A/N: Just a quick one! You all are so amazing for following/favoriting/reviewing this story! It is you all who keep me going! And special thanks to my beta who is amaaaazing, A Rogue Without Her Remy

Happy Reading Loves!

Sight of a Seria:

Hermione could not believe what she was seeing. Draco Malfoy, her all-time arch nemesis was crying directly in front of her. And not only that, but he was crying for her. What the hell was happening? She had spent so much time with Ron, whom she assumed loved her, and yet in just the few moments of hearing Draco pour his heart out, he had shown more emotion than Ron ever had in the entire time they spent together. Here he was, supposed to be torturing her and felt bad for him.

Draco was staring into her eyes, all the way though to her soul. She had let him in and for the life of her, she couldn't understand why. All she could do was stare back as he stood before her, his heart breaking. What did he mean when he said he didn't want any of this? Does that mean that he's not the evil prat we all thought he was? Could we have been so utterly wrong about him?

It was almost as if Draco was frozen in place, silent tears streaming down his face. He gazed at her intensely, waiting, hoping, that she'd respond in kind.

Deep in her heart, what Hermione really wanted to do was to reach out and embrace him. Hold him to her and tell him it was going to be alright. Take him and comfort him. But then a flash of anger hit her like the Whomping Willow. Why the hell should she comfort him! Why would he deserve to be held after what he'd done to her! This was outrageous! I must seriously be going crazy. This is so, so bloody wrong!

So instead of listening to her heart, she looked him dead in the eye, and spat the first thing that came to mind.

"I hate you."

Draco immediately lightened his grasp on her, eyes slipped from hers, lowered his arms, and took a step back as if he'd been slapped across the face. In a way, she had done exactly that with her words.

He turned and started for the door, keeping his eyes averted. He took slow step after step towards his exit. Hermione felt each click of the no doubt well-made shoes echo through her whole body. It was as if the farther he walked away, the emptier her heart became. Because once he left, who knew how long it'd be before she'd get human interaction again.

After stepping through the doorway and turning around to lock it, he gave a quick flick of his wand and Hermione was suddenly clothed in a plain t-shirt and cotton pants. It was more than she ever expected, considering she was a prisoner. She didn't dare steal her eyes away from Draco to inspect her new attire. Instead she just stood there and watched the man wizard beforw her.

Taking a deep breath with his eyes closed, he finally spoke to her. But it was as quiet as a whisper and Hermione had to strain her ears to hear.

"I deserved that. I deserve nothing more than your hate. But I want you to understand something. If you never believe a word that I ever speak to you, just believe this one thing; I truly am so, so sorry. I mean that with all of my heart… Sleep well, Granger."

And as the last word rolled off his tongue, he turned to leave her. She watched him retreat up the stairs until his whole body was out of sight. She listened to the light tap of his steps as he ascended up and out of this hellhole of a dungeon. And once she heard the door he'd left through click shut, she finally let herself crumple to the ground where she lay and sobbed until her throat was raw and her eyes were dry.

She didn't know how long had passed, it was as if she'd been in a trance for days. But in reality, it had only been an hour or so since Draco left her. And once the sobbing ended, she finally allowed herself to feel the pain of that evening. It came in one heavy sheet after another, a terrible rainstorm that wouldn't let up.

She first thought about Harry and Ron. She knew the right thing for them to do, and what she should want them to do, would have been for them to finish the mission; find the Horcruxes and then come looking for her. But she selfishly hoped that instead, they'd put off the Horcrux hunt to get her back. She knew there was no way they'd find her here, as it was definitely protected by some bloody strong spells. It didn't hurt to have a small spot of hope. But the longer she lay there, the more she realized they would probably never find her, so it would be up to her to find her way out. She was determined. And a determined Hermione Granger was not someone you'd want to stand in the way of.

Then the events of just a few hours ago struck her and a wave of nausea hit with such force that she barely had a second to make it over to a corner of the cell where she then vomited repeatedly. She couldn't get Voldemort's sickeningly smug look out of her head. He looked so pleased to watch her be tortured. It was almost as if he was going to get off on it. The same look was mirrored on most of the Death Eater's faces. These were sick and twisted men.

Then the next images that flashed in her mind were of Draco. She watched as he undid his pants and freed himself. The next image, he was hovering over her, slowly rocking into her. Then all she could see was Draco's mouth, uttering those haunting words "I'm so, so sorry," over and over again.

She felt disgusting, dirty, and impure for what he did to her. She felt nauseous about who had done this. She blamed Voldemort. She blamed Lucius for coming up with the idea. She blamed Draco for taking her. And she blamed herself. That last realization, however, was the breaking point for Hermione. She moved to a different corner of her cell, one that didn't have vomit, and lay upon the floor, crying. She cried because she hated herself for letting this happen to her. She cried for being stupid enough to pick up that Portkey. She cried because she, in her heart of hearts, believed that, for the first time in her life, that she was a weak person. And in that corner of her cell, crumpled in a ball, Hermione cried herself to sleep. She lay there all night, dreaming of nothing more than Voldemort's haunting grin, and Draco's mouth repeating those four words, over and over, until the next morning's sun woke her.

Ron and Harry had been searching and re-searching her cot for the last four hours when Ron finally fell onto his own and groaned rather loudly.

"How could she be that neat, Harry? Not a single hair on her cot? Nothing left for us with which we could find her? Where is she? Bloody hell, this is so wrong," Ron sobbed the last four words.

Neither boy wanted to believe that this was yet another dead end in the search towards finding their taken friend. Harry sat and contemplated what to do next before giving a resigned sigh.

"I don't think we should keep trying this way. I think we should give up on the tracking spell idea and instead keep thinking about other ways to find her. We're losing precious time, and we've been searching her bed for hours. We're not getting anywhere. So what would Hermione do now, Ron?"

Ron looked at his friend and then down to the table located just a foot past where their cots were aligned. Upon this table was a stack of books. Ron looked back up into Harry's green eyes and sighed.

"Let's read, mate."

Hermione woke to the small amount of light that was streaming gently through her barred window. She refused to open her eyes just yet; she already knew where she was and didn't want the instantaneous reminder. So she just stretched her arms over her head and began to roll over slowly, as several of her muscles were stiff from the day before.

Her eyes sprung open at the sound of a 'pop!' indicating that someone had Apparated into her cell. She was greeted by a most unexpected sight.

A small house elf stood before her, clothed only in a light pink pillowcase that looked as if she had personally altered it to resemble something close to a child's dress. Her dress, however, was dirty. This part didn't surprise Hermione, for she knew that house elves weren't treated with much respect, and they certainly weren't allowed to be presented with decent clothing. Because giving an elf any form of clothing would set them free, and wizards, particularly the Malfoys, were just too selfish to let that happen.

The elf had very large light blue eyes that gave off such warmth and happiness. Why would a house elf under the order of a Malfoy ever look happy? Hermione thought to herself, all the while staring at the creature before her.

Suddenly the elf bowed very low to the ground, her long ears flopping forward to lightly touch the concrete floor before she rose back up to stand at her full height and looked into Hermione's eyes. When the elf spoke, it was with a very sweet, soothing voice. Almost like a little girl trying to soothe her mummy.

"I name is Cordelia, Miss Herm-ony. I is here to bring you breakfast! I hopes you will like what Cordelia broughts you. She and the other house elves worked hard to make a meal that you, Miss Herm-ony, will like. We have heard great things about Miss, and how she is trying to help house elves like I. So we make you good breakfast!"

She squeaked with delight and snapped her fingers. A large plate appeared into the air and drifted over to Hermione. It slowly lowered until it was sitting on the floor in front of her. It was piled high with bread pudding, and fruit; Danishes and cheese. There were nuts and grapes, and what looked to be sliced peaches. There was also a few other things that Hermione didn't recognized but still made her mouth water with the tantalizing aromas wafting her way.

But instead of giving in to her grumbling stomach, all Hermione could do was sit there and stare in awe at the only creature – man or otherwise – to show her any form of happiness in this whole Manor. But she must have stared a bit too long because the elf's smile suddenly disappeared and was replaced with pouty lips as her eyes widened and started to water. Oh no, she thought, I made the only thing here that likes me sad! What did I do?

As a tear leaked down Cordelia's face, she looked into Hermione's eyes and said "Miss Herm-ony does not like the food we makes for her. I is sorry Miss. I can bring different breakfast? I is so sorry, Miss. We only wanted to make you like us…"

By the end of the house-elf's speech, she was full-on sobbing. Hermione felt terrible and jumped up, moving closer to the elf to comfort her.

Cordelia jumped back, clearly startled and then began to cry again. Hermione sat down in front of the elf and gently grabbed her hand. She pulled Cordelia into her lap and began rocking her back and forth, as though she was a small child who was frightened. The elf whimpered at first, but Hermione spoke to calm her nerves.

"There, there, Cordelia. I meant no offense to your lovely breakfast. I promise you I am incredibly grateful to you and the others for making me such a wonderful meal. I didn't mean to upset you. I'm sorry, Cordelia."

The little elf finally stopped crying and dried the remaining tears onto her pillowcase dress. She stood up and turned around to look at Hermione once again.

"I is glad you are happy for breakfast. Cordelia just knew Miss Herm-ony would be nice to us. But you don'ts have to worry. Cordelia will not tell the Masters. I will tell them nothing. We house elves will protect our Miss Herm-ony."

Hermione was grateful for the food and the company of the house elf, but as soon as she had devoured her breakfast, the elf had grabbed the empty plate and with a snap of her fingers, after a smile and a wave to Hermione, and a soft 'crack!' the elf was gone. And then Hermione was left all alone to ponder the nightmares she'd had that night. She was still angry with herself and she spent the next several hours berating herself for being so unintelligent and weak. She kept at it until she heard the distinct sound of graceful feet gliding down the stairs.

She looked up and saw two grey eyes staring at her through the bars. Accompanied by those eyes, was elegant white hair and quite a few wrinkles. Annabelle had come back to visit.

Draco had been pacing his room since his departure from Hermione's cell. He knew he deserved her hate, but that didn't mean it didn't bloody sting when she'd said that. He knew he'd been a downright git, not to mention an evil bastard, to her at school. But he'd changed. Since he almost had to kill Dumbledore, he'd finally realized he'd been on the wrong side all along. When Dumbledore offered to help and protect him, Draco thought he was just being the batty old man that he was. But then he'd began thinking about those words over and over up until now and couldn't get that crazy old man's eyes out of his head. Dumbledore's gentle, twinkling eyes. Those eyes that held only kindness, protection, and, most important to Draco, forgiveness. And it was long after Dumbledore's death that Draco finally allowed himself to realize that he could still fight for the right side. The Light side. And he intended to do just that. From the side lines, of course, because there was no way Dumbledore's side would accept him. No way in hell. But he would do everything in his power to help them, without their knowledge, of course. And for the first time, saving his arse wasn't the reason for his actions.

But instead it was to save the wizarding world. And that changed all his plans.

And now Granger was in the dungeon, where she would surely be tortured. His plans had been coming along so well, until she showed up. His mind went blank when he saw her there, before Voldemort. And instantly he felt this pull to her, like he needed to protect her. And as he reached deep in his pockets, his fingers brushing the cold metal of the purity ring, everything clicked.

His Great Aunt had pulled him aside before the meeting and cryptically gave him the ring. And she told him to use it if he felt he needed to protect someone. And then standing there, looking at Granger, he felt such strong emotions to save her, and he knew that was why the ring had come to him. But the only thing he couldn't grasp was how could his Great Aunt have known that he would need that ring tonight of all nights?

He decided he wanted answers, so he left his room for the first time that evening in search of Annabelle. He walked down many halls and came to a spot in front of the door to a room located just above the library. He knocked gently, as he didn't want to wake her if she was sleeping. But just before he'd decided he wouldn't bother her for the evening and was about to turn to go back to his room, the door swung open. There his Great Aunt Annabelle stood, looking as if she'd been waiting for a visitor.

"Draco, darling. I've been wondering when you were going to show up. Let me guess, you want to know more about the ring?"

Stunned into silence with his Great Aunt's perceptiveness, Draco sidestepped into her room and headed towards the sofa located to the right of the entrance. She gestured for him to sit and he did. She waved her wand, and conjured two glasses that Draco assumed were full of pumpkin juice. He immediately took a sip to ease his parched mouth, and was rewarded with the sweet and tangy taste of the drink. Once Annabelle had seated herself on the sofa facing Draco she looked up at her great nephew and spoke.

"You want to know how I knew to give you the ring tonight before this very meeting, am I right?"

All Draco could do was nod his head mutely.

"Well Draco, I am going to tell you something that no one else alive in our family knows about me. Do you know what a Seer is?"

Again he nodded, but spoke up to define what she'd asked,

"A Seer is someone who has been gifted with foresight, right Aunt Annabelle?"

She looked at him and smiled. He was such a smart boy. She really did care for him so much.

"Yes Draco. But a Seer, I am not. I am what they call a Siria. It is half Seer – half witch. I can see bits and pieces of the future, but none of it usually makes sense until right before this future I see becomes the present. This morning I was drinking my tea and I had images flash through my mind. The first was Miss Granger. Then the next was you slipping a ring onto her finger. And the rest I cannot tell you. For I cannot tell you what is to come, because it may change what is supposed to be, Draco."

Draco looked at his Great Aunt, slightly puzzled. He'd learned about time-turners in one of his classes at Hogwarts and knew that if you messed with even a fraction of time, it would change future events. But he'd never heard of a Seer telling someone their future, and it messing up "what is to be." So he asked the only question that had been on his mind.

"But why did you feel I needed to specifically give Herm-Miss Granger the ring? Why not anyone else. Why in the world would I need to protect the one girl that hates me with all her heart?"

Draco bowed his head at the last part of his question. He knew Hermione despised him. And it hurt. He was so confused and frustrated with what he was feeling for her, but nothing left him as confused and speechless as his Great Aunt's next words.

"The reason I knew you were to give her the ring, Draco, is because I have seen her in your future….

"The reason that I knew I was meant to give it to you tonight is because she, Draco, is your eternal soul mate."