Disclaimer: I own nothing (seriously, poor college student, lol, I haven't a penny to my name). JK Rowling retains ownership of all her lovely characters and world building, I am just a privileged guest to share my inspiration based on her work.

Warning: May contain explicit language, sexual references, and violence


A/N: This chapter is longer than the usual, because it includes POVs from both Draco and Hermione, so enjoy!


Chapter 7: Flashbacks

Hermione POV

I shook the paranoia from my thoughts, choosing to ignore Malfoy's unwarranted reaction. His whims were the least of my concerns.

Herding the first years turned out to be a colossus of a task, seeing everything for the first time, their young eyes widened in amazement at Hogwart's many wonders. I drop the Hufflepuffs off first since their dorms were closest to the Great Hall, before shuttling the Gryffindor's up the winding staircase.

The walk fills me with dread, memories of the Final Battle for Hogwarts flooding my memory as my senses absorb the sights around me. My muscles tense in response, the familiar sights so closely linked to the horrors of the past that they cause an immediate, visceral response from my body. My hands clench at my sides, and irrational crescendo of fear and stress rising through my body.

I close my eyes, breathing deeply and forcing myself to calm down, a ritual that has become common these past few months. Slowly, the feelings lessened, but the sense of unease remained. It was harder here, where it had all happened, to control my emotions. The newly refurbished walls and floors and columns were piles of rubble in my mind, the lively bodies walking the halls, corpses and the injured strewn across the castle, the bubbly laughter, horrified screams.

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I hurry the first years towards the portrait of the Fat Lady, quickly showing them to their dorms. Several older students greet me merrily on my way out, but I don't return the friendly conversation.

Once out of the portrait hole, I find myself rushing down the hall, and to match the erratic beating of my heart, I begin to sprint, my feet like wings flying over the stone floors. I feel out of control, I feel everything falling apart around me, I race, trying to escape, but escape what?

Nothing made any sense, I knew the war was over, I knew I should feel safe here, but I couldn't suppress the terrifying wash of fear that consumed me. It had no name, no reason, only impenetrable strength.

Run, run, run... it was the only impulse my mind could muster. I knew it wouldn't help, you ran to escape something physical, I couldn't run to escape the thoughts in my head.

"Hermione?" Neville called out to me from a nearby alcove, concerned. I don't stop, not really hearing his voice. I'm in my own illusion now and it's slowly consuming me.

The ghosts of green lights were flashing in my eyes, red sparks and blasts of hexes flying past, the powerful drive of adrenaline in my veins. A deep chaotic rumble of screaming voices, and yelling incantations submerged me. Run, duck, or you'll die. Wet tears I can't prevent stung in my eyes.

"Granger?" a familiar voice yelled behind me. The voice registered in my head, and spiked my beating heart. I chanced whipping my head around to see my pursuer briefly.

Dark cloak, sallow face. Death Eater.

Oh Merlin, Merlin no, no, no, no, no. I cried harder. Faster, Hermione, smartest witch of your age, can't you do anything right?

A hex hits me in the back of the legs a I stumble forward, skidding onto the floor. My still damp clothes cause me to slide a few feet on the hardwood floor. My heart is hammering out of my chest, my body immobile from the hex.

Footsteps draw nearer, clicking on the hard floor, growing louder and louder. I quake in terror. Anger rushes through my mind. Show some backbone, I tell my self, have some dignity.

But my body doesn't listen. I don't want to die, I don't want to be tortured.

A rough hand lifts my chin, and then, gripping my shoulder, draws me to my feet. I'm vaguely aware of lips moving and words coming out, but a grinding roar in my ears drowns everything out as I wait for the inevitable.


Draco POV

Strolling up the winding path to the castle, I eagerly deposit the herd of first years with McGonagall, making my way to the Slytherin table.

I scan the length of the room for any of the old crew, but don't find any familiar faces. With Crabbe dead, Goyle in prison, and Pansy engaged, I feel very solitary.

I'm about to resign myself to sitting alone for the first time in my educational experience, when I spot a large brown hand waving me down. I match it to the mischievously grinning face of one of my good friends, Blaise Zabini.

"Draco! Lost a bet that you'd show your sorry arse," Blaise joked, scooting to the side. A very pretty 5th year Ravenclaw is practically sitting on his lap, enamored by his very presence. I roll my eyes. We hadn't even started the school year for Merlin's sake!

Blaise always did have a way with women. Not that I didn't have my share, but Blaise was a little bit... looser in his standards. He'd bedded Slytherins, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs alike. The rumor mill even whispered that he'd shared a night with the She-Weasel before the war. I couldn't confirm or deny these rumors, Blaise always was very secretive about his goings about, and I didn't care to pry.

The thought of anyone lowering themselves to sleep with a blood traitor Gryffindor... The thought made me shudder in disgust. The selection of girls in Slytherin might not be very diverse, but it was enough. As I glanced around the table, I saw many of the gawky 5th and 6th years had apparently learned how to properly groom themselves, and a few were even quite pretty.

I smiled smugly to myself. This year would not be without more than a few conquests, and I mulled over the prospects contently in my head, glad that my return to Hogwarts wasn't a complete waste.

I picked at my food absentmindedly, for not the first time, wistfully craving the cuisine from home. Hogwarts' standards always were lower. I'd heard the house-elves who worked in the kitchens had all been freed. I snorted derisively at the thought. A free elf doesn't do half as good a job as an enslaved one.

My musings were interrupted by a muted silence and then a noisy chatter of giggles and gossip. I cock my head to the side, trying to hear what had caused the ruckus.

"Hermione Granger? The war hero? Doing what with Malfoy?"

"What does that have to do with her interrupting the feast, sopping wet?"

My head spins around as I narrow down the voices to a cluster of 5th year Ravenclaws, speaking in what they believe to be hushed tones. I'm about to storm over and find out why on Earth my name was being put into the same sentence as that Mudblood when I hear a similar exclamation from further down the Hufflepuff table, and then again among a few 3rd year Slytherins.

By this time, I am positively livid. What in Merlin's name was going on around here? Had the entire world turned upside down?

I nudge Blaise, interrupting his exploration of the 5th year's mouth as I duck my head, whispering in low tones. "Blaise, ask your girlfriend to go ask those 5th years what they were talking about." I point to the cluster of them.

Apparently I hadn't whispered softly enough, because the Ravenclaw heard me, straightening up proudly on Blaise's lap, her smile beaming like she'd just won the Quidditch Cup. Blaise swiftly kicked my shin, causing me to curse internally as he shot me a glare.

For a moment I thought he might deny me, but with a roll of his eyes, he passed the request on to the girl, and she scooted off, proud as a god damn peacock.

Once she was out of sight, Blaise kicked me again, harder, and this time, my swear was audible.

"Goblin's Crotch, what was that about?" I accuse Blaise irritably, rubbing my shin tenderly.

Blaise's eyes narrow. "We NEVER use the "g" word in front of girls, Malfoy, you know that!" He meant girlfriend of course, and the realization dawns on me. Blaise shoves my shoulder, his brow furrowed. "Now I'm going to have to go through all the trouble to dump the little trollop and have my name drug through the rumor mill mud. I won't be able to get a girl for another month on account of you."

I rolled my eyes. Even with his reputation as a total arse-hole, Blaise always managed to seduce somebody or other, and he knew it. He was mostly annoyed with me that he'd have to go through the extra trouble.

As the girl returned, Blaise shot me a warning glance, which I nodded in response to. I wouldn't trouble him any more.

Blaise let the girl perch on his lap again, playing with her hair flirtatiously. My lips pursed in disapproval. Couldn't he wait until he got what I needed to start flirting again?

"So, what did they have to say, sweetest girl?"

Blaise's fake affection had my stomach rolling in disgust, but it seemed to work on the silly bint.

Her voice was light and non-substantial as she giggled, flattered pink. "Well, they've had it from the Gryffindors that the Golden Trio has been having a spat and..."

I was listening intently, happy to hear that perfect Potter and his cronies weren't as ideal as they seemed, when I realized the girl was looking at me rather nervously.

Blaise kissed her neck sensually, encouraging her softly. "What else did they say...?" He asked in a gentle voice, trying not to pressure her and scare her off.

"Well... um..." I briefly wondered if she was flustered due to Blaise's lips on her neck, or the content of her response. Her voice was shaky, and she looked down, unable to meet my curious gaze. "Er, see... Ron was accusing Hermione of... um, well, you know... with Malfoy."

She seemed incapable of blatantly explaining what the Mudblood and I were supposedly doing, but by the suggestive raise of her eyebrows and insinuating tone, I knew exactly what people were saying and it would not do, not at all.

Blaise kissed the girl, and let her off his lap to return to the Ravenclaw table so he and I could talk.

As he turns around to face me, I curse him internally for the gleeful, exalted expression on his face. He looks like the cat who's eaten the canary.

"Why Draco, I hadn't realized how... reformed you've become." Blaise lingers on the word reformed, rolling it off his tongue, practically oozing smugness.

I feel the contents of the crummy Hogwarts food rising up my throat at the thought of even touching something so filthy, so... beneath me as Granger is. She is a freak, and abomination, a spot on the wizarding race.

I feel like punching the satisfaction off of Blaise's face, except Slytherin's don't resort to Muggle brutality to fight. Emotion is a sign of weakness, so, as disgusted as I feel, and as angry as I am, I pull the Malfoy curtain of apathy up, and regard Blaise coolly.

"I assure you, these..." I search momentarily for the right word to fit my sentiment. "...vile rumors are fabricated. As if I would lower myself to that filth."

Blaise is still grinning, damn him. "Well that's a shame. I was going to say, if Gryffindor's privileged little princess has finally taken a walk on the dark side, I'd like to take a taste of those waters, if you catch my drift."

Unfortunately, I did, and it was making me sick to my stomach. "Blaise, you go too far. If you weren't my friend, I'd hex you into next week."

Blaise winked wickedly, his eyes glinting with amusement. "So, Draco doesn't like to share his playthings..."

I shoved him, throwing my calm collection to the wind. Blaise Zabini was a powerful ally, but for all the perks of our friendship, he could still be a right bloody wanker.


Draco POV

As dinner winds down, I run over in my head how I'm supposed to confront Granger about the disgusting rumors. If she'd started them, the witch was going to get a lot worse than a dip in the Black Lake.

Collecting the hoard of first years, I wait for the crowd to pass, my angry gaze boring into Granger's turned head. I see her fidget uncomfortably, as though she can feel the aura of my anger reaching out to strangle her from the other side of the room.

Her head turns around, sweeping the room for the reason for the feeling when she meets my gaze, wide amber eyes confused and bewildered. I hold her glance, fury radiating off of me. She lowers her eyes, uncomfortable, and turns away, feigning innocence.

I don't believe her for one instant, but I decide to wait until I can corner her alone to confront her. For now, I played baby sitter for a crowd of miserable little prats.


Draco POV

I had just left the Slytherin's in the dungeon dorms, and was walking up the stairs to meet McGonagall in her office for our meeting when I entered the hall, and as I passed a hall junction, I felt a rush of air whip past me and see a brown fluffy blur.

I step back, surprised at the sudden motion, before my eyes focus in, and I realize the figure that darted past me and was sprinting away from me in the hall was none other than Granger.

What the hell? Had she seen me?

I shout out her name, repressing a stream of curses I'd like to tag onto the sentiment in hopes she would stop.

She heard my call and twisted around to see me before turning back around and fleeing from me faster than before, confirming my suspicion that she was trying to get away from me.

Like that stupid mudblood stood a chance outrunning me. I chased after her, drawing my wand from my pocket as I approached her. I yell out for her to stop but it merely added to her determination to escape my pursuit.

Frustrated and in no mood to run around the castle like a damned fool, I take my aim and shoot a leg binding charm at the fleeing witch, catching her in the back of the legs as she falls forward.

Pleased with myself, I approach her trembling form. "What the hell, Granger? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

I grip her chin and yank it up to face me, my shrewd eyes taking in her widely dilated pupils and the silver sheen of tears streaking her face.

Her appearance confuses me, as I wonder why she'd had such an intense reaction to me. I use my strength to haul her to her feet. She shakes in my grip, and her eyes seem glazed over.

"Now listen here Granger, if you think for one second I'm going to tolerate you spreading disgusting rumors about me associating with your filth, you're wrong. I can make life very unpleasant for you if you don't fix this." She didn't respond to my accusation, she was staring over my shoulder blankly, and more tears were streaming down her face. I began to notice that she seemed detached, and not entirely present.

"Are you even listening?! Stupid mudblood bitch." I let go of her shoulder and she stumbled back, hitting the wall behind her. I turned to leave, a disgusted look painted across my face.

"Mr. Malfoy! What is the meaning of this!"

The sound of that voice filled the pit of my stomach with dread. Headmistress McGonagall was hurrying down the hall, taking in the scene with an enraged expression on her face.

Shit. How was I going to talk my way out of this mess?


A/N: So there it is! Hopefully you guys enjoyed Draco's perspective, and it stayed true enough to character. I enjoy writing from their opposing positions, so I'll most likely continue in this fashion, switching it up between the two. As the story progresses, I may add in POVs from other characters also, as needed, but for now, I'm sticking to Draco/Hermione. Thank you guys for seeing my story through this far, and as always, I'd love to hear some feedback from you guys (positive, constructive, whatever it may be) :)