DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters. All J K Rowling's genius work.

This story was inspired by wishimight's Bella/Edward story, Dangerous Affections. Unfortunately, that story was pulled down, but I would still like to thank wishimight for creating such a lovely story, and inspiring my own.

Chapter Twenty – Pain

"Hermione, we can explain," Blaise mumbled, his eyes downcast.

He and Draco had summoned their courage to face the irate witch in their kitchen. Hermione's bushy brown hair seemed to be crackling with anger.

"Oh, you better explain," Hermione snapped. "What the hell is a file with my details on it doing here?"

"Hermione, please," Blaise pleaded. "Hear us out before you jump into any conclusions, okay?"

Hermione's expression did not waver. "You have exactly sixty seconds."

Neither Blaise nor Draco knew why they were so desperate for her to understand, or for her to listen to their side of the story. After all, it would have been so much easier for them to kill her right then and there. There would be no questions, and Snape would finally shut up.

They both knew that the likelihood of her sticking around after hearing their story would be slim, but they still wanted to give it a shot. Problem was, where to start?

Blaise felt it began with Voldemort; most, if not all, stories did. His right hand twitched towards his left forearm, then decided that it would probably not be wise to begin by showing Hermione his brand, but it was too late.

Hermione's face paled as she caught the reflex reaction.

"Oh, hell no," she whispered. Her eyes flickered from Blaise to Draco, begging one or both of them to contradict her, to interject in and reassure her by saying she was just imagining things, but neither did.

There was no sound but her rapid breathing.

"You… you're…" Hermione swallowed, before shrieking at the top of her lungs, "You're Death Eaters?"

Hermione clutched her head, trying to control the dizzying feeling that she was being sucked down a black vortex. Everything was starting to look hazy and the ground seemed so far away, and yet she felt like she was falling.

She had some inkling that the boys would be Death Eaters; after all, their parents—heck, the entire extended family—were notorious for being proud members and/or supporters of the Death Eaters of Lord Voldemort.

The Death Eaters were the evil warriors of Lord Voldemort; most had been willing to give their lives in service for their Lord. When their Dark Lord fell at the hands of The Chosen One (a.k.a. Harry Potter), the remaining Death Eaters and their supporters went underground to become spies and assassins.

Hermione tried to keep the fragile pieces of her mind together, but she was failing miserably. First, it was her disappointment with her relationship with Ron. Then it was the horror of the men from the alleyway. Then her relationship with Ron fouled. At the bottom of all her problems, she had found Draco still there for her.

And now, when she found that the person who had seemed to be her safe rock, her mental harbour, had betrayed her, too… She felt like she was hanging on to a hair that was her sanity.

"You…"

Hermione hated it how she was becoming incoherent. She didn't want to be weak—she was sick of being weak, of everyone inquiring of her health, physically, mentally and emotionally. But everything seemed to keep hitting her until they only left tatters of her former self.

"You…"

She didn't even know why she felt so much pain. Draco Malfoy, and, in essence, Blaise Zabini, had bullied her throughout her school years. Why did she suddenly feel like a friend was betraying her? Had her short relationship with Draco Malfoy really turned from arch-enemy into friend?

"You… betrayed… me?"

Why was she surprised that Draco Malfoy ended doing something like this to her? She should have seen it coming! After all, it was Draco Malfoy who led the original Death Eaters to attack Hogwarts, it was Draco Malfoy who had threatened the lives of many of her friends. Goodness, with the newest revelation that Draco Malfoy worked for the Death Eaters, he might even have killed some of her friends.

"How… could you?"

How could she have been so blind? She was the smartest witch of her age, but it proved that there was a chink in her mental armour. All an enemy had to do was worm their way into her mind by pretending to be their friend, and bada-bing, bada-boom, Hermione Granger was their newest best friend!

"I… trusted you…"

What was wrong with her? Maybe the men from the alley, and then again later, their leader, had been set up by Draco Malfoy. All they had to do was harass her, let the conniving ferret show up with a gun, save the damsel in distress, and… look, it's Prince Charming!

"… but you betrayed me…"

Hermione cursed herself for her stupidity.

"I thought you were my friends."

Stumbling, half blind by the tears and the pain, she made her way to the lounge, and hopefully out to the front door.

She felt a stone cold hand pull on her arm, but she yanked it back, with a loud, "Don't you DARE touch me, Draco Malfoy!"

She heard Draco grunt, and Blaise whining something or other, but before she could so much as try to comprehend what was going on, she felt both of her arms being pulled behind her back, and another hand clamping down on her mouth.

She struggled to get free, but the pain had made her weak. Where was the strength she had used to slap Malfoy in their third year? Where was her Gryffindor courage now?

"Don't struggle, Granger," Malfoy hissed in her ear. "You'll make everything all the more complicated."

She was being dragged back, and no matter how strong she fought, she couldn't evade the strong, cold arms that she had grown to trust.

"Trust me, we don't want to kill you," Blaise added. "But we can't let you go away without hearing our side."

AN:

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