ok, here we go again! im glad youre all so intrigued by my story, i can't tell you how flattered i am :) the story is definitely starting to get a move on now, which you will see when you read on...

just in reply to what xcheerios said: hehe yes, in that last chapter i was thinking of beauty and the beast a little bit, especially when draco was yelling at her! thats so funny that you thought of it as well!

i wont delay you anymore...enjoy :)

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One Month Later

Hermione didn't see a single Malfoy for the next month and was beginning to settle down into the routine of the kitchen, almost enjoying herself now that she was Malfoy-free. She had no doubt that Malfoy was avoiding her, too ashamed to show his face…funny how the tables can turn.

She had thought relentlessly about what she had seen. Unable to get the image of that tear rolling down his face, Hermione had come up with a hundred different scenarios to explain it. Had daddy told him he didn't love him? Highly unlikely, because surely Malfoy realised that his father was incapable of love for anybody but himself.

No, what Hermione thought was much more likely was that he and Seamus had finally put to action that secret little mission of theirs, and something must have gone wrong. That had to be it. And that's why he hadn't called her to his room after that night…they were out torturing muggles, killing wizards.

She still couldn't believe it though - Malfoy, crying? It just wasn't right. The man who had inflicted so much pain on her without so much as batting an eyelid. The man who had taken away her dignity in more ways than one. The man who was right in Voldemort's inner circle, who practically owned the world. It just didn't add up.

Hermione tried not to ponder too much on his strange behaviour - she was just happy that she had managed to get away from what she had witnessed without so much as a scratch. The next day she had hidden in the garden, worried that he would kill her for what she walked in on. But it seemed that Malfoy was too ashamed, too embarrassed, to want to see her again.

This suited Hermione fine, though. A month had passed since the incident and although she still felt dirty inside when she thought about what he'd done to her, she was beginning to feel lighter by the days. If this is how the rest of her life would be - cooking and cleaning and planting beautiful flowers with at least some friendly company - then she was luckier than any of her remaining friends.

While the house elves were very kind and helpful, Hermione still missed Lavender and the other girls. She wondered how they were going, if any of them had been taken like she had, and if Lavender had found a new way to get to sleep in the absence of Hermione's back rubs. Hermione could still remember that first day at the camps when she had truly thought that she wouldn't make it through the day…

--

Don't forget - you're our property now.

This was carved into stone at the entrance to the camps. Hermione watched it looming closer as she was marched up the driveway with a whole collection of witches she had never seen before, but all looking just as frightened as she felt.

Without so much as a word, the terrified witches were grabbed by rough looking men wearing dark hoods and dragged off to different campsites. The man that took Hermione was brutal, his fingers leaving bruises on her arm for days afterwards as he pulled her right to the end of the long line of camps, pushing her to the ground.

'Hermione?' Hermione jumped, the noise of speech startling her after so much silence, and turned to see Lavender Brown coiled on the ground nearby. Lavender staggered to her feet and made her way towards Hermione as if she was a ghost. Once both girls had decided that this was real, that the other wasn't about to disappear before their eyes and take away one more sliver of hope, they made their way forwards, not daring to believe their eyes. They hugged each other and in the curtain of hair they cried unashamedly.

'I thought you were dead,' Lavender whispered.

'I'm the only one.'

'Parvati?' Hermione shook her head. 'Neville? Ginny? Dean? Seamus?'

'All dead,' Hermione whispered, her voice barely working. Every name felt like a knife wound to the heart.

'And Harry?' Lavender asked gently. Hermione looked away before answering.

'He ran away from his aunt's house. Voldemort caught up with him.'

'Why did he run away?' Hermione shrugged, the memories still too fresh to give too much thought to.

'Driven mad by grief. Maybe just a build up over the years of everything…'

'Maybe it was just waiting to happen…'

'Maybe. Lavender, let's not talk about him -' but Lavender had broken down already.

'Oh, Harry…' Lavender sobbed, collapsing back onto the ground. Hermione followed her as if in a daze. The tears weren't coming yet. They would. But not yet.

'What happened, Hermione?' Lavender whimpered, clinging to her hand desperately. Somewhere deep inside both girls they dimly registered that from now on they were the only family they had left. As Hermione gazed around the camp, taking in the defeated faces of the women nearby, each as alone as the next, Hermione sighed.

'Hell happened, Lavender,' she said finally. And it was the truth - for as she looked around, seeing nothing but grey and wet, Hermione really believed that hell had opened up for them.

--

While Hermione was now eating and bathing regularly (though still in the sinks, regrettably), she missed the outdoors. She barely had reason anymore to venture into the rest of the house, and no sunlight reached the gloomy kitchen. On occasion, she slipped out into the garden, figuring that as long as she was doing something - pruning, for instance - nobody would stop her. However, she was still careful to avoid the Malfoy's and any of their guests at all costs. She was no more eager to see Malfoy again than he was to see her.

It wasn't until another week had almost slipped by that Hermione's bell finally rang for - who else? - Draco. As far as she could tell, Lucius was permanently away on business and Narcissa was too busy sleeping around with her son's friends to have need of her.

As the bell rang, chilling her to the bone, Hermione felt her old fear creeping back. It was amazing that that's all it took - one more ring, and she was right back where she started. Scared as shit, with no choice but to obey.

With a heavy heart and apprehension, Hermione made her way up to the third floor that night. What had kept her away for so long? Had Malfoy gotten over his embarrassment? Why now?

She knocked on the door, quietly this time, and when the doors slid open she walked into the familiar room. The lights were so dim she could barely see, but Malfoy's voice floated out of the darkness towards her. He sounded as he usually did - cold and sneering. But what had she expected, to find him snivelling and moaning with a box of tissues?

'There's a blindfold at your feet,' he said. Hermione felt around with her foot and found it - it was black and silky, incredibly soft between her rough, dirty fingers.

'Put it on.'

Hesitating, Hermione reached up and tied it around her eyes as loosely as she dared. Immediately everything went dark - she couldn't see a thing.

What is going on? What the hell is he doing?

'Come here,' Malfoy commanded, and Hermione took a small step forward feeling very disorientated. She stopped when she heard rustling nearby that sounded suspiciously like clothes being removed - oh no, not that again-

'I want a foot massage, a good one.' Malfoy had merely removed his shoe.

Hermione raised her eyebrows beneath the blindfold. That's it?

'Now, mudblood.' Hermione knelt down onto the cold floor and he stuck his foot out towards her. She caught it and was surprised by its warmth. Slowly, she began to rub it as best as she could, thankful that it didn't smell.

Malfoy was silent as she worked and Hermione wondered what he was doing. Why was she wearing a blindfold? Was Malfoy really that ashamed of what she'd seen that he couldn't bear for her to look at him? That was the only reason Hermione could think of as to why she was sitting there, blind.

After a while he thrust his other foot at her and she took this one instead, working away for what felt like hours. When her hands were so tired she thought they would drop off, Malfoy's foot recoiled and Hermione sat on the floor, wondering what was coming. But nothing happened, and Hermione raised her face, unseeing, towards him.

'Malfoy?' she asked uncertainly. What was he doing? The silence was creepier than his voice, however mean he was to her.

'What?' he snapped at her. Hermione heard him get to his feet and walk away - probably getting himself another drink. And sure enough, she heard the familiar sound of the whiskey being poured into its glass, then silence as Malfoy drank deeply. When he finished, he said nothing.

'Why am I here?' Hermione asked in annoyance. If he was going to call her to his room in the middle of the night, he better have a reason. Her month away from him had definitely brought back some of her old courage. Somehow, after what she now knew, he didn't seem as frightening anymore.

'You're here because I ordered you to be,' Malfoy said calmly, pouring another glass.

'But -' Hermione began, but Malfoy clearly wasn't listening as she heard the doors to the balcony open and his footsteps faded from her ears. She sat uncertainly before his voice called out to her.

'Get out here, mudblood!' he barked impatiently. Getting to her feet, Hermione felt her way across the room. Before she reached the door, Malfoy called again, 'And bring the whiskey!'

Sighing, Hermione turned and felt her way towards the liquor cabinet, picking up the heavy bottle and shuffling outside. She felt Malfoy snatch it from her hands and she stood, waiting for her next order. None came, however, so she simply stood, listening to Malfoy pour himself drink after drink.

Great, Hermione thought, he'll be drunk soon…

For the third time, Hermione considered cracking the bottle of whiskey over his head and making a run for it. But what good was that - the doors were closed, and she couldn't touch his wand… besides, as much as she hated to admit it, the manor was a lot comfier than the camps, and that's where she'd be heading if she ever left this place. She had nowhere else to go, no family except for Lavender.

'Mudblood!' Malfoy suddenly snapped at her. She shook her head to clear it of bottle-breaking thoughts and looked around in irritation.

'What?'

'Tell me a story.' Another weird order. Hermione wondered exactly how much he'd had to drink as she raked her brain for something to tell him.

'Once upon a time-' she started, but Malfoy cut her off.

'No, you idiot. Something real.'

Hermione stared at what she thought was him through the black fabric, mystified. What had gotten in to him? This definitely could not be classified as normal Malfoy behaviour - Hermione would almost prefer the insults and the whip to this person. It was too weird, too new to her. And after everything she'd been through, Hermione couldn't take much more new stuff. One person can only handle so much weird shit before they break.

What is wrong with you? she wanted to say.

'About what?' is all she said. Malfoy paused. He didn't seem to notice her rudeness, luckily for her.

'Tell me about you parents.'

Hermione appraised him suspiciously, but there had been no trace of a sneer in his voice. She sighed and felt her way over to a seat. He didn't seem to be preparing to hurt her, so she was safe for now. Safe from everything but herself - she would just have to block out her own words.

'Well, I suppose you know that they're dead.'

Hermione had no idea why she was telling him this. Maybe it was the blindfold - the darkness made it easier. It almost made it not real. 'They were dentists, though. That means they look after people's mouths,' she added, when Malfoy was silent.

'Tell me about your father,' he said quietly. Hermione thought hard.

'My father? He…he was lovely.' Hermione smiled as she remembered him. He was the kindest man she ever knew, his dazzling smile almost never left his face. He had called her his little magic maker, and every summer when she returned home he had new, crazy magic tricks to show her. The blue flames in the pot had been one of his many ways of trying to keep up with the daughter he loved more than anything.

'How did he treat you?' Hermione's brow furrowed at Malfoy's question.

'What do you mean?'

'I mean,' said Malfoy impatiently, 'What was he like with you?' Hermione frowned.

'He didn't hit me or anything, if that's what you m-'

'No! I mean, what did you talk about with him?' Malfoy's tone was becoming snappy.

'I don't know, everything,' Hermione said exasperatedly.

'Your grades?'

'I guess, yes.'

'Magic?

'All the time.'

'Friends?' Hermione felt her stomach drop. If he said anything about them she didn't think she could stop herself from cracking that damned whiskey bottle over his head.

'Yes, but I don't want to talk about th -' Malfoy barely seemed to be listening to her.

'Your future? Your plans?' he pressed on.

'I guess…'

'You guess?'

'I don't know.'

'What do you mean you don't know?' he sounded disbelieving.

'I don't remember, okay!' Hermione stood angrily, not wanting to talk about this anymore. It was too painful, even in the darkness. 'Why do you want to know, anyway?'

'I didn't ask you to question me, mudblood,' she had pushed him too far this time. Hermione heard him get to his feet as well several feet away from her, his voice rising. Hermione knew she should stop talking now, but her insides were spurring her on and she went on without pausing to think.

'Just because you have a completely dysfunctional, unrequited love thing going on with your dad -'

'What did you say to me?' Malfoy's voice was a deadly whisper, but Hermione plunged on recklessly.

'Oh, come on, as if the whole world doesn't know how fucked up your family is!'

'Say that again,' Malfoy said in the same deadly voice.

'Your dad's not even half of it, you're just so stupid to realise what's going on in your own house!'

'What the fuck are you talking about mudblood?'

'Maybe I shouldn't say, mummy's secrets might scare poor little baby Malfoy!' Hermione felt as if she was watching herself from above, this strange, angry girl who couldn't seem to shut her mouth.

'You dare mock me?' Malfoy whispered.

'Oh, I dare alright. I have a spine, unlike you!'

'How dare -'

'You're such a fucking coward, Malfoy, and you know it!'

There was a moment's silence, and then -

'Shut up, you filthy bitch,' Malfoy said quietly, his voice poisonous. But Hermione wasn't done yet.

'Crying because Daddy doesn't love you-'

'Shut up-'

'Now you can't even look at me, can y-'

'Shut your fucking mou-'

'You're nothing but a sick, dirty cowa-'

'SHUT UP!' Malfoy roared. Reaching out, he ripped the blindfold off her face and Hermione blinked at the sudden light. Malfoy stood close to her, breathing hard, his face furious. But Hermione wasn't scared, and as she looked into his eyes she felt like she was only just really seeing him for the first time.

His hair was a mess, sticking all over the place. His teeth weren't nearly as pointy as she had imagined them to be. And his eyes…there was a flicker of something in between the empty grey that she had never noticed before. What was it?

Malfoy stared back at Hermione, his fury subsiding. Her eyes were boring into him, he couldn't stand it. She looked almost…concerned? No, curious… she was biting her bottom lip anxiously, causing it to become fuller and redder. Her cheeks were slightly pink from yelling, and her deep chestnut eyes, staring at him, were glowing with something he didn't understand.

'I'll show you coward,' he growled, his voice suddenly low and gruff.

And with one stride he had closed the gap between them and grabbed her around the neck, crashing his lips down upon hers. Hermione was caught completely by surprise, her eyes still open as she stared at him. But then she let them close and leaned back into the kiss, the first she'd felt in years. Why she didn't push him off, she didn't know.

His lips were rough and hard, working against hers furiously. Hers were soft and untouched, perfect for the taking. Malfoy deepened the kiss, his hands finding her waist and encircling her. Hermione, who had been gripping his arms, slid her fingers gently along his skin until he moaned against her mouth. He backed her against the railing and Hermione jumped as the cold bars touched her skin. Seeming to come to her senses, she pulled back and stared up at Malfoy in alarm. He looked back at her, looking just as bewildered.

What just happened?

Wrenching her eyes from his gaze, Hermione stumbled back inside and made for the door. It slid open for her when she reached it, and Malfoy made no move to stop her.

It had been her eyes. They had hypnotised him. Her taunts were ringing in his ears, just daring him to do something. So he had. She had more than hit a nerve - she had pulled out a part of him that he barely remembered he had. The kiss had been completely by accident - it was her eyes…

But as for her... well, Malfoy had no idea why she had kissed him back.

--

ooooooooo!! very very interesting! even i want to know what happens next and i already know, hehe. what did you guys think?? not too cliche or un-hermione-like?

!! ATTENTION: i was just wondering if somebody could please tell me if they recieved their alert for this chappy because my account seems to be acting funny and i don't think it's sent out alerts for my latest updates. id be really grateful if someone would just let me know if they got an alert for this chappy !!