A/N- Hi! Things are getting more intense in this chap, and I am LOVING writing this fic so much! The romance factor (imo) is through the roof and ugghhhh I just love them and their love so much!

Since this is drastically different from the movies, I would love to hear your predictions on what will happen next, so if you have any guesses, please let me know!

As always, thank you to the cheesiest Cheesy (who beta's for pretty much everyone in the world and I have no idea how she does it) The lovely ArrayofColours (who was so very kind to offer her beta services) and my amusing, yee-hawing friend BlueGreenAndPurple (who is still insane, but makes me laugh like no other)

oOo

Day 3-

After almost a full day of boring and meaningless chit chat, Hermione managed to get away before dinner, excusing herself as she had the day before by saying that she was feeling ill. In front of the Malfoys, her obviously embarrassed mother brought up the idea that it was the sea that was making her daughter feel ill, and Hermione hadn't tried to correct her.

She knew that leaving again would grant her a few choice words from her mother later, but Hermione couldn't bring herself to care, because the only thing she cared about at that moment was a tall, ginger man covered in freckles.

Since leaving him yesterday, Hermione hadn't been able to get Ron out of her mind for one second. Her logical self knew that she shouldn't be seeing him at all, but when he had asked to see her again, she'd relented, unable to tell him no. She had always been a rule follower who hardly ever stepped out of line, but there was something about him that made her throw caution to the wind and feel more reckless than she ever had before. Everything in her was so enthralled by him, and she was aching to find out every single detail that made up Ronald Weasley.

Hermione wasn't a fool though. She knew that she would have to end whatever was happening between them sooner rather than later — that the chances of seeing him ever again after disembarking from the ship were slim to none. Yet, she was unable to end it because he was making her feel things that she had never felt before, and she couldn't get enough of whatever it was. When she was with Ron, he made everything else disappear, and it was as if only they remained. He made her feel as if everything would somehow be okay...he gave her hope.

Hermione made it back to the empty suite, walked into her room and started digging around her top drawer for her journal. Over the years, she had possessed many, but this one was the one that she was currently writing in. The journal was filled with short stories and poems that she jotted down when inspiration struck, and although she didn't find it to be too impressive, she'd promised Ron that she would let him read it. A part of her was hesitant to allow him to scan over the personal words she had written, but the other part wanted him to know her, wanted no barrier between them.

Once the small, leather bound book was in her hands, Hermione walked out and shut the bedroom door behind her, locking it for good measure. She hoped that everyone would believe her story and that nobody would try to disturb her once they got back after dinner, and there would be no problems.

She made her way across the ship, her eyes looking out for anyone that might recognize her, but to her relief, everyone on the ship seemed to be having too much fun to pay her any attention.

When she made it to Ron's room, Hermione gave the door a few quiet taps before turning the handle and walking in. She caught Ron laying down awake on his bed, and couldn't help but smile as he immediately stood up, his face incredulous as if he couldn't believe his eyes. He stared at her for several seconds, as if he was lost for words before his face broke into a smile, the sight of it like a fresh breath of air that wiped out all of Hermione's previous worries.

Instead of coming towards her as she had expected, Ron stayed where he was when he spoke to her. "You're early," he breathed.

"I was able to get away early," she confirmed as she took a step closer to him as she held out her journal. "I brought this for you. You said you wanted to read it..."

Moving his arm out slowly, Ron took it from her, his smile growing wider as he looked down at it. "Brilliant. I can't wait to read it." He looked up, his lower lip in between his teeth as he studied her as if he were contemplating something before speaking. "I met someone this morning — at breakfast I mean. And —" He stopped talking, his eyes darting towards the door behind her. Setting her journal down gently onto his bed, he turned to her, his hands coming up to lightly grasp her elbows. "Stay here, please. I'll be right back."

Hermione had no idea what he was doing, but she trusted him enough to nod her head, and with that, he was gone. She sat on the edge of his bed to wait, and about five minutes later the door opened again. Hermione smiled at Ron as he walked in, but her smile faltered when she watched as he pulled another woman by the hand into the room with him. The woman was blonde, and like Ron, looked to be in third class. She was pretty, with long blonde hair hanging down her back in a braid, and appeared to be around Hermione's own age. As she walked in, she looked all too pleased about being there, and when she spotted Hermione, she smiled as if the two were lifelong friends.

When the door shut, Ron turned around and grabbed Hermione's hands in his, his face excited. "Hermione, this is—"

"Hannah Abbott, Miss!" the woman interrupted. "Ron's told me everything, and I'd be absolutely delighted to help you!"

Confused, Hermione just stared at the woman, and Ron turned to Hannah, shaking his head as he let out a chuckle.

"Slow down, Hannah," he told the excited woman. "Hermione doesn't know what you're talking about just yet."

Hannah gave Ron an apologetic smile before clamping her mouth shut. He turned back to Hermione, her hands still in his. "First off, thank you for agreeing to see me again," he said sincerely. "You came even though you figured that we would be stuck in this little sodding room the whole time like yesterday."

He paused, one corner of his mouth twisting up mischievously. Hermione said nothing, pursing her lips and willing him to continue. "So, this morning, while talking with Hannah here, I came up with a plan. I want to show you around, Hermione, show you some of what third class has to offer... but you can't very well walk around with me in your fancy dresses, right?"

Hermione gave him a slow nod, still not seeing where this conversation was headed.

"So," he continued. "Hannah is going to help you be able to get around inconspicuously. She's going to loan you a dress so you can blend in with the lowly commoners," he said with a teasing smile. "That way, when we see each other, we won't be limited to this small room."

Hermione was stunned. Her eyes went to Hannah, and for the first time, she noticed that the woman was holding what seemed to be a dress folded up in her arms.

"Will you do it, then?" Ron asked, interrupting her train of thought, his eyes hopeful.

Hermione turned to Hannah with a smile. "That is very kind of you," she told the blonde. "Thank you."

Hannah practically bounced on her feet with excitement. "Of course! I'm more than happy to help! All of this, well, it's terribly romantic, isn't it? I guess I'm just a sucker for these types of things."

Hermione chanced a look at Ron to see that his cheeks were now a light shade of pink. "It is a good idea," she agreed, giving his hand a squeeze.

If Ron was spending his time thinking of ways that they could be around each other, he really did care. Not that she ever thought he didn't, but he was proving it more and more each day. A flicker of guilt passed through her. She knew she couldn't promise him anything, but then again, he had told her that he didn't expect anything to come out of them seeing each other, so Hermione held onto that — the last thing she wanted to do was hurt him.

The guilt was pushed aside by the thrill of an adventure with Ron, and before Hermione had time to fully grasp the idea, she was telling him yes and he was sweeping her into his arms in a bone crushing hug. Hannah said her goodbyes before handing Ron the dress and walking out, telling them she would see them in just a little bit for dinner.

When the door was closed, Ron handed Hannah's dress to Hermione. Holding the dress in her arms, she and Ron stood there staring at each other for a few moments before Ron's eyes widened and his face went red.

"Oh. I'm sorry!" he said as if coming out of a daze. "I'll just — I'll just turn around. I mean — no! I'll just go out and stand outside of the door and wait, and then you come out when—"

"You can stay," Hermione said, this time being the one to blush. "I feel..I'll feel safer —if you're in here with me, that is. I just…" she trailed off.

He cleared his throat. "Alright," he said before turning his back to her, his hands clasped behind him.

Her eyes on Ron, Hermione took off her dress, leaving her in just her undergarments. She couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking as she stripped behind him, wondering if he was imagining what she looked like. Feeling extremely inappropriate, she forced the thought away.

Hermione spread her dress out carefully on Ron's bed before pulling Hannah's simple blue dress over her head. The dress buttoned up in the front, so she was easily able to do it up herself. Once she was finished, she looked up at Ron, who was still standing in the same exact spot, not having moved at all. She eyed his backside, noticing how his trousers were just a bit too tight on him, and the way they hugged the curve of his — She shook her head, averting her eyes as she took a deep breath before calling out to him.

"I'm done."

Ron turned around, and Hermione watched his eyes scan her in the dress, his eyes lighting up at the sight.

"Well? Do I look 'normal' now?" she asked him, a teasing tone to her voice.

He took two steps forward until he was standing directly in front of her. His hand reached up to the top of her head and pulled two large pins out of her hair, causing it to cascade in a curly mess down her back.

"No," he said in a soft voice. "You could never look just 'normal', Hermione." His hands threaded through her curls, trying to get them in some sort of order. "But I have to admit, I like your hair better like this."

His words and actions caused her breath to hitch. When she looked up and met his gaze, she could tell by his face that he was internally struggling on whether or not to keep his distance. She wanted nothing more than to push herself up to kiss him, but instead, she stepped back, knowing that once she allowed that, she would be crossing a line from which she couldn't come back.

At her action, Hermione saw a flicker of disappointment in Ron's eyes before he hid it and gave her a small smile.

"Ron," she started, hesitant to ask, but knowing that it probably needed to be addressed. "What Hannah said... about all of this being romantic—"

"I didn't say that to her, I swear," he cut in.

"I didn't think that you did, I just —" she sighed. "What are we doing? What is this — whatever is happening between us, what's the point?"

Ron stepped towards her, taking her hands in his once more.

"I don't know," he said quietly. "But I'd be lying if I told you that I don't have feelings for you, Hermione. Strong feelings at that," he added with a chuckle.

"Ron I—"

The door was flung open, and Ron immediately grabbed Hermione, pulling her behind him. He was pushing her against the wall, his warm body against hers, protecting her from the view of whoever was in front of him. She felt his body relax the next instant though, and he ordered whoever had come in to shut the door. Hermione heard the door close, and Ron stepped aside, allowing her to see who had come in. It was the man that she had seen with Ron out on the lower deck that first day, and she knew right away that it had to be Harry.

Ron cleared his throat. "Harry, this is Hermione Granger. Hermione, this is Harry Potter," he introduced, and Hermione stepped up to Ron's side, putting her hand in Harry's outstretched one.

Harry's eyebrows rose as he pulled her hand to his mouth and kissed it.

"Blimey, I kind of thought that Ron was lying," he joked, his eyes twinkling as he looked at Hermione. "But he really did manage to befriend one of the most important people on this ship."

Hermione shook her head. "I'm not—"

"You are," Ron cut in, and Hermione gave him an exasperated look before turning back to Harry.

"It's so nice to meet you, Harry. Ron has told me so much about you."

Harry raised his eyebrow at Ron. "Good things, I hope?"

Hermione smiled and nodded. "Yes, good things. I think it's wonderful how close you two are."

Harry smiled, "Yeah, this git right here is all I've got."

"Except Sirius, mate," Ron interjected.

Harry nodded. "I hope so." He looked at Hermione's dress. "So, I assume by your attire that you'll be joining us for dinner?"

"Yep," Ron confirmed. "So you better be on your best behaviour."

Harry gave him a scandalized look that made Ron roll his eyes, but neither of them said anything else, and Ron turned to Hermione, offering her his arm. "Ready?" he asked.

Together, the three of them made their way out of the room, Hermione feeling more excited than she could remember. As they walked down the narrow hallway, a door opened to Hermione's left, and a boy ran out, crashing into her with enough force to throw her into Ron's side.

The boy looked horrified as he looked up at her. "I'm sorry, Miss!" he said. "I didn't mean to run into you like that!" He then turned to Ron. "Sorry for running into your wife sir!"

Ron looked amused as he turned to Hermione. "Are you okay, love?" he asked.

His face was the picture of innocence as he awaited her answer, but the term of endearment he used had rendered her speechless, so she just nodded.

Ron turned to the boy. "No harm done, kid. Just try to be more careful from now on, okay?"

The boy looked relieved as he nodded and scampered off, and they all continued walking, Harry shooting a humored glance at them.

"S'not a bad idea, you know," Ron muttered.

"What?"

"You pretending to be my wife...when you're dressed like this, I mean."

Hermione bit her lip trying not to smile at the idea. "Yeah, less suspicious," she agreed.

Ron smiled but said nothing more as they made their way down to the third class dining area. The room was large, and although not nearly as lavish as the first class dining area, it was nice enough, and most of the tables were currently occupied.

"I'm sure it's not as fancy as the first class dining area," Ron told her. "But the food is pretty great, and I've met a lot of interesting people here. As I said earlier, I met Hannah this morning — and her husband, Neville too. Neville's a lot quieter than his wife, but he's a real nice bloke."

Ron led her to a table in the back, where Hermione saw Hannah already sitting next to a man with sandy blonde hair and kind eyes.

"We don't have waiters here," Ron explained as he motioned towards what seemed to be a buffet. "It's every man for himself."

"And woman," Hermione responded.

"Do you even know how to make your own plate, my dear?" he asked, a playful smirk on his face.

"There's no time like the present to learn….sweetheart," she responded, causing Ron to chuckle.

Together, they made their way to the buffet line full of people piling their plates high with food. Hermione could hardly choose what to eat as there were so many selections and all of them looked appealing. Deciding that she wanted to have the full third class experience, she put a little bit of everything on her plate, knowing that she was going to gorge herself tonight — something that was frowned upon in first class as being 'unladylike'.

When both of their plates were full, she and Ron sat with Neville, Hannah, and Harry. As they ate, Hermione realized that she had never had such an exciting meal in her life. It was relaxing, and enjoyable, and she felt no need to put on a superficial act. It was by far the liveliest meal that Hermione had ever attended, and even though she hardly participated in the conversation, she enjoyed just watching everyone else as she ate. There was no one setting a napkin in anyone's lap, and instead of hushed, polite conversations, everyone was talking and laughing loudly, with jokes thrown around all in good fun as especially Harry and Ron jested each other.

Throughout the meal, Hermione noticed how Ron kept on glancing at her to make sure that she was enjoying herself. He kept on giving her small smiles that she returned each time, and he also kept reaching for her hand under the table and giving it a reassuring squeeze. Every time he did this, she was taken aback by how much he made her feel, her heart doing flip flops in her chest.

As she ate, a part of her worried that Draco, or somebody else had somehow realized that she wasn't in her room, but she highly doubted it, knowing that the first class dinners and after parties usually went on for hours, and by the time Draco and her mother did get back to the suite, they would surely assume that she was already asleep in her bedroom.

After dinner, Hannah and Neville retreated back to their room, while the three of them decided to head to the bar for a drink. Ron told her that there was also a dance floor, and Hermione couldn't help but hope that he would ask her to dance. When they were in the smoky room, Harry wandered off, leaving them to their privacy, and Ron ordered her an ale, assuring her that it wasn't strong, and a beer for himself.

As they sat at the bar, sipping their drinks, they chatted with each other, both of them needing to repeat themselves several times due to the loud volume of the music. By the second drink, Hermione felt herself relax, and a grin took over her face as she spotted the same look of relaxation in Ron's expression.

Not for the first time, she found herself thinking how handsome he was. His face was flushed either from the alcohol or the heat of the room, his eyes were sparkling and happy, and his grin looked as if it wasn't going to go anywhere soon. She was brought out of her reverie by the sound of a deep, slurred voice behind her, and when she turned around, she saw a heavy-set man with a scraggly beard sitting next to her at the bar.

"What's your name?" he asked, a sloppy grin on his face.

Ron leaned forward to look past her at the man. "She's with me," he informed the stranger, a tight smile on his face.

The man put his hand on top of Hermione's. "I think that's for her to decide, not you," he responded, staring at Hermione as he spoke.

There was the sound of the chair scraping, and then with lightning speed, Ron was up and standing between them.

"You touch her again, and we will have a fucking problem," he said in a low voice, his jaw clenched.

The man put his hands up in the air in surrender. "Alright, alright! I didn't mean anything by it," he mumbled as he stood up and walked away.

Once he was gone, Ron turned to Hermione, a sheepish look on his face. "Sorry about that."

Hermione reassured him she was fine, not wanting the perfect night to be marred by anything negative. She too slid off of her stool to stand in front of him. "Want to teach me how to dance like that?" she asked, nodding her head in the direction of the heavily crowded dance floor.

Ron took her hand in his. "I'd be delighted to," he replied, a grin spreading on his face as he led her across the room before stopping at the very edge of the dance floor. With her hand still in his, he lifted their joined hands shoulder-height, wrapping his other hand around her waist and pulling her closer.

Hermione felt butterflies erupt in her stomach at his proximity, the tingly feeling enhanced by the alcohol that she had consumed. As if by instinct, her other hand came up to rest on his shoulder, and even through his shirt, she could feel how warm his skin was.

"Wh—what do we do first?" she stuttered, hoping he could hear her over the music and the people around them.

At this, he pulled her even closer, smiling devilishly as he did so. "There's only one rule to dancing like this."

"What's that?" she asked, trying not to sound as flustered as she was.

He leaned in, his face going right next to her head, his breath tickling her ear. "There are no rules," he whispered right before whirling her around as they took off gliding through the dance floor.

After the initial surprise, Hermione looked up at Ron's delighted face, and was unable to stop herself from breaking out in hysterical laughter. He joined her, both of them breathless as they twirled around, laughter ringing out barely audible over the music. Hermione felt weightless, and a hundred percent safe in Ron's arms as he spun her effortlessly around the dance floor. She had danced many times, of course, but never like this. Her dances had rules, were stiff, and nothing like what she and Ron were doing now, carelessly moving around together yet still in sync.

As they danced, Hermione watched Ron's face. What started out as an overjoyed expression was slowly turning to something else. He was no longer smiling, and the intensity in his gaze made her already straining lungs weaker. Nobody had ever looked at her the way he currently was, especially not so directly.

As if he had finally reached a point that he could no longer contain whatever was brewing inside of him, Ron turned around, her hand in his, and led her off of the dance floor, her short legs barely keeping up with his long strides. Once off, his eyes darted around the room frantically, as if he were looking for something. Spotting a bathroom, he pulled her inside of it before reaching behind her and closing the door. It was very small, and there was hardly any room for the two of them. They stood there staring at each other, mere inches apart but not touching.

His chest was heaving and his eyes were blazing as their eyes never wavered from each other. She knew that he had pulled her in there for a reason, so she said nothing, waiting for him to give her an explanation.

"Hermione—" he started, his voice heavy with emotion. "You can't marry him."

Hermione closed her eyes, letting out a shaky breath. This conversation, she knew, had been inevitable, but she had hoped that she would have more time before it happened. "Ron, I have to— you don't understand," she explained in a weak voice.

"Open your eyes," he requested, and she opened her eyes to see his beautiful blue ones staring back at her. "You can't marry him," he said again, this time with more conviction. "If you do, it will destroy the best parts of you, and I— I can't let that happen."

She pulled her hands up and put them over her eyes, trying to hide her tears. "Ron, please...stop," she pleaded, but his hands grabbed hers and peeled them off of her face.

"You can't marry him," he said yet again. "I'm falling in love with you, Hermione." He let out a huff of frustration as he continued, words coming out of his mouth as if he couldn't hold them back. "I know that it's probably not what you want to hear right now, and I don't even know if you feel the same, but I need to tell you — I need to—to fight for you. Otherwise, I'd be a bloody coward! I know that I'm not wealthy or important like Malfoy, but I would treat you right, Hermione. I would spend my life trying to make you happy — to—"

Hermione placed a hand over his mouth, unable to hear any more. Until he had said the words out loud, she hadn't realized how much she had longed to hear them, and they both elated and devastated her.

He was offering himself to her. He was the escape to the life she dreaded. He was everything that she hadn't even known she wanted until she'd met him. And now, she had to let him down, and it was going to kill her to do so.

"This is all my fault," she whispered.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What?"

"For dragging you along like this, Ron. For delaying the inevitable. It was wrong of me, and I'm sor—"

"Bullshit!" he yelled. "Total bullshit Hermione and you know it!"

She ignored his outburst. "I'm sorry if I ever made you believe that there could be more to us than just on this ship Ron, I thought you knew tha—"

He let out a loud growl of frustration. "Drop your little proper lady act Hermione and tell me the truth."

She stared at him, but said nothing.

"How do you fucking feel Hermione?" he demanded. "How do you feel about me?"

She started to shake her head but he cut her off, his voice nearing desperate hysteria. "Deny it all you want Hermione, but you have been coming to me! Sure, I had to ask you to continue whatever this is that we are doing, but I know that you want it just as much as I do! You're just afraid to say it, because then you will have to admit that despite your lavish and posh life, what you really want is for somebody to love you, for somebody to look at you the way that I do, to want you as much as I do."

Her breaths were coming out in little pants. She did want a life like he had, and even more, she wanted a life with him. Even if for a moment, she let herself imagine an instance in which she could say no to Draco and end their engagement to run away with Ron. Just the mere thought of it made her feel more free than she ever had in her entire life, but she knew that impulsivity was foolish and not at all realistic.

If this were one of her books, she would have already agreed with whatever plan he had in mind and let him whisk her away to her happily ever after. But Hermione knew that real life wasn't like the books she read. Real life had consequences, and despite how much she may want him, it just wasn't possible.

She started to shake her head again, and Ron stopped her by putting his hands on either side of her face. He leaned down and placed his forehead to hers, his eyes closed, his breath shaky.

"Please," he pleaded, the sound of his voice breaking her heart. "Please, please, please, please, please. One word, Hermione. One word, and I will help you. I will take you away. I will take you somewhere where he will never see you again."

It took every ounce of Hermione's courage to reach out behind her to find the door handle and turn it. Before she could break down completely, she stepped outside of the bathroom, Ron's hands dropping to his sides.

"I need to head back," she said in a stiff voice. "This has been fun Ron, but I've been irresponsible — meeting you like this. I don't know what I was thinking."

Ron's face looked pained as she continued. "Thank you for everything. You've taught me so much, and I'll forever be grateful for that."

If heartbreak had a look, it would be the expression on Ron's face as he stared at her, saying nothing. "Hermione," he begged once more, reaching out to take her hand, but she pulled away before he could, shaking her head.

"I can't see you again."

With that, Hermione turned around and made her way through the crowd as fast as she could, relieved to see that Ron wasn't following her. When she made it out of the large room and into a small hallway, she burst into tears.

I'm falling in love with you, Hermione.

His words echoed in her head, the same words over and over, and she knew that they would haunt her dreams. Before, she hadn't even thought that love — at least that type of love — existed except in stories, but Ron Weasley had again proved her wrong. She realized that his feelings were far from one sided, and that she was falling in love with him, too.

The idea seemed impossible, as she had only just met him, but she knew, without a doubt, that what she felt was real, and that she would never question love's existence ever again.

Hermione knew that she would never love Draco, not even a little bit — that he was just someone that she would have to put up with, and she would do her best to do so. She was going to play the dutiful fiance, and then the dutiful wife. She would do whatever was expected of her as she had always done, and she would secretly long for someone else probably for the rest of her life.

She made it to her suite fairly quickly due to her fast pace, and once outside the door, she stood there, willing herself to calm down before she went inside. It was late and the ship was silent, and Hermione knew that everyone else would be in bed by now.

The door was unlocked, and Hermione made her way inside the unlit room, the door clicking shut behind her. Taking a shuddering breath, the pained look that had been on Ron's face still fresh in her mind, she started towards her room.

Before she made it though, the light clicked on, and Hermione turned around, almost screaming out loud at the sight of Draco standing by the front wall, a nearly empty glass of whiskey in his hand, his face murderous as he watched her.

"Where have you been?" he demanded in a slow, menacing voice.

Hermione could sense the anger underneath his question, and knew that no matter what she told him, the damage had already been done and she had been caught.

"I…" she started, stopping as his eyes ran up and down the length of her body. With horror, Hermione realized that she had forgotten to change back into her own dress, and she was still wearing Hannah's.

"What are you wearing?!" he seethed, causing her to take a few steps back until her back hit the wall behind her. She held her breath as he took steps in her direction until he was standing directly in front of her.

"Don't bother with your lies, Hermione." He reached out to finger the buttons on the front of her dress, his eyes glassy and unfocused as he continued. "I had a suspicion that you were up to no good, so I had Zabini follow you this evening." Hermione closed her eyes in defeat, a trembling fear coursing through her chest. "I know what you were doing — who you were with!"

The words snapped her eyes open, the thought of Ron coming into any trouble due to her making her panic. "I wasn't—I wasn't doing anything improper Draco, I—"

Draco flung his drink at the floor, the sound of the glass shattering making her let out a small scream. Involuntarily, Hermione's eyes went towards her mother's closed door. As much as she and her mother didn't get along, Hermione knew that Draco wouldn't hurt her in her mother's presence. He took notice of where her eyes had gone, and before she could react, his hands were wrapped around her neck. He wasn't squeezing hard enough to block her windpipe, but he was squeezing hard enough to make it uncomfortable for her.

"You listen to me, and you listen to me good, you hear?" he hissed. "No fiance of mine is going to go running around the ship with the likes of him and get away with it!"

She let out a choking sob as she felt his breath on her face. "He was just—he was just showing me—"

With a loud swear, Draco squeezed her further, preventing her from finishing her sentence, but he loosened his grip again as he spoke his next words. "If this happens again Hermione — I will have him killed. Do you understand me?"

Hermione's eyes widened as she stared up at him in horror.

He gave her an evil smile. "Oh yes. You see, honey, Malfoy men are not the type to be fooled with, and they don't take kindly to those who dare try to fool them either."

She shook her head, his hands still wrapped around her neck. "You wouldn't," she whispered, not fully believing her words.

He gave her a wicked smile. "Hermione. I don't think you even comprehend just how powerful I am! How easy it would be to have your ginger killed." She didn't reply — her words stuck in her throat. "What a shame it would be for him to just somehow slip off the deck and into the water below? How sad it would be for Zabini to have to witness the whole entire thing?" He gave a humorless laugh. "It's really as simple as it could get. I doubt anyone cares enough to miss scum like him, one minute there, the next — gone, and only you to blame for it."

Hermione gave an involuntary whimper and Draco let out a laugh. "Oh, you believe me now?" He let go of her neck and gave her two rather hard pats on the cheek. "Good girl."

He stepped back to again look at what she was wearing, disgust evident on his face. Before Hermione could react, Draco grabbed the front of the dress at the collar and pulled, ripping the front cleanly down the middle all the way to her navel, causing Hermione to squeal and try to cover her corset-clad breasts with her arms.

Draco clicked his tongue angrily before grabbing her wrists and forcing them away from her chest, pinning her arms to her sides. She could feel his breath on her as his eyes soaked in the sight of her hungrily, roaming over her creamy skin as if looking for something.

"Did he touch you?" he demanded, and Hermione frantically shook her head no, tears now running freely down her face.

Still looking at her chest, Draco must've decided that she was telling the truth, because he let go of her and stepped away.

"Go, now," he ordered. "Take a bath. Scrub every ounce of filth that you came into contact with off of you. Scrub until your skin is red and raw." He paused. "I won't tell your mother — this time at least. Consider yourself lucky."

Hermione nodded vigorously, desperate to get away from him.

"And don't you ever try to pull a stunt like this again, or he will die. I mean it, " he said in a low voice. Hermione again nodded before turning around, managing to get to her room without another word.