but he struggles just enough. Keeps screaming out to talk to you and he'll cooperate."

"Is it the real Gregory Bottleman, d'you think?" Ron asked, following Bemilda down past the rows and rows of cubicles. He could feel the eyes of his co-workers boring into the back of his head –watching, waiting.

"That's something you're going to have to see for yourself." Bemilda replied, opening the door to room 56 and letting Ron step inside first. The hair's on Ron's neck stood up so fast you'd think a Dementor was in the room. Bottleman, who had been thrashing back and forth against his invisible binds, stopped to meet eyes with the red head now walking slowly towards him. Ron felt a lump in his throat. Anger spewed over.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Weasley!" Bottleman laughed, his rat like eyes shifting back and forth. "How's the wife?"

Ron fought back the urge to draw his wand. "How'd you get out of Azkaban?"

"Oh, is that all you want to talk about?" Bottleman rocked in his chair. "I figured you'd want to talk about Rose." Ron's ears burned. His hand twitched. No, don't draw the wand… don't Avada Kedevra his arse… "Got your attention, didn't I?"

"What do you know?" Ron felt his resolve waver. His body shook. His voice grew louder. "Did you take my little girl!?"

"No, no. Not me." Bottleman nudged towards the chair across the table. "Sit. I'll tell you all I know."

"Why would you?" Ron was skeptical.

"Because we want the same thing. The twat who has your wife is the same twat I want sent to prison for beating the shit out of me. I'm not the twat you're looking for, Weasley. But I'll tell you who. For a price."

Ron felt the internal struggle with himself. Never in his life did he think he would want any help from the one person who he detested the most. This prick should be sent back into Azkaban, high security. But… if he knew any information about Hermione…

"Talk." Ron took a seat, angered. "We'll talk about your price later. Who's the sorry sod who has my wife?"

"Malfoy…"

"That's it. Say my name."

His fingers raked across her back, nails digging in to her soft, supple skin. She gave another soft moan. "You like that, Granger? Hmm? Does that get you off?" Chest pressed against chest. Her legs wrapped around his waist. Both shirtless in his bedroom, on top of his king sized bed. Both hungry for more than just food. Her head fit perfectly in the crook of his neck. "Answer me, Granger." He leaned back so that he could press his lips against hers. A rough kiss; tongue clashed against tongue. "Does that get you off?" He dipped his head and took a breast in his mouth at the same time as his fingers dug into her back again.

"Go-ohd…"

"Does it?"

"Yes! Oh, yes…"

"Say my name again. Say it. Who's your daddy, Granger?"

"Malfoy?" Harry shouted into his cell phone. "Are you sure, Bemilda?"

"That's what Bottleman says. Mr. Weasley was going to apparate to the Malfoy Manor, but there's been a restriction set on the place –the only ones that can actually apparate inside the Manor are Mr. Malfoy and his family. He's kind of upset."

"Can you put him on the phone?" Harry asked.

"Sure." There was a pause, and then a deep voice answered, "Harry."

"Ron. I'll be back up at the Ministry in a minute. Zabini's not here. We'll drive up there ourselves. You alright?"

"I'm going to kill that Death Eater prat."

"You're alright. I'll be apparating near the Ministry as soon as I hang up. Meet me at my car. Can you put Bemilda back on? –Bemilda? Put a warrant out for Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy. I'm going to need every available Auror to follow Ron to my car so we can make a proper arrest. We're going to take this bastard down fast."

"Yeah, Granger. Come for me. That's a good girl…" He whispered into her ear, seductive. "You want to come again?"

"Mmh…" Hermione gasped for breath. Her heartbeat was in her throat. A bead of sweat fell down the side of her face. He bounced her up and down, harder and faster. "Fu-uck…"

"Ooh, I love it when you swear… yeah, you're coming again. I'll make sure of that. –Merlin, you're so tight…"

"Malfoy." She blushed. "You know, I never thought-"

"Shhh…" His eyes were violent. "You're much sexier when you're not talking."

Hermione stopped mid-move. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me." He moved his head closer. "Now come here and give Daddy a kiss…"

"Uhh." She put her hand in front of his face to block him. "Forget it." She moved, rolling over on the opposite side of the bed. "Prat."

"Hey, we're not through here." He rolled to meet her, and grabbed her around the waist, so that her back was against his chest. Then he kissed up and down her neck. "I haven't satisfied you fully yet."

"And I don't think you can." Hermione shifted to wriggle from his grasp, but he kept the firmest grip yet. "Let me go. –And get your… thing off of me."

"You weren't complaining when that 'thing' was inside of you." He nibbled her earlobe; she brushed him off. "What's your problem?"

"If you don't know, I'm not going to tell you." She elbowed him in the rib cage and broke free.

"Granger-"

"Oh my God, Malfoy? What did we just do? How can I –how could I have done that to- oh, Ron! Oh my God, how am I ever going to face him? This is your fault! If you hadn't-"

"Been so sexy? Cunning? Drop dead handsome?"

"I wish you'd drop dead."

"Ooh, harsh. What's got your unicorns in a bunch?"

"Well lets see. Could it possibly be the part where you're just an arrogant, selfish prat? Or the fact that you seduced me into… having sex with you? Or possibly the fact that while having sex, you insult me!"

Malfoy acted as if he pondered it. "No, I don't think any of those. It could be the broom up your arse, though."

"Oh, really? I've got the broom up my arse?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah! Tell me, when was the last time you ever let loose and had some fun? I mean some real fun?"

"When?"

"Yeah!"

Hermione stopped dead in her tracks.

"What, Granger? No answer?" Silence. Malfoy sat up, unconcerned with his still raging erection. "If you want someone to blame, blame yourself. You could have told me no at any time –and I would have stopped. Half of me was hoping you'd say no, just so this wouldn't happen! But you know what? You didn't tell me no. In fact, you literally begged for this to happen!"

"Oh really?"

"Yes. You can't tell me that you didn't feel something back there in that alley, when I was fixing your outfit. You gave me a look."

"Oh, I suppose if anyone gives you a look you automatically think that they want you?"

"No." He rolled her over to face him. "Just you."

"I'm sure that line works great on the whores you cheat on your wife with."

"Hey!" Malfoy yelled louder than he must have intended, because he lowered his voice when he said, "My wife cheated on me first."

"Oh, so that gives you the right to cheat on her!?"

"Yes. Yes it does."

"So now I suppose Ron has the right to cheat on me?"

"Every right! Like you two will actually work. If you cheat, your heart really just isn't into it. Trust me. I would know." When she didn't answer, his attitude shifted. "Now I've got to get rid of this." He nudged to his throbbing erection.

"You still have that?"

"What? I always get a hard cock when I'm around y-" He shut his mouth tight. Hermione was sure there would have been pink tint to his cheeks if his blood weren't occupied in other places. "Care to put that mouth to good use?" He smirked.

"Pig." Hermione rolled off of the bed, taking the top sheet with her to wrap herself in. "Fix it yourself."

"The tattoo- It's pretty up close."

"I said fix it your-" She froze mid sentence. "Erm… thank you."

"You're not half bad up close, either."

"Oh, here we go." She rolled her eyes.

"No, I'm serious." He extended his hand for her to touch. She did so unwillingly. Down on the bed she sat down next to him. He managed to cover himself up a little, to make it known he was serious in what he was saying. "I may hate every fiber of what you stand for, but I can't deny I'm attracted to you. I was serious when I said you have beautiful eyes." His silver-bluer eyes met her brown ones. "And you have a fantastic body." His fingers intertwined with hers. This time she did not pull away. "Has anyone ever told you that?"

"If this is one of your lines-"

"I have to have a line, now?" He seemed put off by this.

"I've heard things like that said to my friends, and they were lines."

"How do you know? –Every time a guy says something 'nice' he has to be lying. Can't women just accept the fact we think you're beautiful?"

"You don't think I'm beautiful."

"Because you know exactly what I'm thinking?"

"…no…"

"You're beautiful, Granger. Don't let anyone else tell you otherwise. –Even if you are the most annoying woman on the face of the earth." He gave a large smirk. "And if it makes you feel any better, I'll even go with a story that says I forced you into sex."

"No." Hermione shook her head. "I've got to face my demons on my own."

"Alright. It was a great offer, though. Still out there, in case you change your mind. Because sometimes the best things in life should be left unsaid." He squeezed her hand, and Hermione felt that there was something else Malfoy wanted to say, but left up for interpretation. Something about feelings. Something about fondness.

Merry Christmas and happy holidays everyone! I was going to update on x-mas, but I wanted to fix a few things... oh, btw, I'm engaged! My bf purposed to me on Christmas! Thank you to all that review. You are awesome! Much love!

Please Read and Review
Amy
AKA
RootbeerFloat