My everlasting gratitude for those of you still with me and this story. I can tell by the drastic drop in reviews that many readers are probably getting impatient *sighs* But what can I do? I'm extremely busy during the week and yesterday I all but passed out once I hit the bed. I'm actually kind of nervous about this chapter because, though it does give another 'piece' of the story, I just don't feel like my muse is connecting with it. But …well you be the judge. Rest assured that the following chapter will be a bit more interesting. So yeah lol, thank you for all those who have reviewed thus far. I do hope you are all still enjoying the story.

I do not own any of J.K. Rowling's work, solely the plot to this story.

Hermione could hear the other teen getting ready behind her, his audible chuckles only causing her already somewhat flushed face to brighten in color. After their previous informative conversation, Draco had loudly proclaimed that he was in need of a cold shower. All the more reason to stay away from the pervert. Seriously, when it came to the male anatomy, Hermione was at a loss. Sure, she knew the basics, but by no means did that include morning w—

"What's your problem now? Don't worry, I'll send Jessie with something for you to eat, no need to go all bravado on me. I really don't care, you know."

"I wasn't trying to impress—"

"I know." Draco replied, his voice no longer coming from the other side of the room.

Hermione was slightly startled with the calm and gentle fingers that suddenly brushed against her right shoulder. His breath ghosted across the nape of her neck, causing an involuntary shiver to ripple down her back.

"You're really making me regret saving you, Granger, you know that."

"I didn't ask you to save me."

"And you have no idea how difficult you being here really is."

"Because I'm a mudblood."

The fingers that brushed against her now whirled her around and Draco stared at her, his eyes expressing an unfamiliar expression. It was hard to place, but then he spoke, morphing it into nothing but indifference. "Yes," he returned evenly, "because you're a mudblood."

Hermione crossed her arms. "Well, so then just let me leave. I'll go to Hogwarts and—"

But Draco was shaking his head. "Can't. It's impossible with the wards my father has."

"Then take me off your grounds."

"And risk both our lives? Sorry but, I don't care that much." He snorted, turning back towards the bed to put his shoes on. "So you're just going to have to deal—"

"Are you saying you care a little then?"

Her voice cut into his unfinished taunt, and now silver-blue eyes glanced up to meet the smirking witch in front of him. He glared at her. "You're treading on dangerous ground, mudblood."

But Hermione just rolled her eyes and made her way towards the restroom.

"Hey, I never said you could use—"

"Unless you want me urinating on your floor then you'll not restrict me such necessities."

A scowl made its way onto his pale features. "That's disgusting!"

The restroom door closed, her brittle laughter cutting off simultaneously.

Draco scoffed and finished getting dressed. Urinating on the floor. How typical of a dirty mudblood.

Right. As if you wouldn't have said something like that.

I would not.

Sure you would.

Quiet. I need to think.

But you are thinking … I think.

He snapped his fingers and immediately a knobbly-looking house-elf appeared out of thin air, already bowing. "Y-yes, M-master M-malfoy?"

"Bring up some food from the kitchens."

"But your parents is waiting for you downsta—"

"It's not for me."

At this the small creature looked up with wide, trembling eyes. "Oh noes! I cannots! I cannots! I cannots serve Master's friend! I is already punishing myself for keeping her a secret! I—"

"Silence!" Draco retorted hotly, successfully quieting the elf. "You will do as I say. I am your Master as well. And for the record," he added, a frown marring his face, "she's not my … friend."

"But—"

"I said shu—"

"Leave her alone!"

Draco exhaled. Great. She was going to start with her 'house-elf rights' crap. "Stay out of this."

"You poor thing! Don't worry, you don't have to do anything—"

"Ah! Get away! Get away you bad, bad girl! Jessie is a good elf! Jessie will not interact with the unclean guest!"

Hermione stopped in midstride and her jaw dropped. "No, no. You've got it all wrong. The Malfoys are just prejudiced, Jessie. You have to believe—ow! "

"I is sorry, but I must obey orders, Miss." She turned away from a very surprised Hermione towards the smirking blond. "If there is nothing else, Jessie will be leaving then?"

Never looking away from Hermione's wide eyes, Draco waved a hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah. Go."

A small pop resounded in the air and Hermione immediately glared angrily at the other. "Unbelievable. Is your family really so prejudiced that you teach your house-elves to call Muggle-borns filthy?"

Draco shrugged, now grabbing his cloak. "Seems so."

"Horrid. You people are absolutely horrid. To think after how cruel you treat them, and yet you still insist on poisoning their minds—"

"We have a problem."

Hermione snorted. "So nice of you to notice."

"You can't stay here."

"Whoever said I wanted—"

"Will you shut up for a moment and let me talk?"

"What for? So you can insult me further?"

"It seems the house-elves are bound tighter to my father than I thought."

"Jessie won't say anything. Or didn't you hear? She's punishing herself—"

"But that's only because Jessie is partially mine. It's the way it works, not that you would ever understand."

"There's nothing to understand concerning pitiless enslavement."

"Are you hungry?"

"Then again you are Draco Mal—what?" The question caught her off-guard, and her confusion meshed almost comically with the bitterness that had previously set camp on her face.

"Are you hungry?"

Hermione hesitated. Draco was watching her with a calculative look, an expression that did not generally associate itself with such a question. She answered slowly. "Well, yes—"

"I can't bring up any food."

"Maybe—"

"And the house-elves won't listen."

"You could summon—"

"You forget what kind of house-hold you're in, Granger. Here we don't eat in any room like some welfare-begotten Weasley. We have etiquette. Plus it's not allowed."

Anger flashed across her eyes. "That's because you're a bunch of arrogant, selfish, cold-blooded—"

"Which means you can't eat while you're here."

"Well isn't that grand. You save me from a deadly poison just to starve me to death."

"I don't appreciate your sass."

"And I don't appreciate your idiocy."

"You're not letting me finish. I have an idea."

She let out an amused snort. "Let me guess. You expect me to just prance downstairs with you and have morning brunch with your evil father and narcissistic mother."

Draco gave her his most mischievous grin. "Actually," he drawled, now standing right in front of her, "that's exactly what I was thinking."

Hermione sat in front of the full-length mirror. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she still found it quite … feminine that Draco would have such an assortment of hair products and matching 'vanity' like mirror. She still couldn't believe she had let him talk her into this. It was insane! It was disgusting, not to mention suicidal, but he had made some valid points …

"You could be my guest of the evening."

"Who so happens to be sleeping in your room? And pray tell, how did I manage to get here?"

"I already told you."

"I am not going to say that."

"Yes you are."

Really, Malfoy, I'd rather not eat for a few days."

"You're going to be here for more than a few days."

"It would be faster to try getting me out of here."

"We risk nothing with going through with it."

"Yes we do! We could get caught! Not to mention, your parents are going to think I'm just another one of your slutty whores!"

"Oh, so now you care what they think?"

"No, I just …"

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut. Sure, it would make her staying here that much simpler. And sure, it would also help with getting her out of here. But …

"Unless you have a better idea, I suggest you start getting ready."

"But—"

"You have thirty minutes. Make it good, Granger. Otherwise no one will believe it and both our asses are on platter."

Which Hermione would much rather prefer than the situation she now found herself in. Although it was true that neither Lucius nor Narcissa Malfoy had ever really gotten a good look at her, this was still a very risky endeavor. But this wasn't the main reason Hermione was so nervous.

It was the …thing, Draco had left her to wear.

"That? Malfoy, you must be mad. There is no way I'm putting that rubbish on. I doubt it even fits."

"Oh trust me, it'll fit."

"But your mother will be down there! Surely you don't want them thinking that we—that we …" She couldn't seem to bring herself to finish that sentence, and so Draco did it for her.

"That we've been having unwarranted yet smoldering sex? Yes, I believe that's exactly what we want them to believe."

"You're so disgusting."

"My father is. And my mother lives with it."

"So you've done this before then?"

Draco smirked. "Well, not exactly this, no. But I have had a few girls over. Father actually seems to approve of it." And then in a lower voice, he muttered, "For once."

Though Hermione didn't seem to hear it. Rather, she appeared to be getting sick over the mere idea.

Draco continued in a demeaning tone. "You're nowhere near as attractive though. That might be the only downfall. He wouldn't want me screwing some ugly bitc—hey!"

"That's enough. I get it. Now shut up and leave already." Hermione cast him a furious glare. "I have to get ready."

Which is where Hermione now found herself. She let out a strangled-like groan and dropped her head against the palms of her hands.

He should have just left me to get poisoned.

Draco kept his face blank as his father scrutinized him from the head of the table. His mother remained indifferent, only having glanced at him as he entered and bade her good morning with a peck on her cheek. Routine, of course. He knew it meant nothing to her.

But never mind that. His father had yet to speak. And that was worrisome.

Then finally—

"So, you mean to tell me, Draco, that you've had this … Durmstrang girl in your room since you've arrived?"

"Yes."

A cold glare. "And you failed to mention this upon your arrival because …"

"She was with me when the signal went off. It was inevitable."

"Where was she when your mother went up?"

"The restroom."

"Let me guess. She was still in there when I went up there as well."

"Yes."

His father's eyes narrowed.

Draco forced the flicker of anxiety that threatened to glimpse across his face. He'd known it was a long shot, that his father would undoubtedly see through his lie, but it was the only way Hermione would be kept safe here at Malfoy Manor.

You're risking a lot for her, aren't you? Father is surely going to kick our a—

"So where is she now then?"

Draco shifted his attention immediately back to his father. "Upstairs. She's nervous to meet you so I offered to come down first."

Another steely-eyed frown. "How … chivalrous of you. A bit more than necessary for a common hussy."

Draco bit back a retort. He met his father's cool gaze evenly instead, waiting patiently. His mother, he noticed, did not once glance in either direction. And then—

"Well then, what are you waiting for? Bring her down here. And hurry up, we have waited long enough."

"Yes, father."

And with that he left, his pace quickening with every step. As soon as he was out of view, a stream of air elicited from his mouth, a breath he had apparently been holding in. So far so good.

But Draco wasn't ready to relax just yet. He knew his father suspected something. Despite being the villainous bastard that he was, his father was no idiot. But for now, Draco was going to have to take what he could get. And perhaps, if Hermione looked the part enough, he would believe their cover story.

If she looks good enough, hell, maybe he'll think I was just trying to keep her to myself. He is a vile pig, after all.

Draco snorted, making his way down the last corridor leading to his room. Right. As if Hermione Granger could pull off resembling a whore. Pansy would have been more suitable. Not little Miss Prude.

He reached his room, not bothering to knock. "Ok, Granger. It's show tim—ah dammit."

He stalked over to the closed restroom and started banging on the door. "I told you thirty minutes. Why aren't you ready? Do you have any idea how much I'm risking for your pathetic existence? Get the fuck out here right now before I—"

"Draco?"

The door opened a fraction of an inch and he was met with a worried brow and one frantic-looking brown iris. The torch had been snuffed but he was close enough to see that—

"Good. You're wearing make-up. That should help some. Hurry up, my parents are wait—"

"I don't think we should do this."

"Too late. I already told them about you. So get your shit together and—"

"But I look like a mindless floozy!"

"Yeah, that's the point."

"Your father is going to find us out."

"Granger—"

"I just don't think I can do it! I don't even know if I put this—this thing on right!"

Shit. He could hear the panic resonating from her usually determined voice. It was painfully obvious how scared she was, and fear was something his father could sense. The thought made something clench inside his chest, and he automatically dropped the usual malice that usually laced his voice. Maybe it hadn't been a good idea after all … But there was no going back now.

"It will be fine. I promise. So just come out … Please?"

No response. And then—

Draco's jaw dropped, silver-blue eyes widened, and the room seemed to have been suddenly plunged into a blazing inferno.

Chocolate-brown eyes peered at him anxiously, ruby red lips folding in nervously as she stood before him. Her expression completely clashed with the ensemble Draco had picked out for her and she stood awkwardly, pulling down on the top that just refused to cover up her lower abdomen. She lacked the confidence that usually emanated from her person, and yet—

Draco blinked once. Twice. And then: "Holy. Fuck."

Review-replies:

Sophia martinez pilnik- Hello there! Thank you for reviewing. I appreciate the suggestion. The thing is, when it comes to Draco (at least imo), his 'affection' for Hermione is shown by the things that he does and not by the things he says. At least right now, and most of the time. However, after this chapter, we can see that he does care for her a little, right? At least I'm hoping it conveys as much lol. Don't worry though, as the danger pinnacles, there will be more Dramione. I am far from finished ;) thank you!

Korra1sg- Cuddly cuddly Draco indeed *meeeooow!* I'm actually not too crazy about this chapter but lol, well it had to happen. Glad you still like heehee. Thank you fellow trumpet pal!

Binotaurs- I think I get what you meant about the 'blue spots'. Hmmm, well I can't promise that kind of injury lol, but let's just say the situation is going to get more dangerous as we proceed and there will be people getting hurt … And your ideas are bad, silly lol. I always enjoy reading new suggestions. It makes me a better writer. I am very happy you still like the story. To be honest, I'm really not sure about this chapter, so hopefully I haven't lost my muse. Oh, and to answer your question: 'she is saying that to Dumbledore, isn't she? That painted girl' Actually Lady Serena—the painted girl—is talking to herself. But she is going to let Dumbledore know, which we will read later. And I totally understand about the job, obviously lol. Thank you as always my dear!

Sephra-Haha! Yes, morning wood is a funny topic indeed. I learned about it just last year—sad huh? Lol! And of course, we both know you already are pretty spot on about what's going to happen next (or did happen here I guess haha). Thanks again!

Review please :)