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Draco was having a crisis. A moment of regret and complication in his otherwise ridged life. Okay, many moments. They all centered around a pissed off, hellcat of a witch.

It had been so easy to just slip into what she needed, what she wanted. He had never considered that he wanted to be needed until he experienced it. Hell, he hadn't even realized it while it was happening. It wasn't until the very end, his hand stroking over her injured flesh and resisting the urge to heal and praise her, that it occurred to him that he wasn't supposed to be the sort of man to care about that sort of thing. That wasn't how their deal worked.

Draco's hand shook as he pushed his hair back under the spray, mindful of the possessive mark etched into his neck. It burned like hell every time he moved but it just echoed a sense of longing through him.

He had ignored the alarm bells screaming in his head earlier and was now paying the price. Guilt swam in his lungs, choking his breathing and blurring his mind. It wasn't that he hurt her. Bloody hell, she loved to be hurt and some dark, viscous part of him would never turn down the chance to inflict pain. Not when her cries of pleasure begged for more, like she was broken in a way that let him ignore his own cracks.

The issue was the fucking knot that formed in his throat when she fell to the ground crying. It was how quickly his anger bled away when her own flared in a feral beauty that took his breath away. It was how his hands ran down her arm trying to comfort her when he hadn't consciously told them to. The second his magic touched her she was no longer Granger, who faded like a winter flower if he wasn't paying enough attention to drag her away for a rough fuck.

She was an angry, hurt witch, who had given everything to save the world from people like him and had still ended up losing. With her collapsed on the floor this didn't feel like a favor or a penance. It felt a-fucking-lot like concern.

"Shite," he muttered.

He shut off the water with a frown, hating himself for taking advantage. For listening to her when she told him to take control. She had asked for help and he had viciously fucked her because he was an emotionally stunted child with no idea what else to do. He could have gotten someone, anyone. Okay maybe not Potter or Weasley but it was fucking Granger. He probably could close his eyes, throw a rock, and still hit someone who cared about her. Instead when she told him she needed him to make it all go away his mind roared whispering the vile things he wished he could do to her. That she was asking him to do to her.

Cherry red welts across her perfect arse flashed through his mind. He didn't even have the decency to heal them for her and he doubted she'd ever ask for the help. He didn't doubt for a moment that she would keep her word and just suffer through the pain, ever the martyr.

Draco stepped out of the shower, catching his reflection in the mirror. He had gained weight since coming back to school, finally filling out the old robes that he hadn't bothered replacing. His hair looked less lank and his face less harsh and more angular. His mother would no doubt remark on it in a couple of weeks when he went home for the holidays, pleased with his apparent turn in health. If only she knew the cause of it...

Draco caught sight of the already-bruising mark high on his neck. He pulled his wand from the counter, poised to apply a heavy glamour until he could get ahold of some healing cream from Theo. Watching the action in the mirror he paused, his eyes glued to the white of his wand against the berry red of the bruise. Almost hesitantly he pulled away, surprised by his own thoughts.

It wasn't fair, that he could vanish all evidence of her rage when she could not. That he was one of the people who created the world that she had so hated in the past and gotten away with it while she still suffered in the present. Even though Draco had never been concerned about what was 'fair' or 'just', this was the least he could give her. To let her know she had hurt him, even if it wasn't half the damage he had done to her.

He quickly got dressed and fell into bed. She was in his head now, a virulent disease eating away at him. Separation was key… and time. Thankfully, he had the rest of the weekend to try to figure out how his penance had become so personal.

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By the time Monday rolled around Hermione was much calmer. Thankfully, Malfoy had been hiding somewhere where he couldn't distract her with contradictions that made no sense. Ron was prodded into an apology by Ginny and Hermione forgave him readily under the condition that he accept hers as well.

It wasn't until he pulled her aside on Monday morning that she realized why he had been so upset.

"Did it have to be Nott?" Ron asked on their way to breakfast. His shoulders rolled in a defeated sort of anger she had grown used to over the years. Not close enough to risk an explosion but still not safe to prod.

"I'm sorry, Ron," she said. "I don't quite understand what you mean."

He stopped them short of the Great Hall, remaining silent until a contingency of Ravenclaw third years cleared out of the hall. The tips of his ears flushed red as he muttered to himself. Normally she would just demand he spit it out, but she was still coming down off the high from a few days ago. So instead she just waited, letting him work through his words. Eventually he sighed, fiddling with what she now knew was a packet of cigarettes in his pocket.

"Nott," Ron said finally, looking at her as blankly as he could. Unfortunately in Ron's case it made him appear like he was about to be sick. "You and him?"

"What about me and him?" Hermione asked, cocking her head to the side as she tried to parse out his meaning. Ron took another deep breath.

"You're a… thing." His face flushed bright red as he looked away, waving his hands in the general direction of her legs. It took her a moment to connect the dots, and when she did a bright laugher bubbled up from her chest.

"Merlin! No!" Her laughter only grew in the apparent relief on his face. "We're just friends you goof!"

"Well what was I supposed to think!" Ron sighed in relief. After a moment he pinned her with a glare. "You wouldn't lie to me about this, right? Cause I can be totally... okay with it... eventually."

"Of course not!" Hermione managed to choke out through heaving breaths.

"Thank Godric. I don't know what I'd do if you had hooked up with some Death Eater and I had to sit through Christmas dinner with him or something." Ron's obvious relief killed her humor instantly. She regained control of herself and narrowed her eyes at him.

"Theo is not a Death Eater."

"Well not anymore obviously-"

"No," Hermione snapped. "He never was. He doesn't have a mark and he never subscribed to the beliefs."

"But his father-"

"Are you like your father?" Hermione questioned. There was absolutely nothing wrong with Arthur, but Ron most certainly lacked his father's general affability and innate curiousness.

"No," Ron mumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets. After a second of awkward silence he glanced up with a sigh. "Fine. Whatever. You'll just be careful?"

"I don't need-"

"I know you don't need looking after." He cut her off before her anger could rise. "But please be careful 'Mione. I just worry. Blame mum. She's rubbed off on me."

In the face of his awkward smile she couldn't stay mad. Instead she rolled her eyes and smiled indulgently.

"Okay mum . I'll keep an eye out for Theo torturing some hapless first years." Ron's smile disappeared as soon as the words were out of her mouth. Her's did too.

"Sorry," she mumbled awkwardly.

"You've been spending too much time with Dean," Ron grumbled before turning away from the hall. "Go on, I'll be there in ten."

"Where are you-" She cut herself off with a frown when he tapped the square imprint in his pocket with a lazy grin.

"Two points from Gryffindor," she grumbled, ignoring his laugh.

She stomped into the Great Hall in a huff, mostly played up for Ron's benefit. As soon as he was out of sight she fell back into a happy pace. She paused as a flash of white blonde caught her eye at the Slytherin table. It was his first appearance since the weekend and Hermione couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit guilty. For that reason alone, she selected a seat next to Ginny facing away from the Slytherins.

"So you noticed it then?" Ginny asked, turning on Hermione in an electric whirl of auburn.

"Pardon?"

"Malfoy, obviously."

Hermione was relieved she hadn't poured her coffee yet otherwise she would have been spitting it out. Instead she simply scooped some eggs and tomatoes onto her plate. She forced a vaguely annoyed tone to her voice.

"Yes. He exists the last time I checked."

"No! His neck!" Lavender urged from across the table, her eyes shooting up in glee to look over Hermione's shoulder. Hermione's blanching was covered by Pavarti pinching at Lavender's arm.

"Stop it. He's looking!" Parvati said, trying to look natural.

Hermione had no qualms about her spying. Anything that would keep the table from noticing her suddenly bloodless face. She turned in her seat, glancing at the blonde just across the hall. His gaze met hers blandly, giving nothing away. After a moment he looked down at his plate, fiddling with his eggs with a frown. Hermione glanced down, unable to hide her gasp at deep purple bruise just below his jaw. There wasn't even a poorly executed glamor, he hadn't even tried.

"Sickening isn't it." Hermione turned back to Harry's voice, sitting unnoticed beside his girlfriend. "They have been nattering about it all morning."

Harry scowled as the gossiping wonder team flipped him two fingers before resuming their breakfast.

"Hermione, you left at the same time he did," Lavender urged, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

"What about it?"

"Well did you see anything?" Parvati continued. "Like someone else in the hall? Or where he had slipped off to?"

"I don't deign to pay attention to the likes of Malfoy," Hermione responded, poking at her food. She tried hopelessly to divert the conversation. "Must have been some fight."

"Yeah right," Dean snorted from down the table. "I have had my fair share of love bites and I can see that one from a mile away. Parkinson has been known to have a nasty temper."

She frowned but turned back and spotted the familiar black bob leaning far too closely to Malfoy for Hermione's liking. They had a deal and she trusted that he wouldn't take Pansy up on the offer, she just-

Blinking slowly, her previous thought played back again. She turned back to her food to digest the idea. She most certainly did not trust him… well… mostly. It was hard to argue that she didn't have some level of trust with their arrangement . You had to in their sort of situation. It was very… private. Intimate would be a word some used. It was only natural when one person was at the other's mercy so thoroughly.

And it wasn't really undeserved either. The only time she had ever felt truly in danger was in the bathroom that one time and even then when she made it clear that she wasn't playing around he backed off immediately. At the very least she could say she trusted him not to hurt her too much… more than she wanted… except when she asked. Ugh.

Merlin this was giving her a headache. As the argument continued she risked another glance over her shoulder. Where he usually met her gaze unquestioningly, he was surprisingly demure this morning. When he turned his head and winced she frowned. Guilt swam through her chest reminding her that he had never mentioned wanting to be on the receiving end of pain. But he could have just told her to stop. Sure he had pulled her away when he realized there would be a mark but he didn't leave . He-

It was at that moment Hermione realized he had never actually told her no to anything. Every time she wanted to do something to him or demanded something from him he always complied in the end. Sometimes after a frustrating amount of teasing. He had never really specified that he wanted any of this. As a matter of fact he made every interaction sound… well like a bit of a chore. She had just assumed he was toying with her, playing the part but… maybe, for whatever misguided reason, he didn't feel like he could tell her no. Maybe she was no better than Ron, assuming that Malfoy would have no qualms about hurting someone else. After all a chase through the halls was significantly lower key than what they just did.

For the first time real panic struck her. What if he hadn't liked any of this at all? He mentioned back in October noticing how out of sorts she was without him. What if he was only pulling her aside for her sake? What if, for one Merlin-bedamned-second, Malfoy had developed a conscience and was forcing himself to do this out of some level of duty and guilt to-

"Alright Hermione? You look a bit peaky." Ginny, poked her side drawing her out of the mild panic attack. She realized she had been staring so long that Malfoy had completely vacated his seat and disappeared from the hall, his breakfast only partially eaten.

"Fine," she said, feeling fear rolling just below the surface. "Just a bit tired."

The group around her nodded slowly, having heard that same excuse hundreds of times. By the time conversation picked back up Hermione's thoughts were whirling and she pushed away her uneaten breakfast. There was no room for it with the remorse pooling in her stomach.

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Hermione had finished the research portion of Harry's family tree. To be quite honest, she had taken most of the spellwork from the Black Family tapestry. Before it had been used as a display of disappointment and cruelty, it had been a beautiful piece of magic. This first one would be on parchment but she had hoped to eventually get a proper hanging to keep for posterity. She had looked earlier in the year but couldn't decide between velvet and linen. Harry seemed more like a linen sort of guy. Very simple. Not that Harry was-

"Hermione."

She swore under her breath as she set down the now dried quill in front of her. She had been doing it again. The first of the slips. Malfoy hadn't spoken, argued, kidnapped, or even looked at her all week. She had pushed him and was facing the consequences.

It was clear as day that he was swimming in regret. This time he didn't even glance at her occasionally. If she were braver, like she was supposed to be, she would force him into a broom closet and make him talk to her. But after the last time this happened with someone, she knew the best she could hope for was to let him come back on his own. Even if it meant silence. Even if it meant a return to-

"Hermione!"

The hiss pulled her out again, having sounded more annoyed the second time. She looked up, searching through the stacks for whoever was trying to grab her attention. It was a busy day at the library, students clustered all about. A group of fifth years had gathered to her right, studying for OWLs. Susan and Hannah snickered over something to her left (an action that would have gotten a firm reprimand from Madam Pince if she had not left for a bathroom break). And…. a flash of green and silver disappearing just behind a bookshelf.

Considering the fact that Malfoy was certainly not that stupid, she deduced that there was only one other Slytherin that would be trying to get her attention covertly. She waited patiently, her hands folded over the table in front of her. When he poked his head out and began to call her name again she projected her voice to the area around her.

"Her-"

"Theo Nott! I will not be going into the snogging stacks with you and I find it deplorable that you would suggest it"

He dove away from the shelves as if they were about to consume him, his face burning red as he glared at her. Almost instantly, a wave of whispers ascended around them and three people scurried out of the nearest exit.

He stomped over to her table and sat with a long suffering sigh. After a few minutes of being glared at she looked up from her book.

"You know just coming to sit at my table is a much less dramatic way to get my attention."

"Do you have any idea how many rumors you just started?"

"Who said they were rumors? You did offer to marry me."

"Are you taking me up on that?" His boyish grin was infectious.

"Of course not, but rumors can be useful."

"And how am I useful?"

"The rumors will help hide my secrets," she deadpanned.

He barked out a laugh, and leaned back in his chair. She had caught him multiple times in public, dragging him into conversation on homework and theory. He always responded but there was an air of caution to him. Like he thought she was going to pull the rug out from under him and it would all be some big joke. She thought he just needed a little push.

"Alright. Alright. For the sake of your secrets," he laughed.

"Not that I mind the company but did you need something?"

"Actually I-"

"Is someone giving you trouble? Who is it? Should I get-"

"Merlin Granger," Theo interrupted. "I'm fine alright. Don't go all Head Girl on me."

She waited for him to continue, noting the whispers dying down to a mere murmur. The news had already spread and would probably be hitting the common room by now. Not that they didn't already exist after her very public greeting in the Great Hall. More fuel for the fire she supposed.

"It's er… about a friend."

"Right…" she prompted. "A friend."

"I wanted to know if you've had any run-ins around the castle lately."

"Run-ins?"

"Yeah. Of the shouting or dueling sort?"

"That depends." She raised an eyebrow trying to figure out where he was going with this. "I yell at a lot of people."

"No, you wouldn't have done the yelling… more so been the target maybe… or perhaps not..."

When he looked up from picking at whorls on the table, his eyes seemed tired. Something was bothering him and had been for awhile. It had to be serious, considering how well he could pretend otherwise. She frowned, her instincts kicked in and she threw up a quick muffliato .

"What-"

"Silencing charm," she muttered. "Really Theo… are you okay?"

"I'm fi-"

"You can tell me. I wont judge you, I swear."

He tapped his nails against the wood. The sharp sound would have no doubt upset Madam Pince if she could hear. However, she just shot a suspicious look over at the two of them as she reentered the library.

Hermione read once about how open body language made people more open to you. She pulled back her shoulders and lifted her hands. She wasn't sure what position to put them in. The only open sort of motion she could make was a hug and that would be awkward… maybe?

"I'm concerned," Theo said.

"About?" she snapped, her temper flaring in response to the words.

"Malfoy."

And just like that her anger melted away. She hadn't forgotten her thoughts last week. That she had somehow broken the delicate balance they had achieved.

"Oh?"

"He's been-"

Upset. Hurt. Regretful. Can't barely stomach being in the same room as me?

"-Off lately."

"Off?" she asked. "In what way?

"Just… off."

"Right," she said. "And what do you expect me to do about this? Shouldn't you be talking to your Head of House or Prefects?"

Or anyone other than me.

"Granger, I know you don't get along but get your head out of your pretty little arse for a second," he snipped. "You're Head Girl, isn't it your responsibility to check in on students? I'm just asking you to listen"

"Fine," she huffed and crossed her arms. To hell with open body language. She would love to close out the conversation. If only she could block out the slimy feeling in her chest.

"He's been quiet," Theo continued. "Doesn't leave the room to do anything other than go to class. He's not really eating… or sleeping I think."

"Okay," Hermione responded.

Your fault.

"He barely speaks to anyone and constantly spaces out… He hasn't looked this bad since fifth year."

Because of you.

"Get to the point Theo," she snapped, not needing any more things to feel responsible for.

"He's guilty."

She blinked owlishly at him.

"He has a lot to be guilty about," she mumbled. "I don't see what this has to do with me?"

"No this is- ugh," Theo, groaned and tilted his head back. "Aren't you Gryffindors supposed to be good at the lovey-dovey nonsense."

"That would be the Hufflepuffs. Our version of love is more of a 'love strongly because we may not make it to the end of the night' sort of set up."

"You're so annoying," he groaned.

"Thanks," she scoffed. "Why on earth did you come to me about Draco Malfoy's feelings?"

"So direct, you lions." He clicked his tongue. "Did he come talk to you?"

She openly baulked.

"About?"

There was no way Theo knew. Malfoy wouldn't dare tell him and if he had, Theo certainly would have addressed it by now. Likely with some sort of dry sarcasm followed by an innuendo involving a threesome from hell.

Theo cleared his throat and fidgeted in his seat. He was trying to look anywhere but her eyes when he spoke again.

"About the manor."

Hermione froze. Her arm itched again, ripping through her mind with an unrelenting urge to tear at her sleeve and pull the skin away layer by layer until nothing was left. Dark magic left traces, on a person's soul. In their wands. In her skin.

"W-what about it?"

"I've...er. I read the articles. I know what happened-"

"No Theo. You really don't." She was trying to stay calm, panic edging at her mind. A ghost of a mania-filled laugh drifted through her thoughts.

"He feels bad about it you know?" Hermione laughed dryly in spite of herself and Theo groaned. "That was a severe understatement. Let me try again. What happened to you fucking eats at him. He loathes himself for letting it happen and it drives him someplace. Someplace dark, some place I can't reach him."

"You think his guilt is for me. He hates me, Theo."

Or at least he should if I'm right.

"Of course not, well... not you specifically. But contrary to everything you and your little friends believe, Draco is a person capable of empathy. He would have hated to see anyone in your place. He did see others in your place and they haunt him too." Theo's eyes darkened. "They just don't wander around school starting arguments with him in class."

"That doesn't mean-"

"He talks in his sleep you know. Prick must have some nasty nightmares." Theo shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "You come up alot. More so recently."

"I have no idea why-"

"Alright look. Let's get to the point," Theo snapped. Something dangerous roiled in the air around him. A feeling that her instincts told to heed and not risk making him angier. It was an odd sensation from the flirtatious and quiet boy.

"-Something has happened to him, something that kickstarted old memories. All I am saying is… if he does something stupid. Or approaches you… just hear him out."

"Theo," she sighed.

"Please. You don't have to forgive him. Just… listen okay?"

She wanted to say no. She wanted to scream that there was no penance for that night and he was the only one alive left to hate. But then she remembered his hesitance, and how it was mirrored in a classroom a bit over a week ago. Her pushing him, her asking for pain. Pain he had already seen. Pain that had made him white as a shaking sheet as he watched her writhe on his drawing room floor.

"If…" She swallowed back the shake to her voice. "If he were to approach me I would listen."

"That's all I ask. Thank you Hermione." He awkwardly rubbed the back of his head. "I… I know this is asking a lot of you. But Draco is a friend. He's… He's still trying to reconcile who he is with who he has been. It's hard for him… since they are two drastically different people."

"I'll try Theo." Thick and noxious, the feeling roiled through her stomach. "I can't promise anything else. There's just too much…"

"I know. I know…" He glanced down at the books she was reading. "Can I help with that?"

They spent the next hour or so in the library discussing her almost completed project. When she would drift away he would pull her back with a related question or interesting point. He seemed to realize there was something off, but chose not to mention it. Hermione was grateful, she already had enough things to think about.

Even so, by the time she left the library, Hermione needed a second opinion. It was time to talk to George.