A/N: Just a reminder. Before plunging into this chapter, please review the Contents and Ratings sections at the top of chapter 1.

'For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.'

Khalil Gibran

'It is for God to punish wicked people; we should learn to forgive.'

– Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights

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The Tower Window

10. When Duty Calls

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Never in her years, not one single time, could she ever remember a storm so terrible in the middle of winter. The thunder rolled and shook, the lighting hissed and popped, and the window rattled in the frame all night. The tower itself seemed to sway from the gale force winds. She thought several times the tower with her in it would surely topple in the night.

Sleeping only in the lulls of the storm, she got up once to light a candle. The storm was too fierce to sit by the window so she propped up a pillow and sat in bed. She watched the lightning illuminate the vast grounds and the walls of her tiny chamber. She wondered how in the hell life had come to this. It was time to have a talk with her innermost self.

It wouldn't be long now. She had drug her feet for as long as she dared. One morning, very soon now, Draco Malfoy would come to her room and she would have to complete the mission. She had begun to think more and more about the reality of this. She might not survive it. Who and the hell are you kidding Hermione; you know you won't. Nevertheless Hermione steeled herself to continue. It was, after all, the only way out.

Hermione knew herself to be a compassionate creature who loved life and all living things. To do what she had to do now ran contradictory to her nature. Nothing Draco Malfoy had done to her as a child could ever warrant what she was about to do now. She had to be sure of that. She had to be sure in her heart this was not an act of vindictiveness. No, it was not that, she assured herself; when Draco Malfoy locked her up into this room he'd been the one to declare casus belli.

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The morning began only a little better than the night. The effects of the storm were mostly gone except for persistent winds that continued to rattle her window. When she and Daisy returned from her shower her heart leapt into her throat. There was a black negligee on the bed. The morning was now.

Spending a little more time with Daisy this morning, she was especially affectionate with the little house-elf. There was no way for Daisy to know this might be their last meeting. She kissed the elf on the head and wished her a good day, but Hermione knew that she probably wouldn't have one. She would most likely be questioned and might be considered guilty by association or something just as ridiculous.

She had almost come to enjoy the wispy lingerie. She liked the way it felt against her skin. She was amused by the mood it created and the way it made her feel: naughty but a bit nice. If she survived the war, she just might have to indulge in these again. But this garment was unlike the others Malfoy had chosen. Normally they were as thin as a cloud and nearly transparent, but this one wasn't. It was a slick satiny material with spaghetti straps and a low neckline. It hugged her curves. Well Malfoy, she said to herself. I hope you enjoy taking it off of me.

She made a few quick checks around her room while stepping into the matching heeled slippers Malfoy always insisted on. Everything looked fine. She had tried to steal away a change of clothes but could only manage to nip one pair of jeans and a pair of ballet flats. The dressing gown was still folded over the back of the chair. She would have to wear that as top when she made her getaway.

The knife she had spent so much time with was stuck in the side of the mattress nearest the wall. It was stabbed into the mattress like you would stick a knife in the end of a loaf of french bread. The head of her bed was lying in such a way so she could pull it with her left hand. With Malfoy on top of her she would throw her right arm around his neck and stab him with the left hand. Vital areas would include the liver and the lungs.

There was only one last thing to do. She grabbed up Classic Ballads by Blablabla and wrote in the margin of the correct page: Fluffy – It's on for this morning – stone cottage behind the manor – meet me.

Someone must have been assigned to watch the book. The response was almost immediate: Norbert – Will be there shortly.

So it was all set. Everything was in order – if only she could stop her nerves and the trembling fingers. Damnit, would her nerves betray her plans at the last minute? Would the mission and the whole war be lost with one uncontrollable display of the shakes? She had to calm down and steel herself. But how – how the hell do you do that Hermione? She took a series of deep breaths, but that just made her dizzy and she shook all the same.

She was suddenly reprimanded by something deep in her self-conscious that welled up inside. This is a performance Hermione – an act – a job – just like it's always been. Concentrate on the performance – and that's what she did. When Malfoy slithered in through the door, Hermione was at her most sultry self.

As usual, Malfoy began with a few comments in his best attempt to be clever. Hermione remained slightly aloof and detached.

"After last night, I didn't expect you."

"You mean after the storm?"

"Yes," she said, but looking away all the time.

"It wasn't exactly a good night for sleeping. I thought about you up here – up here all alone. I thought about coming up, but I didn't." he explained.

"Well... maybe you should've - at least it would have helped me fall back to sleep."

This aroused the wizard and he moved in closer to run his hands over the slick fabric. Like a gift waiting to be unwrapped he couldn't resist getting the gown off her. He raised her arms over her head and then pulled her hem waist high. He gently caressed and rubbed his way up until the hem was above her shoulders and then jerked the whole thing off.

She turned her around to face him as he stepped out of his dressing gown. He rubbed and fondled her again before guiding her to the edge of the bed. Continuing to rub and caress skin, he tweaked her nipples and let his hand drift down to her knee and then back up. Gently prying her thighs apart he went exploring.

For all the playacting she was still nervous – she was so tense it felt like she might develop a cramp. Would he notice how stiff her muscles were? When his hands and fingers reached the target she was as dry as a sandbox.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Oh... it's just the storm I suppose. I was tense all night."

"Lie back," he instructed. He pushed her head to the foot of the bed. Damn – now her plan was going to hell in a hand basket. She had to think of something quick.

She grabbed his head and pulled him to her breasts. He allowed this with no protest.

"You can make it better Malfoy," she said and pushed on the top of his head. "You know what to do. I've had a shower – I'm all clean down there. It won't bite. Or don't you do this sort of thing with Mudbloods," she teased.

He made no sounds of protest, but let his tongue slither and snake down her belly. He teased for a while before his tongue continued down to the fiery hot button to her brain.

Part of her reactions were for show and part were for real. Her belly began to quiver and then rolled. She grabbed a handful of white hair and pulled. All the time she wriggled and twisted until she was back at the head of the bed.

At the moment of crescendo, his flicking tongue shook her timbers like an old boat in a storm. He paused for only a moment and then pulled his hands out from under her ass. He was eager to have her his way and there was nothing now to stop him. He climbed on top to make a go for it. This time there was no resistance and they each moaned in relief.

She had a plan for how long she would let him go before she pulled the knife. Mercifully, she had finally come to the decision to let him go all the way. She needed him as tired and as distracted as possible. And after all – if things went her way it would be his last.

So following a now familiar plan, Hermione feigned extra movements with her arms and hands as a diversion : first she reached over her head to grip the bars of the headboard. White knuckled, her hands gripped the sheets at the edges of the bed. Finally she clawed at Malfoy's back. Perhaps this way he wouldn't be alerted when she reached out for the knife.

Galloping steadily all this time, Malfoy's breath began to shorten. At last, little goose pimples signaled he was near. Hermione feigned rapture while hands clawed and walked to the edge of the bed. When his head collapsed on her chest she could mentally bear the wait no longer. The left hand went out to feel around on the the edge of the bed until it was filled with the taped handle of the knife.

With a deep breath and a short prayer she locked her right arm around Malfoy's neck. He didn't seem to resist. No doubt the egotistical wizard mistook the meaning. The knife, ensconced in the mattress, came out of it's hiding place to begin the attack. Like a flick of lighting from the night before Hermione drove the shining steel in Malfoy's side with a 'plop' that sounded like slapping a melon.

Already she could feel the hot sticky blood. Malfoy tried to jerk away from her grip only to pull her into a sitting position. Once more she came down with the knife – a little high this time to go for the lungs. She felt the knife hit something hard and she heard a crack. It must have hit a rib, and she didn't have a secure enough grip, with the blood-covered and a taped handle, to drive it home.

Finally he pulled free and stood by the bed. Poor Malfoy, he had not finished after all. He stood there surreal with fluids spurting out of the front and back. When the shock and surprise was over, he reached behind him and pulled the knife from the bone and let it fall to the floor. With the blood still pouring, he slipped back into the robe.

"You BITCH," he spat and staggered out the door.

A bit shaken, Hermione froze for only a few moments before gathering herself to evaluate. One attack with the knife had succeeded. The first: a low hit probably found the liver, but the second to the lung had failed.

Don't just sit here on your arse here Hermione – go finish it. He would, no doubt, be struggling on the narrow staircase. She would stab him again or push him off the stairs into the abyss below. Maybe they would both go off together, but one way or another the wizard had to die.

Grabbing up the knife, she wiped the blood off the handle and raced out the door, naked. Approaching the first steps, she heard a scream and then silence. She continued down to see bloody hand prints on the wall and a puddle of blood beneath them. On the next step there was a smear going off the edge.

Malfoy must have paused to collect himself and then slipped to his death on the very next step.

...ooo0O0ooo...

She was suddenly overcome by a mental fog, but managed to find her way back to the tiny room. Escape – she had to remind herself to make good her escape. The mission would not be complete until she did. Still, with emotions running through her head, she cared little for such things. If she met her end at least her side in the war had a chance. Malfoy was surely dead.

She could still felt his touch from a few moments earlier. Shaking off these thoughts, she wiped herself clean with the towel and wriggled into the jeans and ballet flats. Using the dressing gown for a top, she cinched and tied the belt tightly. With the knife in hand, she was ready to make good her escape.

Out the door, Hermione carefully negotiated the blood-covered stairs where Malfoy fell. She continued down to the door to the first level. With the greatest of luck and probably because Malfoy didn't want to be bothered with a key, the door was still unlocked.

With all the elves busy with their day to day routines the corridors were nearly empty. One young house-elf, tarrying in the corridor, was shocked to see Hermione running toward her. With the knife in the elf's face Hermione put her finger to her lips. The little house-elf complied with huge glassy eyes.

Quickly, Hermione made her way to Malfoy's office. She wrenched open the drawer where he had stowed her wand. She poured the contents on the floor but the wand was not there. The bastard had moved it. She looked around for any other wands but found nothing that could serve as an impromptu weapon.

So she would continue alone with only the knife for defense. If she ran into another witch or wizard the game would be over. Reversing her course Hermione ran through the great hall toward the foyer she had used to escape the first time. Along the way she encountered no more elves. The feeling she would be caught at the last moment grew stronger with each step. With the foyer in sight her heart lifted for the first time in months.

She burst through the last door to the open grounds and took in the daylight, natural, and in it's purest form with no windows to dim it's wonder or block it fragrant sweetness. It was the first she'd seen in months. The cool air was so sweet it smelled like perfume. Sprinting to the corner of the house she paused to study the cottage. There were no outward signs – good or bad.

Running through the grass was difficult; the ground was soggy from all the rain. Halfway to the cottage she could see two figures standing on the porch. Feeling a bit of a chill now, she pulled the gown around her a little tighter. Her eyes never leaving the cottage, the two figures appeared to step inside and disappear. Perhaps it was members of the order. It was possible they didn't see her; maybe it was even Harry or Ron. She quickened her pace and the cottage was close now.

Almost out of breath, she paused to study the cabin at a much closer distance. There were no clues as to the occupants. Had the Order come as she had directed or was something else going on here. She stopped and stared and listened. There were voices inside, but none that she recognized.

But now, a voice in her head overruled: Hermione run – get your arse out of here.

She had just turned to run when the sound of someone speaking froze her in her tracks.

"You're not leaving are you Granger? You'll miss the party."

She glanced behind her to confirm her worse fears and ran full out as hard as she could go. The move was useless if not a little childish. Blaise apparated five steps in front of her with his wand pointed between her eyes. She slid, almost stumbling, to stop short.

"That's rude Granger. Don't you think she's rude Theo?"

With another hiss and a pop Theo apparated in behind her.

"It makes me think you don't care to see us Granger," replied Theo.

Hermione's chin fell to her chest. She could only hope the Order would be along any second, but she feared, in the back of her mind, that something had gone horribly wrong.

"I think there's someone inside you'd like to meet Granger."

Hermione refused to move or speak.

"The conversation is a little one sided. Shall we go inside – or will we have to drag you?"

One hard look at these two and Hermione sensed a lack of cooperation would be foolish. She didn't intend to go quietly in the night but two against one with no wand was very poor odds. In times like this she wondered how she ever got into this business. She knew it had something to do with Ron Weasley.

With Blaise and Theo behind her, she reluctantly assented to walk the twelve paces back to the cottage. Hermione paused at the door, truly afraid of who or what might be inside. Would she find a friend, a family member, or a loved one?

When she passed under the gable she had to force herself to look. It was not at all who she expected to find but just as shocking nonetheless. She saw herself. She saw Hermione Granger laying there curled naked on the floor in a bed of rags.

She froze at the sight and then turned toward Blaise and Theo for clarification. They stood there grinning but offered no words.

"What is this?" she finally asked. Nott and Zabini guffawed till they almost choked.

"Ol Drakie boy – thought he'd pulled a fast one didn't he? Thought he'd offer us up this slapper, the spitting image of Hermione Granger."

"With the help of Polyjuice Potion," added Theo.

"Indeed he did. When we saw you stumbling toward the cottage we went looking for the potion."

"We sure did," injected Theo, smiling. "And found a whole case hidden under that blanket."

"So old Draco has kept you hidden away in the manor all this time?"

"Kept her for himself, he did."

"Can't say I blame him much," said Blaise, locked onto Hermione with eager eyes.

"What the hell are you talking about?" she asked.

"Part of the agreement Granger: to win your stay of execution that is, was to keep you locked up in here," he said and pointed to the walls of the cottage. "But Draco broke his agreement with the Ministry... and he lied to us."

"Damn sure did," said Theo. "You were supposed to be here for all of us." He thumped himself on the chest.

"But we were cheated," said Baise and pointed to the girl in the floor.

"Sorry to disappoint you boys."

Blaise smiled and pointed to her like: you got me there.

"Well, we don't intend to be disappointed for much longer." Blaise aimed his wand at Hermione and gave it a little twist. The belt on her gown unknotted itself and fell limp at her side. Realizing she was about to have her clothes magically ripped away from her body, she raised her hands to stop them. She intended to survive this and she'd need them later, besides the knife was still in the gown pocket. Casually, she removed the gown, and placed it over the headboard with the pocket in reach.

"Bold as brass, this one."

Satisfied for only a few moments, Blaise pointed his wand lower, indicating her jeans were next. Hermione swallowed hard and shook her head. She would refuse to take them off the way she had the gown. Besides, maybe they would waste valuable time trying to get them off her.

It didn't take that much time - maybe two seconds. Blaise used a quick cutting spell to shed them. One more quick swish and flick and the ripped pieces were flying off her body and spinning through the air like confetti.

"Whoa! This one's really fit!. Much better that the Polyjuice version."

"Look at those rock hard abs," said Blaise as he walked around Hermione appraisingly. "A nice round bum and fine legs to boot."

"You been hitting one of those Muggle health clubs?" he asked Hermione. "Whad you think Theo – has miss Granger been working out?"

"Sure looks like it. But you know, there's only one way to find out."

"Yeah, what you got in mind?"

"You wanna flip?"

"Flip for what?"

"You know what. You want firsts or what?"

"Hell, you had firsts last time."

"Last time didn't count and you know it," he said and pointed to the girl on the floor.

Blaise pulled a Galleon coin from his trousers pocket.

"Heads or tails?" he said.

"Tails," called Theo, grudgingly. The coin hit the floor and spun around for a few seconds before falling on it's side.

"Heads it is," announced Blaise.

"Hell. You cheated."

"Did not!"

Standing there in only a pair of Ballet flats, Hermione felt like a calf at the auction block. There was a lump in her throat the size of a golf ball. She had no disillusions about what was to happen next. Sadly all she could do at this point was scream - but she would use the screams sparingly. It wasn't much of a plan but it would have to do until a better one came along.

Gawking and letting their eyes drink their fill, they finally grabbed Hermione and drug her to the bed. This triggered her first scream and it was a good one.

"Shut up Granger. It'll be worse if you keep wailing."

"The Order," she said. "They're on their way. Why do you think I'm here, you fools!"

"Well - then I guess we better enjoy ourselves while we can," snapped Blaise.

After a lengthy struggle, Blaise held out one of her arms for Theo to tie to the bedpost.

"It would take two of you bastards to handle one girl," she spat out the words. "Only a coward would have to tie a girl," she went on.

Thinking about this for a moment, Blaise released his grip on her arm.

Okay Hermione, good work, he fell for it.

"Have it your way then Granger. Theo, keep a wand on her."

Pinned flat on her back, Blaise was trying to force his legs between hers. He was trying to pry them apart but lacked the strength to do so. His wand was lying on a table beside the bed, and the gown with the knife was still hanging over the headboard. She had to fight back. She could use her free hands and create a distraction. With any luck she might get hold of the wand or the knife. She fought back as hard as she could; she slapped, she punched, and dug her fingernails across Blaises's face, furrowing three red bleeding marks across his cheek.

He immediately responded with a hard backhand to her jaw. For a moment she saw stars. He followed that clever trick with his left hand tightly locked around her throat. He squeezed until she feared she might pass out. That would be the last thing she needed. She stopped fighting and lay still, but kept her arms and legs tightly clamped to her body. She thought he would stop squeezing, but he didn't. His plan was clear, if she didn't submit he'd keep on squeezing until she passed out.

For a moment she almost blacked out and went as limp as a rag. When her head cleared, the bastard had managed to pry her legs apart. With his free hand he had his trousers down past his arse and was going for it. Still damp from being with Draco earlier, her natural defenses were missing entirely.

Hermione calculated she was only moments away from being violated by this bastard. Violated? She almost laughed. She seriously almost laughed. Hermione, get real girl - these two are going to take turns on you - you'll be shagged bloody. Chill out and plan another diversion. Think about another way to get at the...

Wincing when it happened, she clinched her eyes and lips tight.

Okay Hermione, it's time for another scream. And she did... or she tried to, but with Blaise still choking her it came out as a shrill raspy hiss.

Watching the door all this time, Theo could hear every bit of the struggle taking place behind him. Granger had put up a damn good fight, he thought. Now the only struggles he could hear were from rusty bed springs. He had just turned to check on his friend's progress when:

BOOM.

The curse sounded like a clap of thunder in the small cottage. Struck with a powerful stunning spell, Theo went flying into the wall and then slid comically down to the floor unconscious. Blaise, literally caught with his pants down, knew he was about to be attacked but was caught with the wrong wand in hand. Taking advantage of the distraction, Hermione grabbed for the knife and Blaise tried to stop her. She got her hand on it but never got it out of the gown pocket. She tried to stab him anyway bit only managed to cut and rip the gown.

Before Hermione could do serious damage another explosion sent Blaise flying across the room to join Theo.

Hoping to greet the Order, Hermione threw the gown over herself and turned to greet her rescuer. It was not the Order or any member of the Order. It was Malfoy. He was standing there languidly and leaning against the door frame for support. She looked at Draco solemnly. He was in a fresh gown but still bleeding heavily down his right side.

"Didn't expect to see you here," she began.

He tried to chuckle, but only coughed up blood.

"I don't suppose it would do any good to say I'm sorry," she quipped.

"Not a bit."

"Are you going to kill me – couldn't blame you too much if you did?"

Draco dropped his head in response to her query.

"You just couldn't stay away from this place, could you?"

"I've learnt my lesson."

"We better go before they wake up. Besides you can't get in or out of the grounds without a friendly wand. The whole place is magically protected."

With that, Draco turned away from the cottage doorway and began back toward the manor. He had changed into a fresh dressing gown but it too was showing a large blood stain on his right side. He took three more steps before passing out and falling prostrate onto the ground. He had dropped his wand and it lay a few feet away from his hand. All she had to do was to pick it up and all the options were all hers.

The rain began again. Soft at first and then harder. A small stream of blood mixed with water trickled away from the wizard's side. She looked over the scene with mixed and torn emotions. At last she picked up the wand and returned to the cottage.

Still unconscious, she aimed Malfoy's wand at the bastard. "Obliviate," she conjured, and Blaise twitched and shook under force of the spell. With a strange wand she wasn't sure if she had wiped away a week of memories or a month. Who the hell cared she decided. Quickly, she went over to Theo and repeated the same magic. For a moment she considered something worse, but her concern shifted to the pitiful girl on the floor. She looked at Hermione with such curious and wanting eyes but there was nothing Hermione could do for her at the moment.

She returned to stand over Draco. She shook her head over the decision she had to make. He was no longer unconscious but unable to get up on his own. She looked at the wand and then Draco. She had done all for the Order she could. How much could be expected of one witch. The only problem with this mission was that it had been conceived by a man. Somehow, she thought, there might be another way.

"Draco," she called. He was more pale than usual and looked back with dreary, bloodshot, eyes. "Draco, let's go," she beckoned.

"I'm dying – just go."

"No you're not but you've got to get back to the house. Do you hear me?"

"I can't make it."

At this, she pulled and struggled to get him up. His hands kept slipping out of hers in the raining and muddy conditions. Finally she managed to pull him to his feet and placed his arm around her shoulder.

"Let's go," she went on. "We have to get back to the house."

Hermione, with the cut and sliced dressing gown, and Draco, still leaking blood, both slogged arm in arm through the wet muddy conditions back to the door of Malfoy Manor.

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A/N: Well, that's the end of part one – hope you liked it; thanks for reading. Sincere grats goes out for comments and support from: dutch potterfan, Guest, LanaLee1, and phoenixtearsandfeathers. Also a big thanks to all the other reviewers who have helped me along the way. And last but not least, a big thanks to all that faved or followed.