A/N: You can all thank Erma Duncan Poly for my late update…I usually do it within a week span, but this week deemed to fly by. I hope you enjoy!!!

I looked down at my tattered ball gown. The Ball had been a disaster, and maybe a part of me knew this even before it began. I suppose I should've known things weren't going to be right as my carriage pulled up to the stairs of the Ballroom Hall, generously donated by the Malfoys themselves.

What had made me so foolish? What had made me think that I belonged with him? The truth, I didn't. And I never would. He and I were just fools to think otherwise. I did feel like a fool right about now. The mud caked onto the end hangings of my dress proved to weigh me down more than I was going to admit.

A new tear sprung to life as I looked at my frazzled appearance in a mirror on the second story of what I believed was the infamous Malfoy Manor. Or at least, that was where I heard Draco tell Nott and Crabbe to take me. My small palms clenched fistfuls of the dress in kept anger. That slimy tart. The snarky arse. That awful boyfriend.

Two Hours Earlier

Draco spun me around the dance floor with upsetting ease. Here I was trying not to trip over myself, and he was trying his hardest to get me dizzy.

'I love dancing with you.' Draco whispered into my ear as he finished twirling me and the next song began.

'Really? I'm also enjoying myself immensely.' I giggled as he brought me to him and guided my clumsy feet with such grace that I found myself slightly envious.

'Then that makes two of us.' He whispered again, making my skin crawl with arousal. He spun and held me through every beat as if there were tomorrow, and I didn't object. Who really even promised a tomorrow? No one. That was why I was with Draco. Because tomorrow was already gone.

'Dance floors are meant for socializing, not shagging.' Daphne said as Nott spun her close to our huddle in the middle of the floor. Her gown was long glittery, with matching onyx stones adoring her. She wore the dress and gave the impression that she was all too used to wearing similar apparel.

Nott wore similar dress robes to Draco's, but there was no comparing to him. Draco was beautiful in his fancy clothes, (I had never seen him any thing other than nice clothes) but he was absolutely stunning in evening wear. His platinum hair shined as the overhead lights and floating chandeliers shone down. He gave the perfect image of a man-wearing halo, but he couldn't fool me…for long.

The dress Marguerite etched and brought to life was absolutely gorgeous in my mind. Draco had complimented it many a times during the night, but I knew most of him hadn't meant half of them. Draco was the kind of guy that said, "That dress looks great on you" with a straight face. Men always went wrong with saying the wrong thing about an outfit, or dress. And still- Draco had said those small words and I could've sworn he read a hundred Shakespeare verses.

He could sell you back your own soul if he needed to. But I doubted any Malfoy would ever have to do something they didn't want to do. They were in right with money, as they were with the Ministry of Magic. Nowadays, people understood the deepening reign of the Malfoys. The Ministry was quite aware, but with all the donating Mrs. Malfoy saw to, the Ministry would only be foolish to soil the social name of Malfoy.

I became aware of Draco taking my arm and guiding me to a clothed table. At the table, I saw Astoria and a nameless boy speaking in low tones, until Daphne sidestepped her date and interrupted their conversation. 'You're from Beauxbatons, aren't you?' she pointedly stared at him as she sat across from them. Nott sighed heartedly and sat next to her with a royal 'plop'. Her younger sister sent her an irritated look, no doubt because her light was stolen.

I took the offered seat Draco held out for me. 'I am from Beauxbatons, but I am not French as you expected.' His fierce blue eyes stood out from the paleness that seemed to engulf him from under his blue dress robes. I silently scrutinized the boy from where I resided. He had neat, cleanly cut hair and a smart, concentrated look on his face. He had only spoken a few words to answer Daphne's question, but the tone he used reminded me an awful lot of Draco's. Like he owned and commanded the room, and if anyone disagreed…well, that was too bad. I wondered what a boy like this was doing as Astoria Greengrass' date. She usually went for the more lax and earthly boys.

Tilynia sat quietly at the corner of the table in her cute gown with low ruffles. Her sigh of exertion spoke of her uncomfortable sense of being, but no one seemed to care. She studied her manicured nails with pure boredom etched across her face. The touch of Draco's hand on my knee brought me back to him, where he wanted me to be. I was thankful there was a thick barrier like my dress to separate us.

'Oh…well, you look French-'

'Daphne, I'm sure no one wants to hear about Aragorn's ethnicity.' Tilynia spoke from her spot, where she looked up from her nails and down to Daphne who was a good three inches taller.

'Yeah, Daph!' Astoria looked on at me for emphasis. 'We would much rather hear about Hermione's ethnics.' Her innocent blue eyes suddenly looked deep into my soul, somewhere so deep. I felt mocked as they all allowed their curiosity to be piqued. Even Draco gave me a side along glance.

This was it. This was where I would finally realize just who I was. 'I'm from London…but my father lives in Liverpool.' They looked on expectedly at me. 'My dad is a dentist…and so is my mother.' I failed to mention how she suddenly turned her fortune by selling make-up…oh well. They didn't need to know that.

'Dentist?' Astoria's date wondered aloud. His eyes fixed on my face, as if I were a dubious suspect lurking around dark corners. 'I have never heard of such a profession.' He said finally, and decided to glare down at my date instead. But Draco didn't avert his eyes as I did to fend off any awkwardness, he merely glared back. His grip on my knee tightened considerably.

'Its uh…it's a muggle profession.' Had I not been their friend- had I not been Draco's girlfriend, they would have gasped and hidden behind their hands. Muggle. There, it was out in the open. Sure, I could've droned on about all the specifics of my muggleborn heritage. Hell, I could have even boasted about my top marks or strong alliance with the boy named Harry Potter. But this time- this turn around, I didn't feel the need to. I was muggleborn; there was no way around that fact. And it was time I allowed myself to breathe out instead of sighing in.

I let the last sentence hang in the air like a bad odor. There was no telling how they all really honestly felt inside, but I had an image. They were most likely screaming, banging against the walls of their ribcages to break free from the stench of my Mudblood scent that their new Lord lusted after.

'Muggle.' He muttered to himself before nodding curtly. His body shifted in his seat with evident hindrance. 'So that makes you a mud-'

'A muggleborn, yes. Is that an issue?' Draco's know-it-all drawl (I believed his superior voice sounded similar to my uptight one) brought each member of his ensemble at attention. When Draco got huffy, the night was over. So I knew I needed to count my marbles now.

Aragorn straightened in his seat and scowled. 'No, Mr. Malfoy. But I was under the impression that you didn't associate yourself with…her breed.' So I was a breed now? What… like a test vial in some impersonal potions project? Couldn't he have said 'race' instead?

'Aragorn…' Astoria reprimanded him.

'Surely Hermione doesn't mind. Does she?' he spoke as if I hadn't been right there across from him. And…how had he known my name?

Draco brusquely stood from his seat and towered threateningly above Aragorn. 'I don't want to hear her name ever come from your mouth, Heilvinan.' The next few tables looked around curiously. Their eyes held Draco where he nearly screamed down at the man.

'Keep your emotions under control, Malfoy.' He spat the name out as if it were a bad taste. 'You are very well known for handling yourself. Yet one little girl, a Mudblood no less, comes along and suddenly you're a changed man.' I glared at Aragorn. First, he called me a Mudblood. And secondly, he offended Draco.

But what he said is true. Draco did change. Maybe he didn't exactly do it for you, but you indirectly nonetheless received the winnings.

At what cost, I suddenly thought. Draco still stood angrily, making an utter fool of himself as he glowered down. Daphne, Nott, Tilynia, and Astoria followed suit, but chose to sit. I then noticed that they were all purebloods. Well, of course, I knew along. But now, it really stood out from all the other differences. I had just then realized myself. They were sweet enough to me, but it wasn't real. No, they just played along for Draco. Their lord. Their savior.

What Draco called himself was real. He really was their all. It wasn't because they loved him; it was because he loved them. He loved what they could give him, not what he could give them. They exerted generous amounts of attention, and obedience.

I tilted my head in private thought. That was it. That was the secret of a truly successful Malfoy.

*Flashback*

'So…' I snuggled closer to Draco as we sat against the edge of my couch and sipped the special Elf Wine he brought for what he called 'the day after your birthday' party. I loved the night and its specialties, not just because he gave me undivided attention, but because he went out of his way when doing anything that night. 'What's the secret to being a Malfoy?'

He looked over his wine glass at me and smirked. 'A bad one or good one?'

'I don't know. Tell me the difference.' I smirked mischievously, to which he pulled me over to sit on his lap.

'Real witty, pet.' He smothered his cheek in the nape of my neck. 'There is no real rule book. Just wise guidelines we're meant to follow.'

I leaned backward to allow him more access to my neck and shuddered. 'So there are secrets?'

He nipped my shoulder. 'My foolishly pretty pet.' He kneaded his forehead into my skin.

'Okay…I'm just saying, avoidance is the worst form of a reply…' I smiled as he kissed the skin of my neck and drug his teeth across.

Draco allowed a silence to come over. The only sounds that could be heard were Draco's mouth devouring what he claimed as his every opportunity he had. 'Draco?'

'Hmm?' was his response.

I slipped my fingers into the spaces between his fingers and held his hands so that his arms encircled me. 'Tell me something about you.'

'My name is Draco.' I smacked my tongue against the roof of my mouth.

'Draco… I meant tell me something I don't know about you.'

He paused in his pleasure-giving quest before speaking and continuing on with his expert work. 'I live in Wiltshire.'

I nodded thoughtfully. 'Is that where Malfoy Manor is? Blaise said his home is in Rome, but his mum lived in Austria I think. Two homes…honestly…' I muttered under my breath.

'Is it so uncommon? You said yourself you had two homes, very much apart from each other.'

I shook my head. 'My father lives in Liverpool. I live with my mum in London.'

He turned me toward him so that I was straddling his waist. 'That's how it often was when…things were different. Father often stayed in Malfoy Manor and mother lived in her summer home in France. She loved our villa in Rome as much as Mrs. Montenello loves hers in Vienna.'

'Who's Mrs. Montenello?'

'Blaise's mother. She was married to the late Arteries Montenello.' I nodded in understanding and held my tongue. By what I heard about that woman, I didn't like her.

'I know what you're thinking, pet.' He pressed our foreheads together, as if to make some kind of physical connection. 'The woman isn't evil, I promise you. She's just not the motherly type.' He smiled, as if reading my next thought. 'No Hermione, I don't really know if she murdered her husbands. There are an infinite amount of scenarios on which to base the blame on their 'mysterious deaths'.' He hesitated for a moment, as if he weren't sure if he wanted to go on. 'Mother was talking to me once about Blaise…she said his father was Mrs. Montenello's fourth husband, Felix Zabinato.'

My eyes widened considerably and I tensed in his arms. I moved from his lap to the ground again and looked on at him. 'But his last name is Zabini.'

'Because Mrs. Montenello wanted to keep Blaise out of Felix's shadow.'

'But…but, Blaise doesn't know anything! Why haven't you told him?'

'Hermione, some things are better unknown.' My happiness died down as I stared.

'This is his father we're talking about! An unknown father! An unknown heritage! You must tell him!' my voice grew higher with each sentence.

'I won't.' he shook his head with emphasis. 'And neither will you.'

'Why not? What's so wrong in telling your best friend something he's been dying to know his whole life?'

'Can we drop it, Hermione? I don't wish to speak about it.' His upper lip tightened as he looked down at his sprawled fingers.

I glared defiantly. How dare he just shut me off? That was definitely the major draw back with Draco. If he had something on or over you, he wasn't modest about dangling it right in front of you. 'Okay, but you have to tell me another detail about you.'

His body relaxed as he thought about what to say next. His shoulders were still squared off as his back slouched against the red velvet sofa behind him and me. 'I am named after my great, great-grandfather, Draconis.'

I took his palm into my hand and traced circles on it. 'What is your middle name?'

'It is custom in to give your son a middle name by using their father's birth name.'

I tilted my head and peered up at him. His flawless face and perfect features were etched into my head. The picture of him talking softly with me by a cozy fire with raging weather outside would always stay with me wherever I went. 'Draco Lucius Malfoy.' I tested out the name. My nose crinkled in disapproval. 'I think Draco Abraxsas Malfoy has a ring to it.'

'Ah…Abraxsas…he was my favorite grandfather.' His eyes glazed over fondly. 'I loved him dearly. There were nights when he would visit the Manor, since the Manor was passed down to the next generation, and I wouldn't leave his side. His cane- that phoenix cane was forever embedded in my memory. He was the sun to my sky…and mother's. Father would never go against what Grandfather said, no matter what.

And then one night when I was nearly twelve, he said he had run into Potter while at a visit to Marguerite's mother's shop. We sat at the dinner table in stone silence, because father never brought up mudbloods while eating, and Potter's mum was the biggest one. There was a horrible silence…and then later they were in father's private study, just across the hall from where mother was playing her piano, and their voices carried over. I still to this very day can't remember all of what I heard. But I know now that they were arguing about blood status.

"You know not to bring up such things around Draco." To which grandfather replied, "and why not? It's not as if you haven't already manipulated Draco into living the exact way you are!" I remember straying from my mother and walking into the hall. Father screamed back another response. And that's when he did it. That was when Grandfather Abraxsas raised his cane and striked father along his face. I gasped so loudly that they turned toward me with unreadable expressions. There was shock on one face, and the slightest hint of embarrassment and loss of pride on the other.' Draco paused briefly to take in a shaky breath.

'After that, he never came to visit again. One summer later he died of old age, leaving my grandmother alone in France. Mother still visits her, but I don't go too often. She only reminds me of him.' I listened the whole time, not being in control of my emotions. I was aware tears had fallen down on my flannel pajama shirt, but there was no stopping them.

Poor Draco…he had a quick childhood, of which he grew too fast and tore himself into many different obligations. Had I or any other average witch or wizard been capable of surviving such a screwed up childhood? Everyone had problems, but not exactly to the extent of his. By telling me the story, he had opened up and proved to me that anyone was capable of adapting. His mother was different from his father, his father was different from his grandfather, and his grandfather was different from the whole lot. Who, at twelve, would've been able to keep up and understand? No one.

That's what made Draco who he was. That's what made him so different. And that's what made me stay with him. Malfoys were to be perfect; they were to be excellent at anything they did. And if they weren't, their money was.

That's what a Malfoy was. That's what it took to be a Malfoy. Twisted brilliance. If you didn't have it in you, then you didn't belong. Abraxsas didn't belong.

*End of Flashback*

When I looked back up, Aragorn had already left the table. 'Hello.' Ginny grinned down at everybody with Blaise nearly swinging on her arm. It was all too clear that he was a man in love.

'Oh, you are absolutely glowing!' Daphne leaned on her elbows that were propped on the table. 'What has Blaise slipped you?'

'Daphne put it away.' Tilynia rolled her eyes in Daphne's direction. The eldest Greengrass girl merely laughed and flipped her auburn hair back, making Theodore's mouth almost drool.

'Oh, Til, you're no fun. Lighten up.' She scrunched her nose distastefully, of which Astoria giggled behind her napkin at.

'Hermione-' Draco's sentence died at his lips as I reached over and kissed him lightly.

'Draco, I only want to enjoy my night. Will we allow that?'

He smirked regally before standing and taking my hand. 'Come.' He said simply before dragging me from the table to his preset destination. He seemed to know the grounds better than I thought. Draco wound around the couples dancing heartily to the exiting French windows where a garden was plotted out. I sighed in bliss as I let go of his hand to take off my shoes and step on the wet grass. All of the proper and prim ladies of the night hadn't dared step unto the grass in fear of soiling their feet and shoes, but what had I to lose? Well, excluding the most expensive piece of clothing I would probably ever own, nothing.

So I slipped along the cool earth and twirled many times before calling Draco to do the same. He frowned at first, probably questioning himself on why he even brought me here. There was a stoned pathway partially covered by trees not far away, which was where he had most likely planned on taking me. He should've known I always had a different plan for myself.

'Do you feel that, Draco?' I spun again on my own with my arms outstretched. The simple straps of my gown lay limply past the blades of my shoulders where they were meant to be.

'What would that be?' When I turned to him, his eyes teased.

I smiled back. 'The feel of grass under your feet when it's thirty degrees out.'

'I like to keep my shoes on.' He stated with a hint of stubbornness.

'Suit yourself. I'm only saying, Draco…it feels…' I glided to him and touched his face with a new gentleness I hadn't known was there, 'great.'

'Will you take this dance, milady?' Draco mock bowed and held out his hand for me.

I pretended to consider his offer before feigning a curtsey. 'Why of course, fine lad.' I giggled when he brought me in his arms and placed my bare feet on his. The fine material of his dragon hide soles felt good beneath my feet as he waltzed me across the lawn and flowerbeds. I didn't feel bad for ruining someone's hard work for my date did pay for them in the first place.

'Thank you for accompanying me, Hermione.' He said as he glided farther into the night.

'The pleasure is mine.' I giggled again as the music from the life inside the Hall grew loud enough so that it reached our ears.

'Draco...' I wanted to tell him how I felt. I wanted to explain how jumbled my thoughts and dreams were, but make it clear that he always had a spot. I wanted to say it. 'Draco, I l-' the night seemed dead as my breath hitched in my throat. There was no music; there was no existence. There was only him.

As I stared longer at him, I felt the same tugging feeling I felt at my birthday party. The seconds stalled between us. The image of the light smirk playing across his face and the way his eyebrows quirked innocently paused for a moment so that I could properly peer at him. Why I hadn't just said I loved him, I'll never know.

'Lord Malfoy! There's been an at-' but as Crabbe was yelling it across the lawn, a spout of a bright green light shot up from the hall's top. It flashed into the sky and scattered worm-looking objects of shadows into the sky.

There was no more horrible sound than what came next. Women's shrill screams filled the air that was just a minute ago peaceful. All I could imagine was my friends in that place, that place I had left to be with the man I …I loved.

In an instant, we had our wands drawn. He sprinted to the main doors, while I ran as fast as my dress and bare feet allowed. Inside was chaos. There weren't any dead bodies yet- just injured nameless people scattered around. Draco turned to me as we took cover behind a table turned on its side.

'Hermione, listen to me. You have to go.' I was going to retort when he silenced me with a finger to my lips. 'There are too many men out there. I promise I'll see you in just a few moments. But you can't stay here…' he looked to the door where Crabbe and Nott had just finished off a masked man. There seemed to be a whole group of them. The one thought that moved across my mind…Harry's after the biggest one in command. And I knew I was right.

'I can't leave. Harry's out there.' I went to stand, but he pushed me back down.

'You will not go anywhere near them! Theo and Vincent are going to take you to my home. And you aren't to leave anywhere, is that clear?' tears of anger shimmered in my eyes. I fought back the desire to cry. I was not a child to be instructed; I was not a doll to command. So why had I not fled to the scene where everything was going on? Why had I not run away to Harry's aide?

Because Draco forced me into Nott's arms. Because Draco thrust me aside to play hero for the night.

I tuned the pain of my feet scraping against the floor by directing my attention to the rain pelting down on mine and my escort's shoulders. It came down like bullets in a muggle war. The sky cried for me. The salty rain drops that came from my eyes mixed in with the water dropping from clouds so that it wasn't noticeable to anyone. They apparated me to Malfoy Manor as promised. But I didn't feel safe.

I felt all alone as they apparated back to where I wanted to be.

Present time

I later pondered in my steamy bath why I hadn't up and left. One, being because I wasn't suitable, and I doubted there would be ready clothes for me to be so anyway. The house elves had eagerly scuttled around me, tending to my every need and asking if I wanted more. But all I needed was a bath.

Two, being because I wanted to wait until Draco came back. I wanted to yell and scream. I wanted to tell him how unfair he had been, and how I wasn't one to be ordered like the rest of his people were.

After my much needed bath, I piled on the night gowns Tiny gave me. She sent me to a room much too plain to have belonged to anyone special. I slipped under the covers and bit my lip. Draco had said he would only be a few minutes…

Why did I hate him at a moment like this? What if he died? What if they killed him…and Harry? He would have died with me hating him!

No, Hermione! Don't think like that! You can't think like that. Not at a time like this.

Of course not. They're fine. They're just fine, and they're going to be alright. I silently muttered verses from my Grade 7 Potions book as I turned out the candles with a wave of my wand. '…gently drop in the pixie wing only after you have dropped the werewolf's fang in thirty minutes before. Stir counterclockwise for approximately ten minutes…'

So, my date had to end short. The fun-filled night I was promised had been stolen from me. I was fine with it… with it all.

After repeating known verses from my Charm's book, I fell asleep with unsettling nightmares. Peace finally found me a few hours before day beak as I laid on my back and sighed up to the ceilings done up in silver.

When I awoke the next morning, a man with silvery blonde hair was curled up in a lazy chair not far from my side of the bed. A short blanket was thrown over his lean body, and his chest heaved up and down with effort. Draco's face had cuts and slashes scattered all around. The one most noticeable was above his right eyebrow, exactly where I was fond of kissing him most.

I thought of saying something to him, but I was afraid it would wake him. Seeing him sleeping and settling into a place of vulnerability almost made all of my anger for him disappear. Seeing his face and body the way it was now, I knew I wouldn't be able to hold any bad feelings for long. I was a sucker for him. Irrevocably.

I sat up in bed and stretched my weary bones with hindrance. I looked back at him to see his granite eyes staring right back at me.

A/N: Thanks so much for reading! Please review if you liked, loved, hated, etc. Can't promise when the next update is coming, but I promise I won't make you all wait toooo long.