I don't own Harry Potter.

Chapter Seven

Where is she?

Draco walked fast through the corridor, carelessly pushing past the younger years who stupidly remained in his path. Their tiny cries of protest died halfway out of their throats, and they rushed away at the cold expression in his eyes. Panic reared itself in their faces and they whispered to each other as they fled but none of it reached the taller boy's ears. Draco didn't give them a single glance; his eyes were set on the far end of the hall and once he reached it, turned sharply right, and came to a dead end.

Staying dead center in the middle of the corridor wasn't a good idea-he ducked into a small alcove, heart pounding, flattened himself against the wall, and pulled out a scrap of parchment from a pocket within his robes.

The scrap was worn and crumpled, the lines had faded a little since the day they'd appeared to form a map but his vision was sharp and he read it with no trouble. He was the small black dot standing near the old History of Magic room, which had been abandoned several centuries before anyone currently attending the school had ever set foot inside it. The small red dot that was her was nowhere to be seen, and therein lied the trouble.

He'd been having a snack in the Slytherin commons when he'd felt the note grow hot in his pocket to signify there was activity on her end, and had all but sprinted from the bowels of the dungeons to the seventh floor. When he'd received the alert her dot had been headed in this direction and vanished shortly after, just a few feet from where he now stood, and Draco's curiosity had been piqued at once.

Why had she disappeared? Had his theory been correct? Would he find the Gryffindor commons here? Or would he finally find the truth behind her lies? Either way, he was buzzing with anticipation. Draco didn't know how long he would have to wait for her to appear-would she even? A frown bent his brow. He hadn't thought this through but he was more than willing to improvise-if ending all this meant hiding out here for a few hours then here he would stay.

Fancying that he could hear some footsteps, he cast a Disillusionment charm over himself-unless it was Granger he didn't have the patience to deal with them. His duties as prefect would have to wait.

It turned out he didn't have to wait much longer. The click of a door being closed as softly as possible was impossible to miss in the otherwise blatant silence of the area, and Draco stood perfectly still, waiting to pounce. There was only one way she could go, and it was in his direction. The shuffle of a robe came next and then rapid footsteps, each leading her closer to him.

Draco waited until she had passed him to catch her, just to make sure it wasn't anyone else. She only made it one step ahead of him, still blissfully unaware before he grabbed her from behind and pulled her back. The shriek that ripped itself from her throat went unheard-he forced his palm over her mouth and bit back a shout as she sank her teeth into his fingers, but in the end he managed to pin her against the wall.

"Who are you?" she hissed once he uncovered her mouth. "Harry?"

"So I was right. It's Potter you pine for."

"Malfoy." Her voice was low with dislike.

Draco ended the concealing spell and smirked. "Granger."

"Would you kindly distance yourself from me?" Her palms found his chest and pushed roughly.

Her discomfort was palpable. Draco decided to use this to his advantage. She had made him wait, after all. Months and months of waiting and frustration for her to give an answer, and he'd had enough. A deep anger he hadn't known he'd been feeling brewed inside him and pushed its way out, as if he'd been unconsciously holding it back all day long.

"And here I was thinking I liked how cozy it is." He braced his arms on either side of her, palms flat against the wall, and brought himself ever closer. She raised her chin, the whites of her eyes showing. Her hands pushed at him again, but he held his ground and didn't budge.

"Back off."

Draco had to give her credit. Fear was written in every line of her body but her voice remained firm. Her hands kept him an inch away but Draco leaned in as best as he was able, and saw her pupils contract through the darkness.

His response was simple. "No."

His nose was an inch from hers. Granger met his stare angrily.

"What do you want?"

The laugh burst out of him unexpectedly and she jumped.

"Playing stupid doesnt become you, Granger. You've spent too many years establishing yourself as a walking, talking library to look me in the eye and ask me what I want when I've made it clear several times over by now."

"I want you to stop following me," she said smoothly. "I want you to leave me alone." Her hands gave another sharp push and Draco felt the force of it in his ribs but held fast.

"I told you I won't do that until I get answers," he replied. "Number one being: What were you doing in that room?"

"Nothing," she said.

Draco smiled and pushed himself closer to her, earning a sharp intake of breath from the cornered witch. One more inch and their bodies would have been pressed together.

"You take too many liberties," she said. "Let me go."

Draco leaned down a little more so their eyes were level with each other. His hands slid down the wall to rest around her neck, comfortably loose but every now and then his thumbs brushed against her windpipe and she squirmed. He could feel her frantic pulse.

"I'll scream," she whispered, sensing his threat. "Lay a finger on me and you'll regret it."

"All you have to do is tell me what you were doing," he said, winding a lock of her hair around his finger. She leaned to the side, scowling. "Give me the truth, Granger, and I'll never bother you again. Wizard's Oath."

"It wasn't anything important," she insisted.

Draco's brushed a finger against the nape of her neck; a ghost's touch, but she shivered all the same.

"I'll be the judge of that."

"Stop. You're making me uncomfortable." She gave him another shove. The shadows shifted a little and her eyes appeared gold in the dim light. The long, dark lashes that framed her eyes almost grazed his nose when he leaned in even closer, his eyes dipped down to her mouth and her lips parted. For some reason the small action held him like a most beautiful illustration and words pushed through the barrier of his lips before he could think twice.

"You've got the loveliest mouth I've ever seen, Granger."

Where the devil did that come from?

Draco was more astounded with himself than embarrassed, and so was Granger apparently, though she tried not to show it. Abruptly she shut her mouth and gave him the strangest look, as if he'd begun to tap dance before her. Draco was in no mood to humor her-even he didn't know whether he'd really meant that or just thrown that in to make her more uncomfortable. The words had just slipped out...

His hands cupped her neck now-neither of them had noticed until Granger tried turning her head away and couldn't.

"Get your hands off me," she repeated through grit teeth. Her hands met his chest and forced him away until he stood at a respectable distance, and his hands fell away from her at last. Visibly relieved, she shuddered.

"I want this over as much as you do," he said angrily. "Tell me what I need to know and you'll have your peace."

Draco remained silent while she scowled off to the side, thoughts moiling in her eyes. Something shifted and she sighed. Her palms had clenched into fists.

"I was studying, alright? I didn't feel like being in the library so I made myself a study room to do my homework. That's my big secret."

Draco almost believed her. Almost. It sounded just like something she'd do, after all, but Draco had spent too much time getting stuck in her webs to fall into this one now.

He drew back, and in a harsher tone, said, "You expect me to believe that when you haven't got your bag on you?"

"I left it in the room. I was going to the kitchens for some food and was planning to come back later."

"And your wand?"

"In my bag."

He snorted. "You won't forget it next time, will you."

Hermione glared at him. Again, those words. Next time. She had gone through two blissful weeks of no interruptions and had dared to think that Malfoy had given up at last only to end up here again. A huge mistake on her part, one she was keen never to make again but for now only one thing mattered: Malfoy could not enter that room.

"No."

At last he stepped out of the cramped space and out into the corridor, blocking the exit. He gave her a piercing stare and motioned towards the door she had come out from, bringing her attention to his wand.

"Show me."

Hermione tried not to panic. If he took one step inside that room it would all be over, and they would be caught red handed. It was a miracle he had not asked this sooner-as awful and strange as the interlude in the alcove had been it must have lasted long enough to let everyone inside know that something had gone wrong, and she hoped beyond all hope that they had taken action by now. If not, Malfoy would undoubtedly have the best day of his life in getting to hand them over to Umbridge.

"I haven't eaten since breakfast," she said. "Let me nick something from the kitchens and then I'll come back."

His mouth twisted into a wry smile; he pulled a green apple from within his robes and offered it to her.

"Wouldn't want you starving, would we."

The tone of his voice, the look in his eyes, he was all but congratulating himself.

Dread took over her. He knows.

She was grasping for more time, that much was obvious. Draco offered her the apple again, and she reached out tentatively.

"Take me to your study," he said. "I'm eager to see it."

She took the apple and turned, rallying her wits about her. Thank goodness for Neville's bringing up an escape plan when they had just started the DA. By now the everyone should have evacuated the room as protocol demanded and she felt her confidence return to herself.

If not, then Malfoy would be heavily outnumbered and she would relish seeing the look on his face before she Obliviated him. A part of herself was mildly shocked that she would do such a thing but he had more than earned it-that and much more.

Besides, desperate measures, and all that.

The door creaked loudly as she opened it and walked inside to reveal an empty room, to her satisfaction-and regret.

Malfoy followed behind her, his sharp eyes taking in everything, from the books along the walls to the number of chairs. He was so busy inspecting it all he didnt notice Hermione propping the door back open with magic, and sending a short message on her DA galleon.

Send help.

Hermione glanced at a certain part of the farthest wall, where the DA often hung up their roster-thankfully, someone had had the foresight to take it down. She wondered whom she was to thank.

Malfoy looked at her suspiciously. "You need such a large place to study?"

Hermione willed her heart to stop beating so loudly. "Open places help me think."

"Where's your bag?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "What, are you going to search me?"

"Do you have something to hide?" His tone had grown meaner. Her hand tightened around the apple, bruising its flesh.

She grit her teeth. "No."

"Then bring me your bag."

Hermione found it and brought it to him, slamming it down onto the table.

He took his time, leafing through her books and parchments, as if he thought she was stupid enough to leave her most important documents unconcealed. For once, Hermione was pleased by his ignorance. Remembering her hunger, she bit into the apple with a sharp crack. Malfoy looked back at her, barely hiding his temper, and she arched her brow at him, gesturing with the apple to move him along. He stiffened with anger and began to search the smaller pockets within her schoolbag.

"Don't be alarmed at my feminine products," she added casually when he paused after unzipping a certain pocket. To hide her smile she bit into the apple again and watched as he calmly closed it and stood there a moment without saying a word. His face had gone red.

He went to the bookcases next, scanning the titles lined up there. What was he expecting to find there?

"Why so many defense against the dark arts books?"

"You and I know full well our current professor is willfully incompetent at teaching it."

"Watch your words," he warned.

The floor was his next area of interest; he stared at the carpeted surface as if expecting to find a footprints, or any sign revealing more than one person had recently been there. He found none.

"Have you finished playing detective?" she asked. "I'm really quite hungry and this apple hasn't helped much." She tossed the core into the bin neatly, where it landed with a metallic clang, and the sound woke him-he turned and advanced towards her, his face twisted in fury.

"You're lying," he hissed.

Hermione contrived to look surprised.

"Am I?" She put her hands on her hips. "You'd think a girl would know hunger when she felt it."

His hand lashed out again, wrapped around her throat, pushed her back into the wall. There were no barely there touches now-his fingers sought and dug into her windpipe.

"This is hardly fair," she managed to say, glaring at him. "Let me get my wand and we'll fight on a more even ground."

She was sick to death of him pushing her around like this. Having gone so long without a chance to properly fight back, it was all she wanted now, Umbridge be damned. Malfoy was going to learn tonight that she'd had enough.

This only made him angrier, and he slammed his palm into the wall, just beside her head. Hermione tried not to flinch.

"Vermin," he called her. "That's all you are, Mudblood. Everyone might think you're such a saint but all I see is garbage."

"I don't care what you think," she hissed back, and his face contorted with rage. His hands squeezed her throat harder.

She thrashed, shoving at him with her hands.

"I'm going to break you," he breathed. "I promise it."

She believed him. The look on his face...

She stretched out her hand towards the tsble, and tried to summon her wand, but the incantation was shredded between his hands. She couldn't breathe. Her thoughts were becoming too frantic to think straight.

He's going to kill me.

"Stop," she uttered. Black spots danced at the edges of her vision. She could try pushing him again or she could try for her wand one more time. She reached for it again, eyes watering, summoning it nonverbally this time, and watched as it rolled along the table.

A loud bang registered, and she was suddenly free, sliding down along the wall, coughing violently, tears gathered in her eyes. Her neck hurt so much...

Somebody was shouting. She thought she knew the voice, but it was hard to tell because her whole head might as well have been under water. Her heartbeat was the only thing she could hear-weak, but still there. Hermione coughed again, and focused on breathing, but even that hurt. She stood, feeling a rush of blood to her head, and swaying, caught herself on the table, and finally got hold of her wand.

Professor McGonagall stood at the door with her wand drawn and a look of such fury on her face that rivaled Draco's from mere moments beforehand.

"How dare you assault another student!" She strode up to Malfoy, who had been thrown onto his back by the force of her spell. Her nostrils flared and cheeks red with anger, and collected his wand with a nonverbal Accio. "To use such mindless violence like a coward!"

Draco glared at her. "I'm under orders from the Headmistress, Professor. Granger provoked me."

"That does not excuse your atrocious behavior, Mr. Malfoy. One hundred points from Slytherin for assaulting another student." She let out a sharp breath through her nose. "Never in all my years have I seen such brutality in a student. If I had not come here in time how far would you have gone?"

Malfoy said nothing and there McGonagall found his answer.

"This will call for expulsion."

Hermione's heart soared.

McGonagall approached her and touched her shoulder. "Ms. Granger, are you well?"

"Yes, Professor." Every word hurt.

"Are you sure?" McGonagall scrutinized the marks around her throat. The lines around her mouth deepened.

Hermione nodded.

"Did Mr. Malfoy do anything else?"

"Nothing to this caliber, Professor."

"Very well. You must go to the Infirmary. I will take you there myself."

"That's not necessary, Professor." Hermione had no intention of going.

"Nonsense. If the Headmistress comes across you she will not hesitate to pounce. I do not care what clearance the Ministry has given her," she said, "I will not allow violence against my students."

"Really, Professor, I will be fine."

McGonagall assessed her carefully.

"Very well. I will visit you later."

She looked to Draco, her eyes so cold they could have frozen the whole room. "Follow me."

Hermione watched them leave. McGonagall left first and Draco followed, but not before turning to look at Hermione. She thought he would have glared, or maintained his enraged expression, but his face was almost blank, which was worse. He looked at her with nothing but contempt in his eyes, and inclined his head towards her, a message flashed urgently in his eyes, only for her. A chill ran down her back as Hermione understood his meaning at once, and remained motionless, careful not to spur him on again.

I'm going to break you, he'd said. That look he'd given her just now had cemented his promise.

Hermione fought off the uneasiness and stared back defiantly until he turned and left. Even after being caught he thought he still had the upper hand.

Good luck coming through on that promise when you're kicked out of school, she thought haughtily.

It was lucky McGonagall had found them when she did-Malfoy's volatile attitude unnerved her very much. It was a miracle Umbridge hadn't found them either, or things really would have become worse.

She's going to find out anyway, Hermione thought angrily as she gathered her things and left the room quickly, headed for the Gryffindor Tower, but the pain in her throat was so much that she relented and went to the Infirmary, where a strangely kind and gentle Madame Pomfrey attended to her with some potions and and several dreamless sleep and calming draughts to take with her, as well as a salve to fade bruises. She did not ask many questions and Hermione was grateful. She hid in a bathroom to apply the salve, and finally let herself cry.

The Gryffindor commons were empty when she entered them. Hermione looked around, frowning. She let her bag slide off her shoulder to land hard on the floor, and walked around a little, checking her wristwatch.

Oh, no wonder. Dinner's almost over. Did I really take that long?

She hoped Ron and Harry would bring her some food-she had no energy left for the day; the trek to the kitchens felt like too much work, so she sat down in her favorite armchair and decided to wait.

She must have fallen asleep, because what felt like a minute later (and it might as well have been) someone was shaking her shoulder gently to wake her up.

"Wake up, Hermione," Ron was saying.

She opened her eyes and let out a breath, sitting straighter in the chair. Harry and Ron stood before her. She hugged them instantly. Surprised, they traded worried looks.

"What happened to you?" Harry asked. "You were gone for too long so we left; we thought maybe Umbridge had found you."

"After everyone left we snuck by the old toad's office to see if we could get you out but there wasn't anyone in there," Ron added. "We worried."

"We need to talk in private," Hermione said, looking around them. Everyone else was arriving from dinner, chatting amiably and lounging around the area. What she had to say was serious and she could easily be overheard here, and she didn't feel like sharing the news with everyone.

Quickly, the three of them made their way to the most secluded corner, and Hermione wasted no time in telling them everything that had happened earlier. Ron brought out a small parcel from his schoolbag, which turned out to be a load of food he'd pilfered from the dinner table, and famished, Hermione ate while they reacted to her news.

"You're not hurt, then?" Harry asked intently.

"Aside from a sore throat, no, thanks to Pomfrey."

"I always said he was a coward, didn't I?" Ron said angrily, "Only a coward fights someone who hasn't got their wand."

"You'd have obliterated him, no contest," Harry said. "Remember that punch in third year? He was afraid of you for months after."

"He always thought he was so great and then he pulls shit like this. I wish I could have punched his face in, I'd die happy," Ron said bitterly.

Hermione smiled ruefully. "Perhaps, if we ever see him again. But that won't be for a long time."

"I can't believe he was thick enough to believe he could get away with that here," Harry said.

"McGonagall hasn't called for you yet?"

"No."

"We didn't notice she was gone until after dinner, when she came into the Great Hall to talk to Umbridge."

"To think," Ron said with relish, "Malfoy could be leaving Hogwarts this very moment. I won't miss him, that's for certain."

"Nor I," Hermione agreed, then put down the roll of bread she'd been pinching at. "I'm only worried that Umbridge is going to twist this around somehow so it's all my fault."

"She can't," Ron said angrily. "Not when McGonagall's involved. There's no way."

"I know, but I just keep thinking how Malfoy's her favorite student and how powerful his father is-we all know they've pulled strings before-who's to say they won't do it again?"

"Why don't we go see McGonagall now?" Ron suggested.

"Can't," Hermione said. "There's a curfew now, remember?"

"But we've got the Cloak!"

"Look," Hermione said, her hand coming up to massage her throat gently. "It's been a long day and Professor McGonagall will still be here tomorrow. Besides, all I want is to go to bed. We'll see her after class, alright?"

This silenced them.

"Tomorrow, then," Harry said, and they all stood. Hermione brushed a crumb off her lap.

"We can go to the hospital wing right now and get your neck looked at," Harry told her, eyeing the bruises.

"I already have," she said, covering them with her hair. "They've already begun to fade."

"Is there anything you need?" Harry asked. "We'll get it for you."

Hermione smiled. "No, just go to bed."

She bid them goodnight and climbed the stairs to the girls' dormitories. The potions were on her bedside table-she took them quickly and rushed to take a bath, wanting to drain the exhaustion from herself with hot water. When she emerged she felt instantly better, especially after healing the bruises, and she crawled into her bed already feeling the prospects of the next day being a good one, or at the very least better than this one had been now that Malfoy was out of her way.