Chapter 10

Hermione woke up just before dawn, with her mind going 'Ahem'. The knowledge that she had sex with Draco during the night took her breath away for a moment, while she felt all manners of cringe-worthy emotions. He was still asleep next to her, lying on his stomach facing away from her. She wanted to hit him, but knew it would be completely unfair, because she had done it, she had initiated it. She had needed it.

It might have been brought on by the dream, but she knew damned well it was him, no matter what excuse her mind was telling her at the time. She completely and utterly used him. Not that it makes up for each and every time he's used her. She still couldn't understand why it had happened. She had been a completely asexual creature for ..., well since Ron was alive. She hadn't felt a twinge of desire for anyone since. She had convinced herself that part of her had died a while back. Maybe it was a one-off. Hopefully. Things would be much more difficult for her if she started craving sex. Giving in and participating in Draco's use of her every night was beyond considering. She had some pride left after all. It might be buried under her barrier of indifference, but it is the source of the indifference and she needed it to survive.

She wished she could talk to someone about it. Although the only person she talked to was Neville and it would be hard to admit that she accidentally fucked Draco. Another wave of indignified nausea washed over her. Although in school, everyone seemed to have a go with Draco, and a few of them claimed it just happened, which she'd never bought. But last night just kind of happened. It's not like he was fighting it, he gave her what she needed and she took it. Clear and simple. No use crying over spilt milk. Let's just keep it simple and make sure it never happens again, she chided herself.

She got out of bed to dress and Draco turned his head towards her. His eyes were opening, he was waking up. She dressed in the baby doll dress to the point of inserting her arm with the bracelet. Draco was now lying on his side watching her. He didn't say anything, but the blankets had ridden down to reveal most of his lean and muscular torso. Damn his penchant for nudity, she thought. So ridiculously confident. God, she hated him.

She held out her arm to him to remove the bracelet. He reached behind him and got his wand.

"I have to go," she said, when she was dressed.

He didn't say anything, but was watching her legs. She didn't want to know what was going through his mind at that moment. If she had the use of a wand, she would obliviate him, but the bracelet made sure she couldn't. Instead she turned and left to start the breakfast service.

Draco was in a ridiculously good mood during breakfast, to Hermione's chagrin. She needed to get back to indifference and she seemed to be getting further away from it every day. Instead she was filling with hate, which burned and twisted inside her.

After breakfast, she would go find some remote part of the house to clean and work on her mental state. She blamed her lack of indifferent balance for the incident last night. By the end of a couple of hours, the floor was sparkling in whatever kind of room she was in. This room had long since given up its intended purpose and had likely not seen anyone other than her for quite a while. She could probably live in here and no one would ever notice. If she wasn't stuck sleeping in Draco's bed that is.

Only Mrs. Malfoy was in the house for lunch, which meant simply delivering a tray. Mrs. Malfoy completely ignored her intrusion and Hermione escaped as soon as possible. Neville wasn't around that day, so there was no particular purpose for Hermione's walk through the garden in the afternoon. After her walk, she spent an hour sweeping the courtyard between the house and the garden. Mrs. Malfoy had given up telling Hermione which chores to perform each day. Hermione didn't know if that was because she didn't care or she was happy with Hermione choosing her own course through the dusty and mildew ridden house. The unused portions of the house were damp and tended to have mildew developing everywhere.

Before she knew it, she needed to prepare for dinner service. She had managed to quieten her mind somewhat during the day.

Draco was in a foul mood during dinner, and his father had also lost the miniscule outwardly appearance of joviality that he could sometimes display, but had been gone since Draco's injuries. Mrs. Malfoy was doing her best to liven the mood. There were no guests tonight, but she still did her duty.

"Now we really must talk about the future, darling," Mrs. Malfoy said to Draco.

"I'm not getting married, mother," Draco returned sourly.

"Everyone must get married. It is your duty."

"See I thought fighting this infernal war was my duty."

Mrs. Malfoy was seeking support from her husband who was distracted by other thoughts. Mrs. Malfoy reached over to touch his hand which successfully retrieved Lucius from his musings.

"I said, it is time Draco got married."

"Yes," Lucius said, still distracted.

"I'm only 22," Draco stated. "Father was well into his thirties before he got married. I have told you before, I am not going to deal with some clinging imbecile while I have to fight this war."

"What about Pansy?" Mrs. Malfoy plowed on. "You seemed to get on well with her at school."

"She is a lesbian these days, Mother."

"That doesn't really matter, dear," She said to Draco annoyance.

Mrs. Malfoy was also getting annoyed at the distinct lack of backup from her husband. Hermione expected that he was off planning the war in his head. Voldemort would be somewhat lost without Lucius Malfoy, maybe things would have gone better for her side if they had fully realised that earlier. Although he was tasked with the strategy for this war, she suspected it was not a war he had encouraged. And the sum of the things she heard, things weren't going well. Hermione wondered why he wasn't pushing hard for an heir.

When dinner was finished, Draco went at the first available opportunity. Lucius followed, off to his study, leaving Mrs. Malfoy to her own devices.

Hermione had to report for the bath after clearing up, but she took her time. She didn't want to deal with Draco tonight. Not only was there last night, but he was also in a foul mood. Maybe that was good. All the same, she didn't want to go, but she did.

He was drinking heavily and followed her into the bathroom to help her undress.

"I can't believe my mother. She doesn't care a whit about my happiness. It's all duty with her."

"Your father doesn't seem so concerned."

"Voldemort tends to play fast and loose with the men that are 'well-established'," Draco said, sucking on a cigarette.

Hermione could understand Lucius' lack of enthusiasm for getting his son married at this particular point, which was an immense disappointment to Hermione with regards to her immediate situation.

"Your mother doesn't seem to be aware of this fact," she said while getting into the bath.

"We don't trouble her with any of the things that go on around the Dark Lord. It is hard enough to keep her nerves in check as it is. A bit harder now."

Hermione tried the trick that she learned from Draco and sank under the water. She stayed there as long as she could, enjoying the silence. When she emerged, Draco was gone. Excellent trick.

Eventually she couldn't stay in the bath any longer and got out. He was sitting behind his desk and got up as she came out of the bathroom. He came over to her and pulled her to him by pulling her towel. He forced a deep kiss on her while taking hold of her wet hair at the back of her neck. Hermione was still holding the towel around her chest, doing her best to be still and unreactive. After the kiss ended, he was leaning his forehead on hers and smiled to himself.

"Back to that are we?" he stated more than asked.

Hermione didn't respond and felt uncomfortable under his gaze.

"See, last night..."

"Was an anomaly," she cut him off. "It meant nothing. Just one of those things."

He was silent for a second.

"It could be more," he said slowly. "I could be very good to you. I can provide you with anything you need. Protect you from what's going on out there. Give you anything you want. Clothes, jewellery."

"I'm only interested in the lack of jewellery," Hermione said sharply, holding up the iron bracelet on her wrist.

He stared at the bracelet for a second. He seemed to be formulating what to say.

"We both know what happened the last time that bracelet came off," he said after a while.

Hermione's anger flashed up and she pushed him away. He had the audacity to propose some kind of arrangement with her, that she be his mistress or something along the lines of Stina that pined away all day until her paramour returned to throw her whatever crumbs he would spare her. He didn't seriously think she would agree to this.

"My friends are dead," Hermione said, shaking with anger. "Everyone I loved is dead. You and your people are responsible for that. And you think in a million years that I would accept you."

She wasn't exactly sure what she was saying, it was just spewing out.

"I don't want to be near you," she spat. "I hate you. I don't want to sleep in your bed. I don't want you to touch me. The only reason I don't fight is because I don't care enough about you to take the fucking beating for refusing."

She could tell that her words stung. He looked hurt, but the hurt look was giving away to anger. She was in trouble now, she thought. She had gone too far and he was going to punish her now, her mind flashed. She didn't care, she told herself. It was only pain, she had been here before.

He forcefully wrapped his hands around her throat and pushed her back onto the bed. Climbing on top of her and squeezing. Hermione couldn't help but start to cry and the tears were flowing quick and heavy.

Draco immediately loosened his grip on her throat.

"I'm sorry," he whispered and hugged her to him. "I didn't mean to."

"I'll never hurt you." He wiped the tears from her cheek before leaning in to kiss her. He took advantage of Hermione's gasp for breath and dove his tongue deep into her mouth. It could only be described as a passionate kiss in a lost your marbles kind of way. He was pulling her body closer towards him and then proceeded to kiss her neck and collarbone, travelling down to her breasts.

"I'll make you love me," he mumbled.

Hermione's shock was quieting her emotions and she recognised that under the surface, he was a lot less stable than she had anticipated. This was not good. During her musings on his mental state, he had unzipped and was now entering her. He needed this, she realised. Needed her.

This was not good.