A/n: Here's another update, and we are going to focus on Draco's Dark Mark more here. Hope you enjoy! Thanks to my beta loveinthemadness! **Not yet edited. And as always, check me out on facebook! The link is up on my profile.

The following morning Hermione realized she had slept very little. Draco's words echoed over and over again inside her head, toying with everything she knew. Sure, he seemed very adapt to hating domestic violence, but nonetheless it didn't explain his severe hate towards the subject. Ron was certainly in the wrong for what he had done, but she didn't get why it affected the blonde so much.

At some point in the night it passed through her mind that Draco might like her, but she shushed the idea. That would go against everything he stood for; he had changed, but not that much. His strange behavior had to be the product of some other source of reasoning. Struggling out of the comforting warmth of her bed, she stretched, rubbing her eyes slowly.

"Well, that's a simple answer really. You see Hermione, I believe that if I started hitting him, I wouldn't be able to stop."

His words played a repetitive lullaby as she walked to the bathroom, ready to shower. She felt a bit more reassured that he did actually want to help knowing that he actually felt some kind of need to protect her. Why did he want to protect her? She didn't know- and she didn't want to know. Knowing might ruin the lovely allusion she had in her mind about his caring nature. Maybe this entire thing wasn't just about getting rid of his scar and making his life easier. It was at least nice to consider.

Little did she know that the tranquility of her thoughts would be rudely interrupted just hours from now. She had no idea that she would have to face more old enemies.

Draco didn't say a word to her the entire morning; she never even saw him. Instead of trespassing on the man's room, Hermione chose to occupy herself with the salve in his potions lab. She was neglecting that job as much as her actual career lately, and she needed to start earning as much money as possible if she hoped to move out on her own when her divorce was finalized.

That is, if she ever got to file for a divorce. The newspaper lay untouched at her side, the article on the front page seeming daunting. She didn't want to read about all the gossip and lies printed on the front page.

At length, she glanced at the clock and realized she was hours past lunch, having been lost in the whirlwind of concentration involved when trying to discover which potion ingredients would work best together. So far she still wasn't having much luck. Yawning, she snatched up the paper and headed for the door, intent on burning the pages in the fireplace in her room before she went to find something to eat.

Walking into the hallway, she glanced at her surroundings. Up until this time she really hadn't bothered to look at the expensive décor around her. But truth be told, the Manor was rather lovely. Everything appeared a bit gloomy, yes, but there was no denying that it was exquisite. Whether Malfoy was personally responsible for the way things looked or not didn't matter just then, and she marveled at the luxurious amber rugs that covered an old, stony floor and the candles that lay suspended from the ceiling. Had she really been so worried about her situation that she had never noticed any of this beauty until now?

Rounding a corner, she found herself too lost in the scenery around her to notice the figure hobbling along the floor. Bumping into the person, she grunted as she was shoved back by a tall frame, and from a moment thought it was Draco who was pushing her around.

Snapping her head back up after her fall, she discovered that this person was not Draco at all. The hair was too long, the frame slightly too short. Livid eyes glared down at her, and she scurried to her feet in the presence of him. This was not her husband; this was someone she had never been able to tolerate, and who only knew how to hate her. She had no problem thinking about all the wicked spells she could shoot his way.

"Miss Granger," he said coolly, though his eyes seemed unfocused. "I never thought anyone would give me the pleasure of viewing a war hero in real life again. I always supposed it would come from tainted photographs that only show a glimpse of time." He sneered at her. "What are you doing here?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow at the man, recalling the blonde's recollection of both his parents behind insane. But she didn't think this man before her appeared insane- angry, but not insane. Perhaps Azkaban wasn't the trauma to his father's mind that the blonde made it out to be.

"I'm walking," she said coolly in return, fingering her wand in her pocket. "I've been invited her if you desire to know. Now I would be grateful if you would let me pass. I'm not bothering you." Maybe if she was civil, he would let her pass and they could stop looking at each other. She felt like he was studying everything about her under his gaze, and she really wasn't sure she liked it.

"Who invited you?" He pressed, stepping closer but she pulled her wand out quickly and pointed it at his chest.

"Who do you think?" she spat, just as she heard footsteps approaching. Very sure she knew who was coming their way, she rolled her eyes and raised her voice. "It would've helped if you were a little earlier!"

Just as she predicted, Draco rounded the corner behind her, and without looking up she could hear his footsteps increasing when he saw the scene. Half a moment later, he was at her side.

"Leave her alone father," he said sternly, reaching up to pull her hand down, but she remained firm. Did he really think she would let him defend her as though she didn't know how to fight at all?

"I'm only speaking to her," the older man replied, angling his head towards her again. "Correct?"

"Correct," she agreed, glancing at the blonde now. "I was just leaving in fact. Good day Lucius."

Obviously her blatant disregard for the meeting surprised both the Malfoy men, and as she turned and walked the other direction she could hear Draco loudly whispering to his father, and he didn't sound pleased. Yet she couldn't help but feel irritated with him that he felt he had to protect her so much when she knew how to fight. So long as it wasn't Ron she didn't seem to crumble quite so much.

The girl had absolutely no idea where she was going as she walked, but a few minutes later and several turns away Draco caught up with her, grabbing her arm.

"You're getting further and further away from you're room," he said gruffly, his voice holding a pained twinge that she didn't understand. "My father's gone now, you can come back this way."

She pulled out of his grasp, walking ahead. "I could've walked the other way the first time Draco, I just chose to separate myself from the two of you. Was that really necessary?"

"Yes," he hissed, gripping his arm. She remained faced away and didn't notice the action.

"Look, I really appreciate what you did for me regarding Ron. Everyone knows I wouldn't have been able to fight him myself. But that doesn't mean that I can't handle myself with anyone. I do know how to defend myself, and I certainly don't have a problem fighting your father after everything." She cut herself off there, afraid of continuing on. She might just start ranting if that were the case.

"I wasn't concerned about you not being able to handle yourself," he scoffed. "But you don't know him Hermione. He's… sneaky. You don't know his intent there. I don't even know what he wanted from you- maybe it was nothing." The lost word came out in grit, and she finally glanced back, catching the pained expression on his face. Immediately, she stopped.

"Are you alright? Is it bothering you again? I mean the mark?"

"It always bothers me," he snapped, his irritation levels higher than usual. He sighed when he saw her brow furrow. "Right now it's worse than usual, but overtime I've learned to adapt to the pain."

Her frown deepened. "Well then, you should be lying down, not chasing me through the halls. If it's causing a lot of pain moving around a lot probably won't help very much. Come on," she said, looping her arm through his opposite one that wasn't in pain, "Back to bed."

If he was confused by her sudden change in mood, he said nothing about it on the walk back to his room. Although she was the one pulling him along as the aggravating pain increased, it was the blonde that led the way. Try as she may, she really didn't remember the exact path back to their rooms.

It was only when she had shoved him into bed that she bothered to speak again, turning away to search for the small amount of expensive salve he still had. "I understand that your father is a shady character Draco, but I can handle myself. Ron is the only person I've ever let hurt me, the only one I've never hit back." She found the container in one of his drawers and fished it out, bringing it to him. "Besides, that's not even that big of a deal now. It appears that you would have no problem beating him up for me."

"I thought we already went over this. I won't hit him Hermione, because I won't stop." He was about to dip his fingers into the container when she snatched it away at the last second, choosing to apply it herself. They sat silently until she was done.

"But if he hurt me again, things would be different," she mused. "Don't get me wrong, I have no intention of crossing paths with him ever when we are alone, I'm just saying. You get very defensive of me at times."

"So glad you noticed," he said sarcastically, keeping his eyes closed. Despite his mood, she didn't feel that offset by his tone. There was no venom in it.

"Were you serious when you said that your mark always bothers you?" she asked at length, finding it awkward to just sit on the side of his bed while he kept his eyes closed. The slave needed to dry, and his arm was quite heavy to hold up. She hadn't even realized she was still holding it until that moment.

"It comes and goes; someday are better than others. Like I've said Hermione, it's all dependent on your affiliation with the Dark Lord. I had more than my fair share of spells thrown my way, and I spent more than enough time in his presence."

She nodded slowly. "What's it feel like when it's not as bad?"

"It's just a dull irritation. I've come to ignore it when it's not bad. Sometimes it can reach a slight burn, but its manageable."

"It doesn't sound pleasant," she said, speaking her thoughts out loud.

"It's not." He finally opened his eyes, pulling his arm away to touch the pained area. "Today it's not nearly as bad as it can get, thank Merlin. It would've been much harder to deal with my father if I were crippled."

"I was fine," she reminded him sternly.

"And as I have said Hermione, I don't trust him." He forced himself to sit up, his voice no longer holding a pained undertone at least. Grabbing the container, he sighed. "I'll need to be getting myself more of this. I can't just hold out until you come up with a replacement salve."

She nodded, a bit disappointed in herself. She was after all being paid to create a new salve for him, and so far she had come up with absolutely nothing. "Do you have enough if this happens again?"

"Yes, once more at least, but I don't like to get that low. Sometimes the pains come more than once a day." He ran his other hand through his hair. "I best go back tomorrow and purchase some more."

She smiled. "I'll come with you. Maybe I can bribe this man into giving away some of his secrets to it."

Immediately, the blonde tensed. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea."

"Well, why not?"

"First of all, it's right by your old place of work. You might run into familiar faces. And on top of that, the man I buy this from is another shady character. I'm hardly comfortable going to see him some days. I might've hung around some dark characters in the past, but he is just a bit too creepy for my standards."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. That didn't sound like a very promising description, but she would not be deterred. "It doesn't matter if he's disturbing; the fact of the matter is he might be helpful." She stood, stretching, and missed his traveling eyes. "I thought you would be happy for any chance that I can get that might move my salve making along."

"I suppose," he said wearily, still sounding unsure.

"Oh, and one other thing," she continued, thoughtfully tapping her chin, "I think you should call Blaise over here."

"Why?"

"Because he had the mark too, and his reactions are different. Maybe if I understand the basic connection between the pain the both of you suffer, I'll be able to find ingredients that work better for the purpose. Then I can go through the lovely task of trying to make them into a solid to cover the Dark Mark, unless of course I can make a potion that works wonders…" she trailed off, lost in her own thoughts.

"If you think it's going to help," he relented, lying back down.

"I do," she said triumphantly. "Owl him whenever you feel better, and just let me know when to expect him."

"Of course."

"Thank you. Now I should probably get back to the lab. I've completely forgotten why I came down here in the first place. And you- well, you need to get some rest." She waved at him as she made her way to the door. "Sleep well Draco."

"Goodbye Hermione," he said, shutting his eyes. As the door clicked shut, he sighed. If that woman wanted to make herself as problematic as possible, she was doing a fine job. He had a very bad feeling circulating throughout his stomach about how awful things could go if he brought her along to meet his old dealer.

At least she agreed to go with him. He would feel a whole lot worse if she tried going all by herself. The girl just needed to stay in a safe environment for a little while, at least until things began to blow over.