"He doesn't know he has it, but the prick accidentally took it when they were raiding the manor. I know he has them in his trunk."

"What do you want with them anyway?" Malfoy grinned.

"Salazar wasn't the only one with a creature," he murmured. He stood and walked to the door. "You didn't think that the mudblood didn't have a real purpose, did you?"

Malfoy watched as Hermione sat down on the couch, eyes trained straight ahead. One of the boys who had been present at the fight walked over to Malfoy and told him what had happened. A smile appeared on his features as Oliver entered, followed by Blaise and Pansy Parkinson. Noticing Oliver, Hermione stood and marched over to him, her hand connecting with his face.

"Bastard," she hissed. His hand came much harder and much faster, knocking her off her feet. He leaned down to her.

"If you do that again, I'll kill your mother," he said in a deadly calm voice. Straightening up, he walked over to Malfoy, leaving Hermione on the floor in tears. Pansy was currently occupying Malfoy with her lips. Oliver rolled his eyes and grabbed her hair, pulling her off. She screamed at him, but he ignored her, sitting down in a chair beside Malfoy.

"What is it that you want her to do now?" he asked quietly. Malfoy took out a piece of parchment and handed it to Oliver. Oliver read it silently then looked up.

"So soon?" he asked. Malfoy nodded.

"The first match is in four days. I need her to get it for me and I know he has it. Anyway… putting him in the hospital is just an added bonus," he explained lazily, eyes on a cute little fifth year that had just entered. Oliver smiled, turning his gaze on Hermione, who had gotten up off the floor and was sitting in the corner, eyes on her hands. Malfoy glanced between Oliver and her and rolled his eyes.

"You're not going to do it are you?"

"Do what?"

"Bed the mudblood."

Oliver grinned.

"I might, she has no choice in the matter. Plus, you must admit Draco, from the pictures I've seen of her, she's certainly filled out nicely," he said waggling his eyebrows. Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"I wouldn't do it," he muttered. Oliver laughed.

"Draco, you'd shag anything with a pulse," he remarked. Malfoy glared at him.

"I don't shag mudbloods," he hissed. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to gouge my eyes out. You've just given me disturbing images," he muttered, getting up and crossing over to the fifth year. He leaned over and whispered something into her ear, taking her arm. She grinned and followed him up the stairs. Oliver shook his head, getting up and walking over to Hermione. She glanced up and then looked away. He reached over and ran a hand down her face. She turned her head away. He smiled.

"You've got your next job, Granger," he said, handing her the parchment. She looked down at it and reluctantly took it. Her eyes went over it and then she shook her head, tears spilling out of her eyes again. She dropped the paper.

"No," she said.

"You don't have a choice," he told her. She glared at him.

"I'm not doing it," she retorted. He grabbed her by the throat, yanking her up so that they were eye level. Her feet were no longer on the floor as she stared into his coal black eyes. The other occupants of the common room stopped what they were doing to watch and see what he would do to her.

"Listen to me, mudblood. I don't mind killing your parents, but I'm giving you an easy way to not see them die. Now if you want to be difficult, I'll just have to use some different forms of persuasion, none of them are pleasant," he hissed, his grip tightening on her throat. She gasped for air as she struggled to pry his hands away.

"I can't do that to him," she gasped out. Oliver grinned, pulling her face close to his.

"Then I'll break you until you can," he ground out.

The next morning Hermione woke up aching. He had tortured her all last night, using curse after curse, making her bleed and scream until she was a mess on the floor. The Slytherins in the room just watched with eagerness and shrieked with laughter when she finally broke. He let her go, crawling back to her room, sobbing and bleeding everywhere. To weak to do anything, she just lay there, curled in a ball. Hours past and finally she dragged herself out of bed. Stepping into the shower, she stood there as the scalding water flowed over her screaming skin.

How long had it been… since you've been trapped… how long has it been since you lost your soul to the devil?

How long has it been… since you've felt the loving touch of someone… a friend… a family member… Ron…

How long has it been… since you've lived?