Disclaimer: I own nothing!

Warning: Scenes of a mild sexual nature and language in this chapter.

…..

Hermione woke with a start. At first she wasn't sure what woke her, but then she realized that Draco was holding her much too tightly. He had one arm under her, like always, jutting into her ribcage. The other hand, however, was on her hip and his long fingers were gripping her forcefully.

She was lying on her side, facing away from him, but he was pressed against her back, his mouth less than an inch from her ear, and in a much too intimate position. The only person she had ever slept with quite like this was Ron. Even then it only happened occasionally, when they knew Harry was already asleep.

A moment after she woke, Draco moaned, his breath hot in her ear, making her shiver in ways that were both good and bad. When he moaned, his fingers flexed against her hip, holding her to him. Her first thought was that he was the one having a nightmare this time.

Before that thought even fully registered, he moaned again, this time it was a name, "Kitten," and Hermione froze. Was he really having a nightmare? Surely he wasn't having a dirty dream…not about her?

"Ma-Malfoy," she stuttered in surprise.

"Mmm," he groaned low in this throat, and thrust his hips into her. Hermione squealed very quietly and tried to gently pull out of his embrace. This, however, was much more difficult than she had expected. They had been sleeping in the same bed for many nights now and Hermione Granger was not an idiot. She knew that most men woke up in the morning physically turned on, and whenever that happened, she had tried to politely ignore it.

She never intended to ever feel it intimately pressed against her bum as she slept. Every time she moved to pull further away, Draco moved to pull her closer. "Hermione," he whispered breathily and she froze. Never had he ever used her first name. Then, without any warning, he nipped her neck.

That time, when shivers ran through her body, they were all good shivers. Silently damning her body for betraying her mind and heart, she very deliberately squirmed around so that she was facing him, took his face in her hands and said with determination, "Malfoy, you will wake up. Right. Now. Or so help me I will slap you!"

"mmhfgkl," he grumbled and locked his arms around her.

SLAP!

Draco jerked awake, not even feeling his stinging cheek. He was still in his dream, in which he was in bed with Hermione, and she was writhing in pleasure beneath him, as he….wait. He was awake now. And he really was in bed with Hermione. Except the real Hermione was not writhing in pleasure at the things he was doing to her. Oh, no, the real Hermione was glaring at him, her hand poised ready for another slap, and her body was practically melded to his own through all of the layers of clothing.

"Shit," he cursed and released her. Hermione rolled over to her half of the bed, huffing slightly with indignation. "What happened, Granger?"

"What happened," she replied scathingly, her cheeks burning red, "is that you woke me up by holding me so tightly I thought I was going to suffocate."

"Did I….um, say anything?"

"…No," she lied on impulse. Lying to him seemed a much better option than admitting the truth, "Not tonight anyway."

"What do you mean not tonight anyway?"

"You must know that you talk in your sleep sometimes, Draco. But not tonight. It was just clutching to me as if you were drowning and I was your bloody life raft! Merlin, what were you having a nightmare about?" she successfully bluffed her way out of an awkward situation.

"I was…it was….I don't want to talk about it," he grumbled.

"Alright, well I'm going back to sleep. Do try to stay on your own side of the bed, won't you?"

"Yeah, alright," he didn't even argue! Hermione figured he must've been just as traumatized by his own dream as she was. It wasn't like Malfoy to take her nagging on him with such ease.

As Malfoy rolled to face away from her and punched his pillow into a fluffier position, he couldn't help but go over every detail of his dream again in his mind. What bothered him the most, more than anything, was how he wasn't bothered by the dream. At all.

It had been two weeks since the incident where she burned her hand grabbing his wand. Two weeks of near silence between the two of them. Both knew that they were starting to form an odd sort of friendship from their camaraderie and neither of them knew how to feel about it. As a result, they barely spoke except when they had to.

Yet even when they weren't speaking, they were still sharing moments together. They were still growing closer together. Draco had learned more about Hermione in the past two weeks than he had the whole six years they had been in school together. The way she preferred raspberry jam on her toast, the way she rested her chin on her knee when she was reading on the couch, the way she would always hum quietly as she brewed up potions in the kitchen, and so much more. It seemed when they weren't being distracted by words, they paid more attention to each other's habits.

Likewise, Hermione had gotten much closer to Draco despite the distance they were trying to put between them. She liked the way he always stoked the fireplace so that there were never just embers, but always blazing flames, and she noticed the way he always enjoyed softer classical music in the evenings compared to the annoying radio station he listened to in the mornings. She took notice of how he only shaved on Mondays and Thursdays, and how he preferred to wear muggle jeans in his leisure time.

Yes, the two of them had become friends despite how much they had both tried not to. Hermione knew this, and was ready to admit it, but Draco was not. Just the night before he had the risqué dream, she had offered to help him study, but he had refused and retreated to his bedroom.

When Hermione woke again, it was light out and Draco was standing beside her, straightening his tie. "Going to make breakfast?" he asked nonchalantly.

"Well, I would, but I didn't get much sleep last night because some git kept waking me up while he slept. First it was with nightmares, then he kept mumbling something about raspberry jam."

Draco frowned; he had dreamed of her all night, and not always in an entirely sexual way. "Yes, well, that doesn't mean that the bloke isn't hungry. So get your arse in the kitchen and make him breakfast before he has to leave for class."

She looked up at him dolefully and asked, "Are we really sitting here talking about you in the third person?"

"Yes, we are."

She laughed and sat up, "Alright, I'll make your bloody breakfast." Yawning, she got up and made her way out of the bedroom. Behind her, Draco kept his eyes locked on her arse as she sashayed her way toward the kitchen.

After Draco left, Hermione got dressed and made her way toward Diagon Alley. She had only run into Neville and Luna once since they had originally discovered her as Malfoy's slave, but she always kept her eye out for them. None of them had any way to contact Harry and Ron. Neville had made a point to stop by The Burrow, which was under a Fidelius Charm, but upon his arrival at their home, Arthur Weasley had stepped outside the parameters of the Charm and let Neville in.

However, much to everyone's dismay, nobody had heard anything from Ron or Harry. Neville did not divulge what he knew of Hermione. He had made it sound as though she were still with Harry and Ron, wherever they were.

Hermione sighed as she stepped into the familiar alley. She didn't like not speaking to Draco, if she were being honest with herself. Her days were often very lonely. She couldn't speak to anyone in Diagon Alley; the purebloods wouldn't talk to her because they didn't consider her worthy enough to speak to them, the half-bloods were too afraid to speak to mudbloods, and other mudbloods were usually accompanied by their masters.

Although the time in which she had spent avoiding Draco had not been an entire waste of time on Hermione's part. She had read through a few books which she had bought from Diagon Alley on the Dark Arts, and also a few that she had found in Draco's flat. She hadn't learned much that she didn't already know, but she did have one fact confirmed by three different books; there were only two definite ways to kill a horcrux; basilisk venom and fiendfyre.

Neither of which would be likely for Hermione to get a hold of. There were a few other substances, equally as dangerous, that would probably work to kill the horcrux but had not been tried yet to know for sure. One of those things was a relatively new potion in which one of the ingredients was basilisk venom.

That was why she was here. Hermione tried the apothecary first, but they didn't carry anything as dangerous as Basilisk venom. She knew then that she would have to venture down Knockturn Alley and pray she wasn't killed by a pureblood for it.

After three failed attempts at finding the substance in Knockturn Alley (she had tried a man on the street who was dealing illegal potions, Borgin and Burkes because they seemed to carry every Dark thing in existence, and a drab looking apothecary) she finally found it. She was in a little potions shop that was filled with such gruesome (and often illegal) potions that Hermione didn't even feel comfortable to be inside of this shop.

"Excuse me," she said carefully as she pulled subconsciously on her long sleeves, which hid her bonds, "Do you sell Basilisk venom here?"

"As a matter of fact, young lady, we do," He was an intimidating looking older gentleman with a full head of gray hair and several missing teeth. He grinned down at her and she wasn't sure if he was attempting to look friendly and failing or if he was purposefully trying to scare her.

"How much does it cost?" She asked haughtily as she rummaged in her pocket for her bag of coins.

"That depends on who's asking," the man replied, leaning over the counter toward her.

"Excuse me? I wasn't aware that I would need to give my name in order to buy anything from here."

"Not your name, lass, your blood status," he said the words with relish.

Lying through her pretty teeth, Hermione lifted her shoulders and spat angrily, "Pureblood!"

"Is that so?" he asked, while stroking his chin. He contemplated her for a moment before saying, "Alright then, that will be fifty galleons per ounce." Hermione winced. She wasn't sure she had enough for even one ounce, and she would need much more than that, certainly.

"I don't normally carry that much money on my person," she said evasively, "I will go visit Gringotts and then come back."

"Hold on there, lass," he said, "how much have you got on you? Perhaps we could strike a bargain. Basilisk venom is dangerous stuff, and illegal to carry. I'd be happy for you to take it off my hands." He motioned greedily toward her coin purse.

Sighing, she counted the coins and told him, "I have thirty-eight galleons and I would like at least twelve ounces of basilisk venom." Would Draco give her 600 galleons with no explanation as to what it was being used for?

He stroked his chin thoughtfully and then said, "Alright, how about thirty-eight galleons for five ounces? But that's a one-time offer only! If you leave to go to the bank and then come back, the price will be right back up to fifty galleons an ounce! I'm not normally this generous of a man, mind."

"Alright," Hermione agreed, "Thirty-eight galleons for five ounces," she held out the entire contents of her money pouch to him, and he reached for it. Before he grabbed it, however, he took hold of her arm and wrenched up the sleeve of her shirt.

"I knew it!" he growled, "Knew you weren't a pureblood the moment you walked through that door! Stink like a mudblood, you do," he told her with disgust as he wrinkled his nose.

"Listen," she said scathingly, "My master sent me in here to buy this for him and if I come home without it, I'll be in big trouble!"

"If your master sent you in here for Basilisk venom, I'll eat my hat! He should know that only purebloods can buy important things. Who did you say your master was, anyway?"

"I-I didn't," she stuttered as she pulled her arm back and tucked her galleons back into her pocket.

"Saw the initials on your bonds, lass. DLM wouldn't happen to stand for Draco Lucius Malfoy, would it?" She only glared at him without saying a word. "You go back and tell little Draco that if he wants Basilisk venom he can come in here and buy it for himself like a grown wizard!"

Recognizing the dismissal, Hermione held her head high as she turned and walked out of the shop. That had been a complete fiasco. It was worse than when she had attempted to buy a wand!

Defeated, she returned home angry and discouraged. If she could get a hold of Basilisk venom then perhaps she could transfer it to the possession of Neville, and he could perhaps pass it on to the Weasley's and Hermione was certain that at some point, Ron and Harry would contact the Weasley's and then they would have the venom!

Again, her mind played through the day when they had finally got the cup of Helga Hufflepuff. How they had escaped Gringotts on a dragon, but Griphook escaped with the sword of Gryffindor; their only weapon against horcruxes. To think! She had been so close to the substance they so badly needed.

Screaming in frustration, she threw herself onto the sofa and started to cry. She hadn't cried in a long time. Oppositely, she had come to find contentment and even occasional happiness in her situation. Even if it wasn't ideal, it was up to her to make the best of it. If this was going to be her life forever, which she refused to accept, then she at least wanted it to be a happy one.

Wanting to work out some of her frustration in a healthier way than pouting and crying, Hermione went to her bedroom and changed into yoga pants and a sports bra. Draco hadn't been able to comprehend how on earth she'd spent so much money on clothes, but he hadn't realized how many different types of clothes women needed. Especially muggleborn witches. Hermione had wanted not only witches clothing but also several types of muggle clothing as well.

Normally at home she would use a work out video and follow along, but that was simply not an option now. Even if Draco had a telly, it wouldn't work in a wizard apartment complex. Instead she did all of the moves she could from memory, throwing all of her anger into every punch and kick. Exhausted, she drank several glasses of water and then fell asleep on the couch.

That was how Draco found her when he arrived home that afternoon. Sprawled out on the couch scantily clad and slightly sweaty. He swallowed hard, resisting the urge to reach out and touch her. This definitely wasn't what he wanted to find the day after he'd had such an explicit dream about the woman before him.

Awkwardly, he cleared his throat and she blinked a few times before fully opening her eyes. Looking up at him with a smile she said, "Hi, how was your day?"

"My day was fine," he said curtly, "I was just, erm, wondering when you were planning on putting on an adequate amount of clothing?"

Hermione looked at herself, let out a laugh, and asked, "What?"

"I mean, um, dinner, why aren't you cooking dinner? Because I definitely was not commenting on your lack of clothing."

Hermione laughed and it was such a nice thing to do after the day she had had. "I'll get right on that," she teased and jumped up and sprinted to the kitchen.

"You seem to be full of energy today."

"Yes, I did a work out."

"You did a what?"

"A work out. It's a sort of muggle way to exercise. You just punch and kick a lot."

"What did you punch and kick?" he asked, sounding more curious than anything.

"The air," she said with a smile.

"I'd like to see that sometime. Who knew Hermione Granger was such a badass that she even beat up oxygen?"

"You know," said Hermione as she gazed in the cupboards, "why don't we just order a pizza? I miss pizza."

"Order a what?"

Hermione sighed, but not quite out of exasperation. "It would have been so much more beneficial for me if you had taken Muggle Studies in school. A pizza, Draco, is a type of Italian food with bread, cheese, sauce, and just about anything else you want on it."

"Sounds disgusting."

"It's delicious. You stay here, and I'll run up to the pizzeria on the corner, just a few blocks down, and I'll be right back with your precious dinner."

"Would I….can I…I am going to accompany you."

"Alright," Hermione ran to her room and pulled on a t-shirt over her sports bra, "Let's be off then."

Hermione was so amused by how uncomfortable Draco was in the pizzeria that she announced they were eating there. When they sat down and waited for the pizza to be delivered, Draco kept looking over his shoulder as if he expected You-Know-Who himself to walk through the door and find Draco in a muggle restaurant.

"Oh, relax and have a good time," said Hermione, who was enjoying his torment in a twisted way.

"I should probably mention that I received an owl today regarding you. I swear, witch, if I receive another owl about your strange behavior while you're out, I won't let you out anymore." They both knew it was an empty threat, but it still stung.

"What did the owl say?"

"Basilisk venom?" he asked in exasperation, "You really thought you could buy Basilisk venom? What did you want it for anyway?"

"A potion that I'd read about. I wanted to attempt to brew some up, but the apothecary didn't carry Basilisk venom, so I had to venture down Knockturn Alley," she explained as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "What exactly did the owl say?"

"All the shop owner wrote was that a mudblood was in his store looking to buy Basilisk venom, said it was for her master, but he didn't sell it to her and was worried that the mudblood was going to attempt to poison her master."

"Did you reply?"

"I did indeed. I laughed and immediately wrote back that if my mudblood wanted me dead, then I would be dead. Also, so as to not incriminate you, I wrote that I had expressed the desire to attain Basilisk venom, and that you, as a loyally devoted slave, attempted to procure some for me as a gesture of your devotion."

Hermione faked throwing up, Draco laughed, and their pizza arrived. When the waiter set it down in front of them, Draco's face was absolutely priceless. He looked for a moment as if he would prefer eating hippogriff dung to this monstrosity.

Hermione helped herself to a huge slice before realizing that Draco was not doing the same. Bravely, she snatched his plate, put a large slice of pizza on it and handed it back to him saying, "Eat it before it gets cold. You'll like it, I promise."

Timidly, he took a bite. "This…" he said while still chewing, "is a lot better than I thought it would be."

Then there was no more room for talking. Draco ate almost the entire pizza on his own, barely taking a breath between bites. "Merlin," he moaned fifteen minutes later, "why didn't I ever stop by this place before?"

"Oh, I don't know," Hermione teased, "maybe because you were afraid of being caught in a muggle place."

"Judging by this pizza alone, I would say muggles are alright in my book," he winked at her and leaned back in his chair, looking exceptionally satisfied.

Full and content, Hermione went to bed early that evening, glad that she had finally made a bit of progress with Draco. They had gone into a muggle restaurant. He enjoyed going to the muggle restaurant. They had an actual full conversation that wasn't awkward or strained. They were, whether he wanted to admit it or not, friends.

After she went to bed, Draco searched the entire apartment, even using Accio a few times, for every potions book in his flat. Once they were all in a pile on his desk, he went through each and every one. Not one of them required Basilisk venom for any of the potions in them.

Draco didn't think that Hermione had lied to him. Perhaps the potion wasn't in a potions book. Often times potions were included in other books. Salivating with curiosity, Draco went into Hermione's room and looked around again. He searched both by hand and by magic until he was sure he had procured every book she had bought on her own that didn't belong to Draco.

Starting off with the most likely place he would find Basilisk venom (Magical Beast Saliva and How it Can Help You) he worked his way through the books. When he finally found it, a potion that called for copious amounts of Basilisk venom he nearly dropped the book.

The potion was for killing people or powerfully strong magical objects. Knowing that Hermione had no intention of killing anyone (except possibly the Dark Lord, and he could not be killed as something as simple as poison), he skimmed the exceptionally short list of items that the potion was meant to destroy. His eyes settled on one in particular that stood out from the rest. Horcrux.

What was Hermione Granger's biggest goal?

What was she always trying to do?

What was she working on with Harry and Ron?

Kill Voldemort. But what if, what if he couldn't be killed because he wasn't only in one place at a time? What if somehow Scarhead had figured out that Voldemort made a fucking bloody horcrux? Of course Granger would keep doing her damndest to help destroy it. She was going to brew the fucking potion to kill Voldemort's horcrux in Draco's flat.

That was when everything hit Draco like a ton of bricks. There really was hope that Scarhead could pull this off. If the Dark Lord had a horcrux, and Scarhead found it and killed it, Voldemort could be killed. It wasn't just a far off fanciful dream anymore. Draco really could help save the world. When Hermione had said that to him before, he hadn't believed her, and he hadn't realized how he could help. But now he knew.

There were only three, and four including Draco, people on the planet that knew Voldemort had a horcrux. And the most brilliant one was currently at Draco's mercy. Simply by letting Granger live, he was helping save the world. By keeping her safe and healthy and giving her a safe place to plot, he was helping to lead the revolution against Voldemort.

…..

A/N: Well, what's Draco going to do about that? I'm excited to write the next few chapters, so I hope you're excited to read them! :D