Author's Note: I said I'd post it soon, but I didn't think it would be this soon. Oh well though, I couldn't wait. So here's the next chapter! I'm really curious to see what you guys think so please, please, please stick it out to the end of the chapter and leave a review!

IX. Blurred Lines

Hermione brought Blaise back to the same alley near the Muggle entrance to the Ministry. He fell to the floor heavily, and she immediately dropped to her knees, trying to wake him up.

"Come on, Blaise, wake up!"

His eyes opened and slowly focused on her.

"Are you okay?"

Blaise groaned. "What the bloody hell did you give me to drink?"

Hermione shook her head. "I have no idea. How do you feel?"

He coughed and tried to sit up. "Like hell."

Hermione reached out and supported him, helping him into a sitting position. She was surprised by how weak he seemed.

"Did you have to drink any of that nasty stuff this time?" he asked.

"No."

Blaise sighed. "Lucky." He looked around. "Why are we… here?"

"Voldemort told me to take you back," said Hermione. "Do you feel any different from before?"

Blaise shook his head. "Nope. Stop being so worried all the time. What'd I tell you about strokes?"

Hermione managed a weak smile. She really wanted to know what potion she'd had to give him. Voldemort had said something about making the connection permanent…

"That smile is not convincing at all, Master."

Hermione froze. "What did you just call me?"

"I…" he began matter-of-factly. Then he seemed to remember the word that had come out of his mouth, and his expression changed drastically. "Aw, bloody hell. What now?"

"I guess—I'll just give you an order. Call me Hermione, or Granger, not master."

"They're sick," said Blaise, going on as though he hadn't heard her. "I can't believe—how could they—aw, fuck. Just kill me now."

"Don't say that," she said sternly. "Do you know what the potion was?"

"Yeah, now I do! Fuck!"

"Please, stop cursing. It's not helping."

Blaise groaned. "Nothing's going to help."

"Well… at least explain. There's an antidote to every potion, isn't there?"

"If it's the potion I'm thinking of, then I'm not gonna be able to get an antidote. Was it silver?"

"Yes. I was told to put a drop of my blood in it."

Blaise mouthed an expletive, and he glared at her when no sound came out.

"Honestly, how will cursing make you feel better?"

"It just does, don't ask me how!"

Hermione sighed. "Just explain, Blaise."

He glared at her, but words came tumbling out of his mouth against his will. "That potion is ancient, part of the Malfoy family tradition. No one outside the family knows what the ingredients are—all I know is that they're extremely rare. Priceless, even. They used it centuries ago to bind especially disobedient slaves."

Hermione flinched at his last word and said, "How do you know?"

"Draco said so. I thought he was yanking my chain, but turns out he was telling the truth." He looked resigned now.

"Blaise… I'm so sorry. I was going to refuse, but—"

"I'm not mad at you. I know there was nothing you could have done." He sighed. "I don't think there's a way out of this, not without going to someone in the family. And I don't think the Dark Lord would approve of that."

Hermione looked down. It was like a higher power was messing with her. She'd always been against forced labor. She was one of the only people who thought house elves deserved rights, for goodness' sake! But through some sick twist of fate, she'd become a slave owner who didn't even have the ability to free her slave. Then she realized that this must have been Voldemort's intention. He was trying to erase her morality, to wipe away any decency in her. She had now tortured, killed, and enslaved people. Merlin… what was she turning into?

Blaise's hand rested over hers, and she was surprised by how gentle his touch was.

"Hermione, don't feel so guilty," he said.

Her head jerked up, but when her eyes met with his brown ones, she relaxed and looked back down at their hands. For a second, she'd thought she heard Draco's voice come out of his mouth. God, she was losing her mind.

If he noticed her strange reaction, he chose not to acknowledge it. He continued, "If they didn't pick you, I would probably have been a lot worse off. Imagine if I'd been bound to Bellatrix. I think I'd probably try to commit suicide before taking her orders. This really isn't your fault."

She looked up at him. "Is this the potion talking?"

"No, it's me."

Hermione sighed. "You probably wouldn't be able to tell the difference either way."

"Of course I can tell," said Blaise, frowning. "I've been enslaved, not brainwashed."

Hearing the word "enslaved" spoken aloud set Hermione off, and she got to her feet. Blaise, who seemed to have recovered considerably, stood up beside her.

"Let's go do our job," she said.

"What's the point? We all know no one will be coming out this hour."

"Just come."

Blaise shook his head but followed her as they left the alley and crossed the street to a small café. They sat at one of the outside tables, and soon a waitress came to take their orders. Hermione politely declined, and Blaise ordered a vanilla latte.

Hermione was reminded of a very short, risky date with Draco a few months ago…

She linked arms with Draco, huddling close to his side as the wind blew, giving her the chills. They were near their flat in Muggle London, strolling down the street. The sun was about to set, and the sky was beautiful, colored with splashes of pink, purple, and blue.

That afternoon, she'd slipped some Sleeping Potion into Harry and Ron's drinks; after destroying the locket, they were still struggling to find out what was to be done next. None of them slept well at night, and she figured that a Sleeping Potion would give them some rest, and allow her some time to spend with her dear beloved.

She'd Apparated to their flat to find him on the couch, asleep. He'd gotten there a few days ago and waited patiently until she had a chance to join him.

After catching up a bit, they had agreed to go on a walk together. If they got caught, then as Draco said, the world could go to hell. He would take her away, and they would spend their lives as fugitives if it meant they would never have to part with each other again.

They sat down at a small café, and Draco picked up the menu.

"I have no idea what any of this is," he confessed.

Hermione laughed. "Just pick something."

"You're not going to give me any helpful suggestions?"

She shook her head.

"Fine, let's see." He looked through the choices. "Why couldn't we have just gone to a pub? I'm more familiar with Muggle alcohol."

Hermione smiled. "I like it better when you're uncomfortable."

Suddenly she felt his hand brush her inner thigh under the table, and she jumped.

"Feeling's mutual," he said, smirking.

Hermione swatted his hand away playfully. "Aren't you supposed to be pampering your date instead of teasing her?" she huffed.

Draco's reply was cut off when a waitress approached the table.

"What can I get for you?" she asked, batting her eyelashes at Draco.

He smiled. "Vanilla latte. Small."

The waitress turned to look at a very amused Hermione.

"I'll have a hot chocolate."

The waitress turned back to Draco. "Would you like anything else?" she asked.

"No, that'll be it," he replied.

"All right, then. Well, if you need anything, just ask me."

She walked away, exaggerating the swishing motion of her hips.

"That's a pretty girl, and I think she likes you. Why don't you ask her out?" Hermione teased.

"You know, I would. But then I know there'd be this other girl that I wouldn't be able to get off my mind, and I wouldn't want to be unfaithful to that poor waitress from the very start. So it looks like I'm stuck with the one I've got."

Hermione smiled. "But she's thinking about dumping you for checking out that other girl."

"She couldn't dump me if she tried."

"Wanna bet?"

Draco leaned forward over the table, beckoning with one finger for her to lean closer too. She humored him, waiting to see what he would say. Instead of replying, he inched forward and closed the distance between them, brushing her lips with his ever so gently. He immediately backed away.

Hermione shook her head, a small smile lingering on her lips.

"Well, aren't you a tease? Come here."

She reached a hand behind his head to pull him into a longer kiss, and he didn't resist.

When they finally broke the kiss, they were both breathing hard.

"We're in public," Hermione whispered.

"Yes, I know."

"Should we go?"

"I want to."

"What about our drinks?"

"Damn the drinks. You'll be better than a vanilla latte, whatever the hell that is."

Hermione laughed at this and got to her feet. Draco left some Muggle money on the table, and they exited the café together. They held hands as they ran back to the flat, laughing the whole way as though they had not a care in the world. To the people they passed by in the street, they must have looked like such a happy young couple.

A gust of wind tugged at her cloak, and she remembered where she was.

She missed that carefree feeling. Sure, she'd still been on the quest for Horcruxes with Harry and Ron, and Voldemort was still untouchable, but Draco had been there. As long as he was around, she had hope that everything would be all right. Now that he'd gone…

Hermione glanced up to see Blaise quickly averting his eyes.

"What?" she said.

"What do you mean, what?"

"Why were you watching me?"

"I wasn't—"

"Don't lie to me."

"Fu—ah, I can't even—I hate this."

"Well?" said Hermione expectantly.

"I was watching your memory," he said, staring intently at his cup. She hadn't even noticed when his drink arrived.

Hermione frowned. "You… you can do that?"

"You didn't stop me."

"I didn't know you were there."

"Well, now you know."

"Can I get inside your head too, now?" Hermione asked. She hadn't been able to do it intentionally before, and she was curious about whether or not this ancient Malfoy concoction had given her that power.

"Probably. Don't ask me how, though—I honestly don't know."

"Then how did you—"

"I really don't know," said Blaise. "I was just looking at your face, and next thing I knew, I was watching you and Draco walk into a coffee shop."

Hermione frowned again. "You're not lying."

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Obviously."

He leaned over the table toward her, but she didn't back away. He stopped about an inch away from her face, and she suddenly had a flashback of Draco's face from the memory.

"Does it scare you?" Blaise asked in a low voice.

Hermione blinked. "What?"

"The fact that I got into your thoughts without meaning to. Does it scare you?"

"I'm not scared, I'm just worried," she said.

Blaise smirked. "Liar," he whispered.

She felt his breath on her lips and thought she'd forgotten how to breathe.

Back off.

Blaise promptly leaned back in his chair, smiling casually as he lifted the cup of coffee to take a sip.

Hermione could breathe again. Wasn't he supposed to be the one taking her orders? It seemed that despite the fact that he'd been the one… enslaved, he was still in control of the situation. She didn't like that feeling one bit.

"I think our shift is about up—let's go," she said.

"Sure," said Blaise. He finished off his coffee and put it back down on the table with a few bills.

They reached Grimmauld Place not two minutes later, and Hermione immediately headed for the kitchen, aching to avoid spending any more time alone with Blaise. She'd been so comfortable around him before, but feeling his breath on her lips… the sensation was too… did she dare say familiar? Tempting, even.

Ron was the first to greet her when she entered the kitchen.

"Hi, Hermione. Are you feeling better?"

Hermione nodded, hoping that her face didn't give anything away. If anything, she felt a lot worse than earlier. When she'd left Grimmauld Place that evening, she'd only been preoccupied with a burning left arm. Now… she didn't quite know what it was that she was dealing with.

"Luna, come on," said Neville, getting up from his seat at the table, where he'd been watching Terry and Michael play wizard's chess yet again.

"Chess again?" Hermione commented as Neville and Luna left the room for their shift.

Terry smiled grimly. "I'm actually starting to get bored. And this is my favorite game."

"There's nothing else to do in this house, unless you want to go out and play peek-a-boo with Mrs. Black," said Ron.

Blaise chuckled and sat down by Michael to watch the game.

"Where are Harry and Ginny?" asked Hermione.

"Snogging upstairs, I expect," said Michael absentmindedly. "Knight to A4."

"Tricky one, you are," said Terry.

Hermione shook her head. She still thought wizard's chess was barbaric. "Where's George, then?" she asked.

"Upstairs inventing again," said Ron. "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Makes him feel better."

She sat down on Michael's other side, where Neville had been sitting earlier. There was nothing really for her to do. It was dark already, and the potions didn't need stirring. After staring blankly at the chessboard for a few turns, she got up, announced that she was tired, and headed upstairs.

As she opened her door, hands roughly pushed her into her room, and then the door was closed. She spun around to see Ron fixing an intense gaze on her.

He flicked his wand behind him and murmured, "Muffliato."

"Ron, what are you doing?" asked Hermione, reaching for her wand.

"Expelliarmus!" Ron cried as soon as she'd grasped the handle.

Her wand flew out of her hand, and Ron snatched it out of the air. He pointed his wand at her. Hermione backed away as he stepped toward her. He'd flung her wand behind him, and she saw it clatter uselessly to the floor right by the closed door.

"Stop," she said firmly.

He continued walking toward her slowly, his wand still pointed at her chest. His face was flushed, and he looked furious, mutinous.

What had she done to him? She'd been perfectly civil lately, and she'd thought that he was acting completely normal as well.

Her back hit the wall, and she briefly considered asking Blaise for help. She immediately dismissed the notion. She felt uncomfortable enough around him as it was, without another awkward confrontation involving Ron. She could deal with this temperamental boy on her own.

"Ron, please don't—"

"Silencio."

Hermione's mouth continued to move, but no sound came out—her voice died in her throat. Ron took another step closer to her, his wand still trained on her. Would he really hurt her if she tried to get away? She glared at him; she knew she'd always been able to intimidate him with that look.

But instead of being intimidated, he looked even more infuriated than before.

"Hermione, I'm so sick of this."

Sick of what, she wanted to ask.

"I'm sick and tired of looking at you and never being able to touch you. Sometimes I feel like I can't even talk to you anymore. I really cared about you, and I thought you really cared about me. But I'm starting to think you were just leading me on—"

Leading him on? The nerve!

Hermione's hand rose of its own accord and slapped him across the face. She immediately regretted it, because with two purposeful flicks of his wand, thick ropes had captured her wrists and tugged her arms up above her head, making her feel extremely vulnerable.

She lifted her leg to kick him, but with another flick of his wand, she lost control over her limbs. He stowed his wand back within his robes, his blue eyes boring into her brown ones. She turned her head away, refusing to look at him. He gripped her chin tightly and jerked her head back to face him.

Let go, let go, let go! She was screaming inside her head, but she couldn't break the Silencing Charm.

His lips pressed against hers, and she clamped her mouth shut. His hands glided down her back and squeezed her bottom lightly. If she could just make a sound… but that'd be useless! He'd used Muffliato already—no one would be able to hear her.

She managed to jerk her head to the side, and he dragged his lips along her jaw to her neck. She didn't feel anything but disgust and wished she could push him away. Her arms and legs wouldn't respond to her commands.

Then she felt his hands slide under her shirt and run up her front, stopping just below her bra. They slid around to her back to fumble with the clasp as he started to suck on her neck, and she'd never felt so violated.

No, no, no, no, no. She'd sooner accept having to handle unpleasantness with Blaise than allow Ron to have his way with her.

But before she'd had time to send the command, the lock clicked, and the door was pushed open.

Ron spun around, reaching for his wand, but a jet of red light hit him in the chest before he'd even grasped the handle.

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Blaise coming toward her.

"Sorry. I should have come sooner—I thought you'd be upset if you knew I was intruding on your emotions again."

He stopped in front of Ron and looked at her, puzzled by how quiet she was.

I've been Silenced, you dolt. Will you help me or not?

Blaise chuckled. I'm perfectly content watching you hang, actually. Seeing you in this position is very pleasing to the eye.

Let me down!

"All right, all right, I'm coming," said Blaise with an evil grin.

He stepped over Ron and reached up to manually untie the ropes around her wrists. In order to see the knot clearly, he had to step closer to her, pressing against her. She squirmed uncomfortably.

"My, my, these are bound very tightly," he commented.

Why can't you just use your wand? Hermione demanded.

What's the fun in that?

Let me down now, you pervert!

Fine.

Blaise waved his wand, and she regained her ability to move her limbs. The ropes disappeared, and she rubbed her wrists, then wiped his spit away from her lips and neck, disgusted.

"Can't believe the Weasel would actually try to force himself on you. Are you going to tell the others?"

Hermione shook her head and started to speak, only to find that she still didn't have her voice. She looked at Blaise, exasperated, and he waved his wand again.

"Finally. No, I won't tell the others. No harm done."

"If I hadn't come, there might have been plenty of harming."

"Well, if he had actually succeeded, of course I'd tell them. But this, I could use it as blackmail."

Blaise grinned. "Are you sure you don't belong in Slytherin?"

"Hush. Let's go—he can wake up whenever he wakes up. I'll let him try to explain what he's doing in here to Ginny or Luna." She walked past him to the doorway and picked up her wand.

"You go ahead."

Hermione noted a flicker of vengeful anger cross Blaise's expression, and she sighed.

"No. You're coming with me, and you're not going to hurt Ron."

"But he just—"

"Don't argue with me about this."

Blaise followed her out of the room, but as soon as they'd walked outside, he grabbed her by the elbow and started dragging her up the stairs. When they reached Sirius's old room on the top floor—usually everyone stayed away out of respect—he shut the door and turned around.

"That weasel was about to rape you, Hermione. I don't care if you're not going to do anything about it yourself, but you can't just tell me not to do anything."

"I can—I just did. And I thought I told you not to argue!"

"I'm not arguing, I'm just… stating my thoughts very forcefully."

"Then stop doing that. We're not going to talk about this anymore, and you are not going to hurt Ron. Don't twist my words around to find a loophole. Understand?"

I hate being your slave.

Just hearing that word again made her cringe.

"I'm sorry."

She knew her voice didn't sound apologetic at all, but she couldn't bring herself to care about Blaise's feelings. Besides, she was almost certain that he'd gone out of his way to make her uncomfortable at the café. If he'd really seen her memory, then he would have known how Draco had leaned toward her and kissed her.

His voice sounded in her head, pulling her out of her thoughts.

Did the Dark Lord give us any new orders?

Hermione nodded. She'd almost forgotten about them completely because of how messed up she'd been about becoming a slave owner.

We have to catch Savage. He said he doesn't care if we kill him.

Perfect. I still have to get back at him…

Blaise's hand ran absentmindedly along the left side of his head, where two faint scars remained. He'd apparently hid them with some camouflaging spell the morning when Lupin had spoken to him in private, but now he didn't bother anymore—they'd faded enough so that they were hardly noticeable.

Before she knew what she was doing, Hermione had taken a step closer to him and reached up to touch the longer of the two scars. Her gaze shifted a bit to the left, and she noticed surprise in his eyes. She herself was surprised by her actions, but she didn't want to look like she wasn't in control. She gently ran her finger along the scar. He closed his eyes.

Her eyes fluttered shut too, and she let her hand slide lower so that her palm rested against his cheek. She breathed deeply and tried to feel. For the first time, she detected a fleeting sense of fear coming from him. Raw, unabated fear. What was he afraid of? But the moment had passed, and now she couldn't identify what he was feeling. Was he capable of blocking his emotions from her?

She felt him moving his head toward her—her hand followed his cheek as he leaned closer. They were both aware that she could stop him at any moment with a single thought.

But she didn't.

His lips touched down on hers, and though she inhaled sharply through her nose in surprise, she didn't force him away. She felt the pressure increase on her lips, and his tongue slid across her lower lip in a motion that was so, so familiar. She shuddered at the strong craving that consumed her—she felt like she was standing at the edge of a cliff, and this feeling was urging her to take just one last step.

Was the desire that forced her heart to pound in double-time coming from him, or herself? She'd lost sense of where he ended and where she began.

Her lips parted, and his tongue slipped into her mouth. Her breath hitched in her throat as a thrill ran through her and warmth swelled in her belly, a familiar sensation that she hadn't felt since… since the last time she'd been with Draco.

No… no one other than Draco could make her feel this way.

She pressed at his chest with her free hand, and he backed up. Part of her protested her decision, lamenting the loss of contact between them.

"Hermione…" he said quietly, pressing his forehead against hers. She didn't respond, and he continued, "you know how we can feel each other's emotions?"

Hermione nodded, her eyes still closed, her breathing returning to normal. Somehow she knew, without opening her eyes, that his eyes were still closed as well.

"I want you to think about something."

"Okay."

"Imagine… how amazing sex would be."

Hermione's eyes snapped open, and she blinked a few times. His expression was very serene, and he slowly opened his dark brown eyes to look at her. Her right hand, which had slid around to grip the back of his neck during their kiss, wouldn't respond to her own command to release him.

"You're joking," she managed to choke out.

Blaise shook his head, his eyes never leaving hers. "No. I'm absolutely serious. Just think about it."

She finally pulled her disobedient hand back and took a step backwards, away from him. "Let's get one thing straight here, Blaise. I am never, ever going to sleep with you."

He didn't look deterred in the least. "Why the bloody hell not? You're single, I'm single, we're both consenting adults—"

"I haven't consented to anything," said Hermione, finally regaining some control over herself and her situation. She still didn't know what had come over her—why had she let him…? "Besides, isn't having sex with your best friend's girlfriend supposed to be a big no-no for you men?"

"Draco and I were close. And he did tell me to take care of you."

"I'm sure he didn't mean it in a sexual way, Blaise."

"Oh, come on."

"I don't care how close you were to Draco. There is no fucking way that anyone, and I mean anyone, will ever replace him," she stated with finality.

Blaise was silent, and Hermione closed her eyes again to get a better sense of what he was feeling so that she could prepare herself for his response. She couldn't distinguish anything except a strange… satisfaction?

She opened her eyes, frowning. "Blaise… was that a test?"

He just smiled.

Author's Note: What do you think? I must know. Therefore, REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW :)