Chapter 12

How dare that goddamn bitch run out on him like that? Who the fuck did she think she was? Saying fucking shit like "I could never trust you." Like she was so much better than him. Who the Hell was she?! She was a filthy little Mudblood, nothing more, and he was a goddamn Malfoy!

Draco paced up and down the small walkway in front of the Vanishing Cabinet. His steps were heavy and his chest rose and fell fast with every breath he sucked in through his nose. He didn't know why he had come here tonight, but where else was he going to go? He couldn't focus, couldn't concentrate. Not on anything that wasn't the flash in her big brown eyes as she declared her disdain for him.

He had her moaning out his name like a dirty whore and she had the audacity to fucking walk away from him? No, that's not how this worked. She couldn't just sit there and look so beautifully innocent, couldn't dig her nails into his skin and tremble against him and then act like he soulless. He closed his eyes, wishing it would dispel the shock and pain he had seen in hers at his harsh words.

His own opened and shone like mercury in the darkened room. She had deserved it though, it was her fault he had even said those things.

Why did she balk when he tried to tie her hands up? She hadn't had a problem with anything else he had done to her, not a lasting one at least. Did she think he was going to hurt her? Well, he had planned on fucking the shit out of her and make her scream and cry, but she would have liked it. Deep down, she would have loved it.

And he would have loved doing it to her. He loved watching her adorable little mouth open as sharp breaths passed through it. Loved watching the rise of color in her cheeks, loved watching the deep cinnamon of her eyes burn into his as he gave her what only he could. No one else had touched her. She was Pure. Purely his.

"Are you a Death Eater?"

Those words had come back to haunt him as well. Draco rubbed his left forearm, trying to ease the dull burn there but it did nothing. He wished he had another bottle of Ogden's, but Nott hadn't been able to get any more in lately and his own stores were dried up. He had opened his last bottle tonight and it had run out shortly after she had. His head soberly pounded with rage, with want. Without her.

If she found out, he was a dead man.

He grabbed an old globe with markings on it that looked nothing like Earth by the base and swung it into a grimy glass cabinet, shattering the doors and causing whatever was inside to crash to the ground. A plume of dust rose up and Draco repeated his action again and again until he was heaving down air and only holding the bronze base of what had once been the globe.

If he hadn't been drunk that night he would never have even let her undo his shirt, but Sweet Salazar did her soft little hands feel amazing on his chest. Their light touch at first, tracing the lines of his muscles until she slid a hand up into his hair, dragging her nails across his head and nearly making him say something he would have surely regretted in the morning.

He grabbed a flask twice as large as his head and threw it as far as he could, listening to the crash and tinkle of glass as it sprayed across the useless and forgotten objects stored in here over the centuries. Draco froze with an icy anger. She had been so soft, so warm in his arms. She had been his. His hands twitched at his sides, empty and cold. He had to get his hands on her again.

He should have lied when she asked him that. If he had, maybe she would trust him and then she wouldn't have been spooked tonight. Is that what he wanted? Granger to trust him? Why? So she would… like him? No. That's not what this was. This was nothing more than fucking the stupid little Mudblood who bossed everyone around and thought she was so much better than anyone else because she read some shit books and couldn't stop spewing off at the mouth about them every fucking chance she got.

God, he hated her. Hated that she was taking up so much of his time. Hated that he had come to a stand still on the Vanishing Cabinet and couldn't get anything animate through it. Hated that his Father was rotting away in a cell up North. Hated that his Mother was stuck in the Manor with only her deranged Sister and her family to talk to.

Hated the fucking mark on his arm that had made everything so damn complicated. Hated Dumbledore and his warm eyes that always seemed to find him. Did the old man know he was about to die? Did he think being nice was going to change the fact that Draco came back to Hogwarts with one intention this year and one intention only- Kill Albus Dumbledore.

But she had fucked it all up.

He grabbed a wingback chair and smashed it against the floor until it was just wooden shards and scraps of torn fabric. He stared down at the mess he had just made. He had thought about bending Granger over that chair more times than he could count over the past few months spent locked up in here. Her legs spread, stretching up to that cute little ass of hers. He could practically see her glancing over her shoulder at him through the thick curls with those fuck-me eyes…

"I could never trust you."

She was right. She couldn't trust him. He was a devious, cunning snake in the grass. And he planned to slither right back up her skirt the first chance he got. He had given her something no one else ever had and she had always come crawling back for more. She'd do that same again. Lust like they shared didn't just go away. Pumping blood, hot breaths, the deep scorching ache he felt every time she was even near him… It just didn't go away and neither was he.

Bitch was going to get what she deserved. And he was going to give it to her.

Hermione was up early. Surprising, really, when she only got about a total of two and half hours of sleep. She pulled the curtains around her bed and then sat on it, staring at them for, well, she wasn't sure how long, but long enough for her eyes to grow tired and out of focus.

Last night had been… intense. Drunk Malfoy was nothing like she had thought he would be. Mercurial, changing from a sly smile to a spitting snake in seconds. That was it. He had been drunk. He hadn't meant what he had said about her being… his. And the look in his eyes, so… possessive and so clear, he hadn't been trying to hide it at all in the moment. Had he meant it?

She hung her head in her hands and sat on her bed. The same thoughts that had plagued her all night had not disappeared with the rosy morning light. Her coffee colored curls were more tangled than usual since she had tossed and turned all night and she tried to run her fingers through them, but stopped when she remembered the feel of Malfoy's silky hair.

It wouldn't be this hard if being with him wasn't so… great. There was no way around it; being with Malfoy made her feel warm and alight and alive. Not just the sex either, although that was a part of it, but being around him was… entertaining in a way. She had started to enjoy their bickering and last night was extremely interested in hearing his views on Muggleborns. Not that she thought they were correct in any way, but just hearing his side was strangely fascinating to her.

If he really believed that for those reasons, she was sure she could show him the flaws in that line of thinking.

What was she doing?! Why did she care about changing Malfoy's mind? He would never see her any differently and even if he did, they still were entirely two different people and would never be able to be… friends. Did she even want to be friends with him? Especially after last night… Ugh, what was this?

She took a deep breath and came at the problem the same way she came at her Arithmancy problems when she was stuck. Go back to the beginning and approach it from a different angle.

She didn't want to be friends with him. She didn't want any kind of relationship with him. After all, she couldn't trust him. And he did believe those things he said about Muggleborns. She had always known this about him; knew he was a cold, selfish person who only cared about himself. If he had his way, she would never have been accepted into Hogwarts and never learned about her magic. It would have withered and faded over the years and eventually turned dormant. Gone. Just like he wanted her to be.

There was no point in trying to discuss it further; Malfoy was a stubborn ass who wouldn't even entertain the idea of an open and honest discussion about Purebloods and Muggleborns even if she asked him to have one with her. They couldn't even talk to each other for more than ten minutes without fighting or-

She closed her eyes and swallowed, trying to slow the stem of thoughts that were spilling over into every corner of her mind. Something had changed after she had sex with him. Something had changed in her, in him, and in between them. She curled her legs up around her and bit her lip in thought. She didn't care that much about her reputation, but it would be ruined if anyone had found out about her and Malfoy. She had seen the way people talked about the other girls he had… experiences with. When Harry had heard the rumor about him and Cho, even after they had broken up, the shaky friendship they were trying to salvage had fallen apart.

Would he do the same thing to her if he found out?

She had already lost Ron, she couldn't lose Harry too. Harry had been one of the few people who had been nice to her when she first arrived. Ron, not so much, but after the troll on Halloween they had quickly all become inseparable. Now in their Sixth year, Ron wasn't speaking to her and Harry was obsessed with his book and his theory about Malfoy and she was… sleeping with him. Hermione hung her head.

"Don't take it off." His voice sounded in her head and she felt the coolness of his skin on her palms once more. Was there a reason why he hadn't wanted her to take his shirt off? Was that another one of his control games? Get her naked, but stay dressed?

He had chastised her about touching him in the past and those were merely accidents. Now that she thought about it he had only ever dropped his trousers low enough to take himself out and had never bared any more of his skin to her than necessary. Until last night. Something had been changed between them for sure.

"Mudblood whore."

Of course. He still saw her as dirty, disgusting, low. He had said it to her face last night and even that hadn't stopped her. He had called her plenty of names in their encounters before and she had even liked it some of the time, but that had been different. These words had been full of the same venom he had spat at her back in their earlier years at school; there had been no underlying playfulness or even an endearing edge to his tone. Hermione groaned. What was wrong with her?

"Hermione!" Ginny burst through the dormitory door and her head shot up right before she ripped the curtains back from around Hermione's bed.

Ginny's face was pale and her eyes were wide and wild.

"What's happened?" Hermione jumped up. "What's wrong?" Was it Harry? Was he alright? Was it… Voldemort?

"It's Ron," She choked out. Hermione's blood froze in her veins. "He's in the hospital wing."

She glanced over at Lavender's still sleeping form, curly blonde hair spilled out around her serene face. She paused, for only a moment. Lavender was his girlfriend, she would want to know that her boyfriend was sick or wounded or whatever had happened to Ron. If their places were switched, Hermione would have wanted to know.

She turned back to Ginny and grabbed a neatly folded jumper off of the dresser beside her.

"Let's go."

If Malfoy had regretted anything that he had said or did that night in the Restricted Section he made no indication of it. It seemed that he had completely returned to form and Hermione watched as he joked and laughed with Nott, Crabbe and Goyle trailing behind him like always. He hadn't even spared one glance in her direction, let alone try and apologize for his behavior. Not that she was around too much for him to even see her reaction. Hermione was spending most of her free time darting back and forth from the Hospital wing checking in on Ron.

Seeing him, lying there, bloodless with barely even shallow breaths passing between his pale lips had wrenched her heartstrings hard enough that the anger and resentment she had towards him melted into the background. She had thought she had lost Ron when he had chosen Lavender over her, but this time, she had actually almost lost him, for good.

"Hermione," Ron croaked as he pushed himself up slightly.

"Please, don't get up," She said quickly and reached behind him to fluff his pillow before he sank back down on it, a small smile on his still pale face. "How are you today?" She asked as she gently sat down on the side of his bed.

"Better, I think," He cleared his throat and Hermione played with her hands in her lap. Then his hand landed on top of hers. "Hermione, I wanted to-"

"I did your assignments for you," She mumbled quickly, feeling emotions well up in her.

"What? Wow. Really?" Ron asked in disbelief. "You didn't have to do that. I mean, I'm pretty sure the professors will understand if I'm a bit behind, being poisoned and all." He gave a small laugh but stopped when he saw the expression on her face.

"Well," She continued on, pulling a neat stack of parchment out of her bag. "You would have had to do them at some point, I know you're already behind. It'll be hard enough jumping back into lessons having missed so much so I-"

"I have." Ron said seriously and she glanced back at his clear blue eyes. "Missed so much."

Hermione breathed in a large breath and held it for a moment.

"It's nothing," She mumbled and began picking at her nails again.

"Oh. Okay." Ron said and leaned back.

She wanted to say something, but she wasn't sure what. She hadn't let herself deal with her feelings about Ron over the last few months, instead throwing herself into research for Harry, her coursework, and of course, Malfoy. Absentmindedly she touched the spot on her neck. It was healing, but slower than she'd like. He had done that on purpose, to mark her.

"I should go," She stood up.

"Already?" Ron asked, his brows pulling together a little.

"I've got three pages of Runes to translate and-"

"That won't take you any time at all." Ron smiled warmly up at her and Hermione bit her lip to keep from smiling back at him.

Ron coughed again and shifted in the bed, adjusting the covers over him.

"Plus, I have two essays for Snape to write," She added.

"Two?" Ron asked. "He must be mad assigning two essays at the same… Oh." The rush of red flew up his neck, over his cheeks, and to the tips of his ears. She had forgotten how cute it was when he blushed.

"Don't worry, I've already got mine mostly done." She let the smile onto her face this time.

"Of course you do, Hermione," Ron leaned back into his pillow. "You'll never change, will you?"

Her smile faltered and fell.

"You know me," She said with a shrug and then grabbed her bag, making sure to place it on her good shoulder, the one without Malfoy's imprint on her skin, and made her way out of the Hospital wing.

"What are you two up to?" Hermione sat down next to Harry and Ginny on the squishy couch in front of the fireplace. After completing all her assignments for the week along with Ron's this evening, she decided to take a break and try and take her mind off of all of the heavy thoughts weighing her down.

"Talking about Malfoy," Harry answered quickly.

Well, there went her relaxing evening with her two friends.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I've been watching him on the Map and it's the weirdest thing- What? Hermione, are you okay?" Harry asked her.

"What?" She asked breathlessly. "What? Yeah, fine… I'm fine." She quickly tried to adjust her expression and hoped that Harry and Ginny could not hear her heart hammering in her chest. Had Harry seen her with him on the Map? Oh God, if he had…

"Gin," Dean's voice sounded from the other side of the common room where he and Seamus were playing chess. "Come hang out with me."

"I'm busy right now," Ginny said and tossed her long hair over her shoulder. Hermione noticed the corner of Harry's mouth tug a little.

Dean's dark eyes moved from her to Harry and back. "Come on, I'm loosing, I need my good luck charm." He forced a smile onto his face.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "He's losing because he's a bloody awful chess player, not that I'm his good luck charm," She muttered as she stood up. "Talk later, Hermione?" She asked and walked over to Dean and Seamus. Dean pulled her onto his lap and lifted up his castle and had her kiss it before he placed it down on the board.

Hermione could almost feel the shift in Harry's demeanor as he quietly turned back around and stared down at the Map.

"She told me he's on her last nerve," Hermione whispered to him.

Harry gave her a half smile and adjusted his glasses. "Mine too," he muttered.

Hermione squeezed his hand in solidarity. "Tell me about Malfoy." She summoned the courage to say. Godric knew she didn't want to talk about him, but if it stopped Harry from brooding any more than he already did, then she would. She loved Harry and couldn't help but want to know about what he had seen on the Map. Maybe it was better that they were having this conversation on their own, just in case.

"Sometimes he just… disappears. Like he's gone. I don't know how he's doing it." Harry said, the frustration clear in his voice.

"Gone?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, I can't imagine he's leaving the school, but I'll search the whole map over and he's nowhere to be found."

"Is he on there now?" Hermione hated herself for asking, but she had to admit, she was a little curious about what Malfoy was up to.

"Yeah, here." Harry pointed to a classroom on the fourth floor. A small dot with the label Draco Malfoy was standing almost on top of another dot labeled Pansy Parkinson. Hermione's heart dropped to her feet. She hadn't given much thought to Malfoy moving back to other girls, but having to see it so blatantly in front of her was oddly upsetting.

"Have they… been there long?" Why was her mouth so suddenly dry?

"Twenty minutes or so," He shrugged. "Look, Lavender's in the Hospital wing with Ron. Hopefully he's not pretending to be asleep this time. She's driving me crazy asking about him. Between him and McLaggen bugging me about Quidditch-"

Hermione didn't hear what he was saying. Lavender was visiting Ron, their dots almost as close as Malfoy's and Pansy's were. How had she gotten herself into this mess? Her chest ached with all the emotions rolling through it and she sighed heavily.

"-He's got to be. No other option at this point," Harry went on.

"What?"

"Look, I know you don't think so, but how else would he be able to fool the Map without using some sort of Dark Magic?" Harry cleared the Map and folded it back. "Malfoy's a Death Eater, I'm telling you."

"Harry," Hermione's shoulders slumped.

"Okay then what's your theory?" He retorted. "If yours is better than mine, then I'll drop it." He stared at her with earnest green eyes, almost pleading with her to believe him.

"I… I don't have one!" Hermione said. "I just don't think that You-Know-Who would induct a sixteen year old boy," There was nothing left of a boy in Malfoy and she knew it, "Into the ranks of his followers. I just don't see it happening!"

"You don't know him like I do," Harry grumbled and turned to face the fire, staring into it with a dark expression.

Hermione moved closer to him. "Harry, are you having the dreams again?"

"Doesn't matter," He mumbled and tucked the map into his pocket. "Would you even believe me if I said I was?"

"Of course!" Hermione grabbed his hand and his expression softened a little. "Harry, I… I believe you. I believe in you. I just don't believe that Draco Malfoy is a Death Eater. It has nothing to do with you."

Harry looked over at her and the darkness on his face faded as the warm light of the fire reflected off his glasses.

"Thanks, Hermione," He sighed and wrapped his arm around her. "Sorry I've been so… crazy lately. You know how I get."

"Yeah, I do," Hermione laughed a little and relaxed back into the couch with him. "But you've got to remember, we're on your side."

"We?" Harry asked and looked down at her.

"Yeah, Ron and I." Something sparked in Harry's emerald eyes and she saw the corner of his mouth tug again. "Both of us. We'll always be with you."

"Thanks." Harry smiled and Hermione returned it warmly. "Hey, have you finished the Herbology essay?" She nodded. "Think you can help me with mine?"

Draco roared and threw the bottle of Butterbeer against the Vanishing Cabinet sending flecks of white foam all over it as the golden liquid ran down the dark wood and dripped thick drops onto the floor. It was all he could get right now, but it wasn't enough. He needed something stronger. He needed…

No.

She was still being an uptight little bitch and he wasn't going to be the one to grovel first. Sure, he'd say what he needed to say to get back in between her thighs, but she had to come to him. He ran his hand through his white blonde hair and closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing.

One.

Two.

Three.

Three breaths, just like his Mother had taught him. His face relaxed, but the tension was still there just under the surface. His shoulders lowered, but the muscles were still tight and he could feel his blood moving through him at a faster pace than normal. After another moment he felt it start to slow as well.

His Mother had taught him at an early age how to control himself. She had to, least he throw a fit in front of his Father and bring on his wrath. They always had to be on their best behavior in front of him, both of them.

She would spend hours with tailors, dressing him in the finest garments just for a dinner for the three of them. Draco learned etiquette and manners; he learned their family history and Pureblood traditions so that he would be a fitting son to his Father. But nothing he had ever done had been good enough for Lucius Malfoy. So he had to fix this Cabinet, he had to. If he did this, then the Dark Lord would allow his Father to come home and finally, he might be able to see pride gleam in his Father's pale grey eyes.

But what would he be coming home to? Bellatrix, Rodolphus, and Rabastan had been pushing their limits when he was at home over break and he could only assume it had gotten worse over the past couple of months. His Mother's letters never mentioned them, but her terseness in them let him know that all was not well in Malfoy Manor.

He wondered if his Aunt had told his Mother what he had done Christmas night. He tried not to think about it. Tried not to picture that Muggle family's faces as the children cried and tried to hide behind their Mother while their Father screamed and twitched in agony in front of them.

Bellatrix had said he had done well.

Draco rubbed his eyes and leaned his head against the Vanishing Cabinet. The more stressed he became over the Cabinet and his task, the less he was able to block out the memories of his… training. And without Granger as a distraction, they were creeping back in steadily.

Bellatrix had set the Muggle family's Christmas tree on fire, letting it burn while she cackled and the curtains caught. The Mother tried to comfort the children, but they screamed and clung to her as Rabastan hauled her away into one of the rooms, laughing sickly and slamming the door behind him. It hadn't mattered; they all heard her screaming anyways.

Draco had remembered his Mother's lessons well that night, keeping his face apathetic and his eyes cold as he watched the blood begin to trickle out of the man's ears and mouth. The screams had stopped two Crucios ago.

"I will tell the Dark Lord of your commitment to the cause," His Uncle had said as a heavy hand rested on Draco's shoulder, his wand still pointed at the ruined man. It took everything he had not to throw his Uncle's hand off of him. His Aunt danced in front of the flames, spinning and turning, her twisted curls fanning out around her as she kicked a porcelain angel that had fallen to the floor.

"What about them?" Draco nodded in the direction of the two small children huddled together with wide, wet faces.

"Who cares?" Bellatrix sneered and spat on the floor in front of them.

Rabastan walked out of the room as the fire began to spread, sighing happily and fixing his robes back over himself. "Merlin, thought she'd never stop crying. Had to shut her up the old fashioned way." He wiped a bloody hand on his black robes. Rodolphus shared a low dark laugh with his Brother, but Draco could not find it in himself to join in.

"Let's go," Rodolphus waved his hand in front of his face, dispelling the smoke that was gathering there.

Draco followed them out of the house. He did not look back to see if the children had moved from their huddled position on the floor. If he didn't know then he could pretend that they all got out before the flames spread, but he had felt the heat on his back as they walked away. He knew.

He swallowed down the awful sick feeling inside of him. The burning ache on his arm seemed to intensify for a moment, but he knew it was just because he was concentrating on it. He had felt the Dark Lord call him once after he took the mark and that pain was unable to be ignored. This pain was of his own making.

He just had to fix the Cabinet. Once he did that, he could complete his task and make a quick get away through it. He would report to his Master and tell him of the success of his plan and then… What? He would still be bound to him, his will. He would still be a Death Eater, torturing and killing… It would not end, it was just beginning.

And once Dumbledore was dead it wouldn't be long before the Dark Lord began making moves. He had spoken of reforming the Ministry and rounding up Mudbloods into prisons for trials and sentencing. Sentencing for what? Why not snap their wands, obliviate them, and send them back to the Muggles they came from? Draco shook his head; he couldn't think like that. They were Mudbloods and had to be punished for that reason. Because it was what the Dark Lord commanded. Because it's what they deserved.

What would happen to Granger? Surely she would fight with the Order. Would she be killed in battle or one of the ones rounded up and confined in cages? He pictured Granger's toffee curls matted with dirt and blood and her big brown eyes hollowed and scared as she looked up at him through iron bars. Could he just… leave her to her fate? Or would he try and do something?

Would she even let him?

Of course not. She didn't trust him. The image of Granger's pale face twisted and changed to the same wary look she had in the Restricted Section. He closed his eyes, pushing the dark thoughts from his mind. He had enough to deal with right now without worrying about what was going to happen to Granger once he murdered Dumbledore and unleashed his Lord on the world.

If he had just kept his fucking mouth shut she'd be on her knees for him right now but instead he had lashed out at her, wanting to hurt her like she- No. Granger had not hurt him. Granger had… Draco sighed. What had she done to him?

It took everything in him to not to stare at her the past few days. Her quick pace as she made she made her way between classes only made him think about how fucking soft her thighs were under that long skirt. The look of determination on her face as she furiously took notes on things she already knew just made him want to sink himself back into her and watch as her eyes widened and her mouth opened as she came underneath him.

How she could look like some innocent little nerdy girl when he knew the sound of her moan intimately was nothing less than shocking. If other guys knew what an absolute dish she was under her oversized sweaters he would have to curse each and every one of them to keep them off of her. Because she was his. He had taken her and had no plans of giving her up.

Sweet Salazar, he was a wreck.

Fuck it. It was useless. She was too bloody proud and stubborn to come to him. Her fucking Gryffindor pride would never let her crawl back to him after what he had said to her. Why had that bothered him so much, the fact that she didn't trust him? So fucking what? Why should he care that the warm cinnamon in her eyes had flashed brightly then dimmed the moment he had called her a Mudblood whore. He had said worse to her before, hadn't he? But that had been before… As much as he didn't want to admit it, things were different now.

Draco clenched his jaw. Her admission that she could never trust him had wounded something inside of him. What the fuck was that? He thought he had dealt with his little 'feelings' issue by dismissing it as a confused sense of lust for the girl. Mudblood. For the Mudblood.

He had tried to replace her, but fire whisky didn't burn half as sweet as she did. Hell, he had even thought about fucking Pansy again just to try and get some relief but she wouldn't stop pestering him about his mystery girl. One slip up in front of Blaise and he spread the gossip worse than his Mother's catty friends.

He sank down to the floor, not caring that he was sitting in spilled Butterbeer and pulled another one out, cracking it open and downing half the bottle as quickly as he could. It wasn't fire whisky, but it was better than nothing.

Because without Granger, that's all he had left. Nothing.

She was running down the dark hallway, Ron was right behind her.

"Go! Go, Hermione, go!" He shouted, urging her on. "There!" He pointed to a door and they ducked inside.

"Where's Harry?" Hermione asked breathlessly.

"I don't know," Ron muttered darkly. "But we need to get out of here."

She could hear thundering footsteps coming from the door they had just run through. She tried to raise her wand to seal it, but her body was moving too slow.

Three Death Eaters burst in, black robes whipping around them and cruel metal masks over their faces.

"There they are!" One of the Death Eaters yelled.

"RUN!" Ron bellowed and grabbed her by the arm, hauling her up with him as they dodged streaming curses around them.

"Ron!" Hermione yelled as he tripped and fell.

"Go Hermione!" He yelled, trying to push himself up. "Get out of here!"

Hermione ran. She was running and running and running, but had no idea where to. She couldn't hear anything but her labored breathing. Suddenly, she was in a different room. This one had small little paths through towers of random objects, towering up into a high ceiling. Sheets covered what must have been old furniture and dust laid thickly on odd objects, haphazardly thrown onto tables, shelves, or stacked in piles.

"Ron?" She called out, slowing down. "Ron, where are you?"

No answer. Hermione wandered down one of the narrow paths, glancing around quickly for any sign of friend or foe.

Someone grabbed her from behind, pinning her arms to her side with their strong arms. Hermione struggled against them, but they only held her tighter, pulling her against their solid body. Hermione looked over her shoulder to see a cold unfeeling mask staring back at her.

She gasped. In the mask were a pair of deep silver eyes.

"Mine."

"What are you doing up here?" Luna's dreamy voice interrupted Hermione's thoughts.

"What?" She spun quickly and saw the pale gold of Luna's hair before her large luminous eyes met her gaze with a strange hold in them. "Oh, just… couldn't sleep."

Luna nodded as if it was the most normal thing in the world to wander the Astronomy tower before dawn.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked, trying to break the silence.

"I like to watch the sunrise," Luna said softly, placing her hands on the railing and breathing deeply. "Smells nice."

"The sunrise?" Hermione asked.

Luna nodded again, her long blonde hair moving slightly with her. Hermione tried to smell anything, but only the crisp cool air met her. Something tightened in her stomach. Nerves, maybe? More like… anticipation.

"Why couldn't you sleep?" Luna asked her, looking out over the grounds.

Hermione shifted on her feet slightly. "Dreams." She didn't really talk about the nightmares she had about the Department of Mysteries. She didn't want anyone to think less of her. Although she knew they would deny it, it still worried her. Harry was so brave and Ron was full of heart… They had no problem throwing themselves into the fight. "Nightmares, actually."

Luna stared at her with her wide eyes, knowing without having to be told.

"Watching the sun rise is the best way to start a day. Especially after a night of bad dreams."

Hermione sighed and moved to stand beside Luna, gazing out over the dark grounds. This dream had upset her in a different way though. She knew those eyes, she knew that voice. But it was just a dream.

She had woken up to a glaring Lavender. Knowing she must have been calling Ron's name again, Hermione quickly dressed and made her way out of the dormitory. It wasn't uncommon for her to get up before the sun, oftentimes visiting the Library in the early hours of the morning. But she knew she couldn't keep distracting herself with books and research forever, she was going to have to deal with these thoughts soon.

"Do you ever do anything… bad?" Hermione found herself asking.

Luna smiled a little. "Sometimes I take food from the Great Hall and feed the Grindylows in the Lake."

Hermione let out a low breath. "I mean something that you know is wrong, but do it anyways."

"Why is it wrong?" Luna asked.

Hermione paused. Why was this wrong? Because it was with Malfoy, that's why. "Because if people I care about found out, it would hurt them that I did it."

Luna twisted her lips in thought and stared out over the grounds for a few long moments. "But it's a good thing for you?"

Hermione was thrown off by the question, but knew the answer. "Yes. It's good for me. At least, I think so."

"Well if the people you care about care about you too, then they should understand."

"You make it sound so simple," Hermione gave a dry laugh.

Luna shrugged. "Maybe it is."

"Then why does it feel so complicated?" Hermione leaned down on the railing.

Luna copied her. "You have a lot of thoughts up there, Hermione." Luna said in her dreamy voice. "It must get very busy. Very lonely too."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat. Luna never ceased to amaze her with her skills of perception.

"Sometimes," She mumbled. Without Malfoy she didn't know how she would have gotten through the past few months.

"And this bad thing, it makes you less lonely?"

"Yes." Hermione whispered.

"Then it's not all bad." Luna concluded. "Oh look, there it is." Her voice drifted into the distance and Hermione looked where Luna was pointing.

Over the Lake, the first rosy rays of the sun began to rise.

Hermione hurried down the corridor. It was late. She had spent too long in the Hospital wing with Ron, but he had looked so disappointed when she had gotten up to leave that she tried to forget that he was still with Lavender for a little while longer and stayed with him until Madam Pomfrey ushered her out.

Normally she was in bed at this point, but instead she was rushing to the Prefect's bath walking as quickly as she could. She was surprised when she heard Pansy's bark-like laugh coming from inside and quickly ducked around a suit or armor, not wanting a confrontation with her right now.

"We should do that more often," A male voice said and Pansy giggled. "Especially now that I don't have to share you with Draco anymore."

"Draco," Pansy huffed. "Thinks he can do better than me? Right. I'm the only girl who knows who to handle him the way he wants to be handled." There was an uncomfortably silence in which Hermione did her best not to let her imagination get away from her. "Theo, don't pout."

She heard him huff angrily. Theo… Theodore Nott; that's who the male voice must belong to.

"What, are you jealous?"

Hermione fought the turning in her stomach at Pansy's saccharine tone.

"Like you aren't?" Nott countered. "Draco's all wrapped up in his mystery girl according to Blaise and I heard he tossed you aside.

"He'll be back." Pansy snapped. "He always comes back. We had a fight, yes, but… I know what he likes."

"Yeah? And what about me?" Nott said in a low voice.

"I know what you like too," Pansy said softly and Hermione gagged at the wet noises of their kiss.

"Come on, let's get back so I can fuck you in the bed next to his. See how Draco likes hearing you call out my name instead of his."

They laughed together and passed by her without noticing her tucked away, clutching her change of clothes up to her chest. Once they were far enough away Hermione stepped out from behind the suit of armor and made her way to the Prefect's bath and ducked inside quickly.

She let her mind fill with thoughts as the large tub filled with warm water and opalescent bubbles.

That's what she must have seen on the Marauder's Map when Malfoy and Pansy's dots had been in that classroom together, their fight. About his mystery girl. He had mentioned that he talked when he drank and he might have let something slip about her… but they clearly had no indication who his mystery girl was and for that Hermione sent up a silent prayer of thanks as she ran her hand over the warm water, testing it before stepping in.

Just because Malfoy wasn't sleeping with Pansy didn't change anything. He had still said those terrible, hurtful things to her and then… Hermione's mind spun furiously. He had been almost friendly, or as friendly as Malfoy got, before she had had that she didn't trust him. Was there something else going on with him?

Hermione dipped her head under the water and let herself submerge in it, the warmth covering her and seeping into her slowly before she broke the surface, pushing her waterlogged curls back out of her face. Why did it matter if there was something else going on with Malfoy? Why should she care? He was rude and horrid. He was a Purist who would see her cast out of wizarding society in a heartbeat.

Not to mention he might be a Death Eater. Not now at least, but someday. Although, Harry had been right about things like this in the past… Still, having sex with Draco Malfoy was bad enough. She didn't think she could face herself if she had sex with a Death Eater too. It was unimaginable.

The warm water was so relaxing the bubbles smelled like freshly picked lavender. Hermione felt herself begin to relax. She sat on the small seat in the large bath and leaned her head back, resting it on the cool floor behind her. She had been so tense this week, what with worrying about Ron and doing two loads of coursework. Not to mention that Ginny had come into her room crying because she and Dean had fought again and Hermione spent half the night consoling her friend.

She wished she had some sort of outlet. Harry, Ron, and Ginny all had Qudditch to throw themselves into when they were stressed and they always came back from practice smiling easier and laughing louder. She had something like that, for a while, with Malfoy. But she had promised herself that she was done with that now.

Even if it had been wrong it had felt so good. And maybe like Lunda said, it wasn't all bad. Hermione's hand moved over her stomach and she felt a familiar clenching inside of her. It wasn't wrong if she was doing it to herself, even if she was thinking of him. After all, it was the only experience she had to draw on.

"Means your mine."

Her fingers started off slow but quickly gained speed as she replayed how Malfoy had touched her over and over. She bit down on her lip, remembering how he had taken it in his teeth and pulled until she whimpered, how he had grabbed it and told her to behave.

She swallowed hard and moved her hand faster. His hand had been rough coming down on her, smacking her ass over and over until she had cried out for him, but still wanted more.

"Your pussy feels so good."

It was like he was speaking the words right into her again with his deep voice, hoarse yet still commanding. Always in control, always in charge. She liked that. She needed that. And it did feel so good. She bit back a moan and her back arched up a little. It was good, but she liked his hand better.

"My fingers or my cock? Which did you miss more?"

The water splashed around her neck, lapping gently at the mark he had left that was still healing. She wished she could have felt him inside her one more time. Maybe they were alike, he had fit so well.

"My little Gryffindor kitten."

She bit her lip harder, trying to keep her noises in but her breathing was already labored and a small high-pitched moan escaped her. She wanted to run her hands over his chest again, feel those marble carved muscles under her fingers and then run them up his shoulders and into his hair to make him groan like she had before. She wanted to pull him down on top of her as he sunk himself deep inside, filling her, giving her everything, everything she so desperately wanted.

"Draco…" She moaned out as she came and gasped, open mouthed, trying to fill her chest with air as it rippled through her.

She didn't feel as satisfied as when he had done it to her, but she had made up her mind. She was never going to have him again and so this is what she was left with. It wasn't the same, but it was something.

Eventually Hermione lifted herself from the pearl like bubbles and warm water and toweled off. She walked into the changing room and padded over to the cabinet she had placed her clothes in. Waving her wand, the door opened for her and she reached in.

Her hand stopped mid air.

On top of her clothes were a pair of white cotton knickers. She opened her tawny eyes wide as her hands moved on the own accord, picking them up. They were hers. From that night. She turned them over and something cold and simultaneously hot passed from the top of her head to the tip of her toes.

Written on the back of them in stark black ink was a single word: "Mine."

A/N: Thank you everyone who reviewed! I love hearing your feedback and they inspire me so much. I am going to try and start updating weekly if I can. It might be a little tricky with the holidays so you might have to bear with me a little.

xx, Ik.