a/n: reluctantly, releasing this chapter since a lot of you stopped following since the last chapter. please leave a review if you can.

tw: mentions of rape, suicide

Terror.

He felt pure terror at the realization that her lips had made him come alive. A surge of electricity ran through his veins and bones and he felt it in the pit of his stomach, tugging and pulling. He wanted to run away and yet, he wanted to be closer to her. His magic wanted to entangle with hers and dance, and Draco felt uneasy with the odd feeling.

He had kissed many women before but none had made him feel so alive. He felt his magic run through his veins, buzzing and wanting more. And he tried to resist with all his strength, physical and mental. He had been tested. And he had no intention of failing.

He blamed it all on alcohol. It had to be it. There was no way that he would ever feel good about kissing someone like Hermione Granger, someone he had mocked for years, someone he wished was dead when they were kids, even the decisions he had made in the last ten days shouldn't have made him feel such chemistry.

Oh Salazar, why it had to be her, of all people.

His gloved hand rubbed his lips over and over until they were left red and swollen. He felt like he had been poisoned or worse given a dementor's kiss of death. No, this felt much worse. And a part of him, deep down, waited for his life to come to an end because he had been stained not once but twice, by a muggle born witch. Or whatever the old pureblood tales told.

He groaned in despair, and bit his tongue until he could taste his own blood, wasting the pureness of it on Hermione Granger, and he hated her even more for that. He wanted to run up the stairs and wash himself, cleanse himself off her scent, and scrub his lips dry because he could still taste her at the tip of his tongue, her sweetness mixed with his pure blood, what a glorious and exhilarating feeling it was and yet, he despised every bit of it.

Deny, deny, deny.

The moment he heard the others descending down the stairs, he hastily walked towards the apparition point at the front of the house and disappeared without a word.

He appeared in the front yard of the Nott mansion. Theo followed some ten seconds later, and then, Pansy and Blaise. The yard was illuminated by floating chandeliers, of medium size. There was music coming from inside, and guests, half of their faces covered in venetian masks, formed a line to enter the large gothic mansion that was the main residence of the Nott family and Theo's childhood home.

Draco slowed down his steps, waiting for Theo to catch up with him. Because, he knew just how much the young wizard hated the place, filled with nothing but painful memories. Once, he had asked him if there were any good feelings, or thoughts associated with his childhood home, and the answer he had gotten reminded Draco that he had to be extra cautious with his friend whenever they visited the place. Suddenly, his emotions of pure despair and disgust were replaced by worry. And yet, his face gave no sign of feelings he had.

It had been a challenge at first, to find the right balance. He struggled during the sixth year in Hogwarts, keeping his friends at bay. He was following orders and he did his best to obey. Deep down, he was protecting them, imagining that the less they knew, the better it would be. But, he was to be proven wrong when the war had come to an end and all of them found themselves struggling to find a trustworthy place, their friendship pulled apart, in this new world that their parents had wanted them to live in.

It wasn't until they reached eighteen and collectively decided to invest in a property together that they found some sort of a routine and that balance; the kind of calm that they couldn't find at home. But, the kind of calm they needed once they shed their Death Eater uniforms.

His face void of emotions, he followed Theo. The people that occupied the stairs that led to the two large doors, made way for the birthday boy and his friends. Draco had been used to all the whispers that had welcomed him. He was a Malfoy after all, yet, the difference between now and the end of the war was, the whispers praised him, applauded him and added to his ego, or rather to the image he had carved for himself. He was no longer a teenage boy tasked with killing Dumbledore, the son of a failed man who so desperately wanted the praise and approval of the Dark Lord. He was no longer his mother's boy, in people's eyes, who relied on her support and love to be strong.

He was Draco Malfoy, the Dark Lord's poster boy and one of the highest ranking Generals in his army.

They were welcomed with open arms by Nott Sr. and a blonde female that stood next to him, a gentle smile gracing her lips and a soft hint of an accent that tickled Draco's ears.

"Took you long enough" the man wrapped his arms around Theo's shoulders, "Did you forget why I gathered all these people here?"

Only Draco picked up the threat in the older man's voice, and he noticed how Theo's shoulders stiffened.

"What a party, sir. It's even bigger and better than the one last year" stepping closer to the pair, he forced his friend to step to the side.

"Draco, my boy" an awkward smile on his lips, Nott Sr. pulled Draco into a hug, " You grace us with your presence tonight. Oh come on, we are colleagues now. You should address me as Theodore, leave all that sir nonsense to the side"

"Theodore-" he acknowledged the elder man with a nod, eyes meeting the blonde beauty's next to him.

"That's my boy. Now, have you met Mathilde? Isn't she a beauty?" The man pulled the tall, blonde into his arms, squeezing her back side openly for everyone to see. "A gift from the French Minister of Magic. Not too bad for a nineteen year old if you ask me"

"The French minister, as always, is the most generous" Draco took the female's hand and kissed it, "Mademoiselle-"

His gaze remained fixed on the female's, and only when Nott Sr. had cleared his throat, did Draco look away. "I will be making my rounds but, I do hope we can catch up on your upcoming trip to New York, Theodore. The sooner the better. Perhaps, once you are done greeting your guests-"

The elder man stiffened, and cleared his throat. "Of course, it would be my pleasure"

An icy silence cut through the air, and with a nod, Draco stepped to the side and joined his friend. Grabbing two glasses of champagne for them, he took a moment to look around to see the familiar faces, acknowledging him with a nod of their heads.

"Not too shabby for a masquerade ball" Blaise commented, holding Pansy close. The witch looked glamorous, yet frail and she leaned to Blaise, for support. "Ah fuck, duty calls-" he excused himself and Pansy when he noticed his mother in the distance, chatting up a foreign attache.

"I thought you hated masquerades-" Draco made sure to keep Theo close, as they circled the room.

"I do- I am convinced that he is doing all this on purpose, to piss me off and I can't bloody believe it, did you see the blonde? Mathilde or whatever it was- He can't keep it in his pants, can he?"

Draco's hand landed on Theo's shoulder, whispering closely avoiding all the gazes that stared at them, "I know you see it as an insult to your mother's memory but, you need to make sure that your old man keeps his cool tonight and tomorrow and the next day and the next, she is most probably a spy. An idiot could even tell that. Unfortunately, your father is the easiest target when it comes to young beautiful women"

Theo groaned, and downed the drink in his hand, "I wonder why you never get any whores thrown your way, Mr- Witch Weekly's sexiest wizard alive" he snorted, running his fingers through his brown locks.

"I am not easy, you bastard"

"No, but ever since Pansy dumped you for Blaise, you became the most frigid wizard I know. I will promise to behave if you promise to have a good time and try to get laid tonight" Theo laughed, and stepped to the side, to throw himself at one of his father's cousins that Draco was sure Theo hated. But, he had a smile on his face, seemingly determined to endure the pain that the whole party was going to be.

The moment Theo stepped to the side, through the masked crowd, Draco was surrounded by five uniformed men, the only detail that distinguished them apart were the masks covering half of their faces and the color of embellishments on their collars; three silver and two bronze.

"Gentlemen, let's have a drink"

Hermione wasn't sure how long she had spent outside, time seemingly flew by and she found herself stepping into the house, allowing her steps to take her up the stairs. She felt dizzy, in the most pleasant way, the champagne in her veins making her lose focus easily. She had no complaints, she just wanted to lay down and maybe, forget the ache in her chest. Spending time with the Slytherins made her remember all the days and nights she had spent with Harry and Ron. Seeing them laugh, she remembered the smallest things they would laugh about even during the darkest days when they barely clung onto hope.

It pained to know that they didn't have a single chance, and while Draco and his friends had moved on in a way, they were left behind. Her feet took her to his room, and she stood there in the middle of it, taking in her surroundings. She studied every frame, every smile, and noticed his uniform hanging. Her fingers caressed the golden threads on the collar, and the stripes that covered his shoulders. She wondered if he had many of these laying around, in different houses he stayed at. And what it implied to be a Death Eater in this new world that they were living in.

A black tie was neatly placed on the chair, and she noticed how his desk was the cleanest desk she'd ever seen, a few journals neatly stacked one on top of another and a few books on ancient runes. The air in the room smelled of him, and him only and despite her hazy senses, she had imagined she was in the middle of a green forest on a rainy summer's day and oddly enough, she found it to be comforting.

Her eyes closed, she asked Godric for strength and patience and kindness to get through another day.

Draco led them all to the sitting room next door, a room where he once played hide and seek with his best friends, and used the muffliato charm to block all the chatter from spilling outside. Their masks cast to the side, the men made themselves comfortable, in the room filled with books from ceiling to wall. Only two leader couches were facing each other and two armchairs in front of the fireplace.

"We found Dolohov and his filthy dogs-" Goyle was the first to speak, taking a seat closest to where Draco stood. "He was where you told us he would be-"

"Did you deliver them at the Dark Lord's feet like I asked?" Draco inquired with a lazy drawl, filling the man's glass with firewhiskey.

"Yes, he was the most pleased to find out that they were dead, and didn't run away as everyone suspected-"

"He wasn't a tad bit surprised that he ended up dead by your hands" it was Crabbe's turn to raise his glass to get more of the firewhiskey that made the rounds.

"I hope this will be a lesson to anyone who wishes to venture into my lands without permission"

Men whispered in unison, in agreement, quietly enjoying the vintage drink. Draco felt his chest swell, facing the men, with a smirk playing on his lips. He had always known that he could trust his two friends to follow his every order, loyalty that had culminated since they were kids was very much present and very much strong. Though Crabbe and Goyle were in the front lines, along with their fathers, they had become the eyes and ears of Draco, and reported everything they had seen to him.

Despite the general understanding that Dolohov had instigated their brawl, in fact, it was Draco who had been pushing the man to throw the first insult. And though they had fought publicly, without the use of magic, Draco had carefully planned the attack in advance, planting seeds in Dolohov's mind over a course of a few weeks. And when the Death Eater struck, finally giving in to his own insecurities, and lack of power and wealth, Draco was waiting for him, and he trusted that his ex-girlfriend would do the decent thing in a moment of greater need, Hermione was caught in a middle of a larger plot but, Draco knew that she wouldn't be a liability.

"Gentlemen, now that we have Dolohov out of our way, we can focus on what truly matters. Let us dedicate our time to spread the glorious word of the new world the Dark Lord is building for us" Draco raised his glass. His gaze followed every single man that stood in front of him.

"Magic is Might" and the men got on their feet, repeating the words before all downed their drinks in one go, placing their glass on the coffee table, following Draco's lead.

Most of them, apart from Crabbe and Goyle, had been Death Eaters since before Draco was even born and yet, there he stood in front of them, commanding the tone in the room that they followed obediently. He had managed to accomplish one thing that his father had always desired, in a span of some months. Something that his father had tried for years, if not decades. Draco Malfoy had emerged from the ashes of the war as a changed man.

The moment he had heard of Harry Potter's death, he had never looked back. If there were any doubts about who he was, who he could be, they were all erased. To the horror of his mother, he stepped into his father's shoes and had done more in the service of the Dark Lord than his predecessors had. His only goal was to prove to Voldemort and his followers that he, Draco Malfoy, should never be underestimated. If he ever had a hint of fear, and doubt, they were all gone with the soul of the boy who lived and then died. He had proven himself to the Dark Lord over and over, earning himself the golden collar; one in three in the Dark Lord's service were given that honor.

"Tell me, Avery. What is the big news you have been wanting to share?"

With a flick of his wrist, he filled all of their glasses once more and took a seat at the armchair closest to him. The men followed him and settled around him, Avery was stunned at first, he stuttered, then cleared his throat.

Weak as always, Draco thought to himself, and took a long lazy sip from his drink.

"He is sending me to New York. With Nott Sr., Gibbon and Rookwood"

"And, how do you feel about it, Avery?" Draco inquired, his gaze landing on Gibbon and Rookwood who stood on his right side, their pride filled expressions catching his attention.

"Thrilled, actually. It is an honor to serve the Dark Lord in such capacity" Avery stared at Draco and lowered his head, "Thanks to you, Draco"

"Of course-" a chuckle, "I am sure your daughter and your wife will enjoy a trip to New York. I will ask my mother to get in touch with her favorite designers. I can't wait to see Isolde in her new wardrobe. Maybe, I will take her out to dinner when she returns"

Avery froze, his shoulders sulking, but he did his best to keep the neutral expression on his face even though he was visibly struggling.

"I am sure Isolde would be the most thankful" he finally managed to say. He couldn't stare at Draco's smirking face, without disdain. His mind was clouded by the memories of Draco's humble threats to take his daughter and his wife away from him, and keep them locked up and raped by him and his minions until Avery would agree to do his bidding. It didn't help that on one summer's night, when Avery stepped into his sitting room to find his daughter occupying Draco's lap with Draco's hand gently squeezing the girl's throat, and his lips caressing her cheek. With the power that the young wizard had accumulated, not to mention his mad aunt and her position in Voldemort's life, Avery bowed his head and answered Draco's every need and request.

"My pleasure, Avery. Now, let me remind you gentlemen-" Draco stood up, with a smirk on his face. "That I have your best interest at heart. And your families' of course- your loyalty to the Dark Lord and myself will be rewarded generously. Take Avery's example. He followed my lead to be promoted to serve the Dark Lord in the best way possible-" he chuckled, raising a brow, "I do expect to hear only the best news from New York, Avery and from Istanbul, Goyle-I am sure you all remember how much I hate to be disappointed-"

Draco didn't move.

He could hear the music that blasted outside the wooden doors. And he remained in his seat, enjoying the vintage firewhiskey long after his company was gone. Even though it was Theo's birthday party, he found himself entangled in work affairs, holding meetings first with his followers, then with Theo's father and then, with a group of pureblood witches who had started a charity campaign seeking Draco's support.

An unceremonious knock disrupted his peace and quiet, and he stared at the tall figure that stepped inside, a chuckle leaving his lips.

"Drinking alone? How banal and sad of you" the female spoke, her long red gown brushing past the leather sofas until she stood firmly in front of him. His gaze admired her beauty, from her long slender neck to her small waist, and her delicate wrists. In return, she stared down at Draco chuckling, and took the glass from his hands, to finish the drink.

"It's been months and you finally learned to knock. I am pleasantly surprised-"

"What can I say? You educated me well"

"Looking breathtaking as always" he complimented, finally gazing into her eyes instead of her cleavage.

"I am quite immune to your sweet words, Draco. Unfortunately, I can't say the same about your friend Theodore. He is rather dashing and I am afraid I am weak in my knees. Maybe, I should give in to his advances tonight"

"It's his birthday, I imagine you'd make the best kind of birthday gift a man would want"

"I would for any man but you- what a shame. And I was hoping to wrap myself in a bow when it's your birthday"

Draco smirked, and held out his hand. She didn't hesitate, and took a seat on his lap, and his arm circled around her small waist, pulling her even closer to his chest. "I wouldn't mind that, if you will be naked and the only thing I'd have to take off is the bow"

He stared at her, anticipating her next move. Her long hair was neatly pinned on the side, exposing her long, delicate neck. Draco's fingers gently curled around it, and he pulled her closer until his lips pressed to her ear so he could whisper the words only she was allowed to hear, "She has a ring."

A giggle spilled from the female's lips, and she leaned closer, gently pressing her palm on his shoulder, flirting, "That won't be enough" she whispered back, cupping his face with her gloved hand. Draco felt the cold metal around her finger press against his jaw, and he leaned to her familiar touch.

"Since when did you get so greedy?" he inquired, squeezing her neck, applying subtle pressure, enough to make her part her lips and moan, the sweetness of her breath caressing his lips.

"Since you ordered the Gringotts to freeze all the assets" she replied, cheekily. Her hand moved to his neck, and then to his chest and further down, exploring the territory that she once knew better than anyone. He didn't stop her, welcoming her ministrations. Another moan spilled from her lush lips, when his thumb pressed to her pulse point.

"I was just doing the right thing, sweet minx"

"You were kissing the Dark Lord's ass" and she gasped, feeling his fingers on her soft globes, squeezing.

"You'd prefer I kissed yours instead?" he asked, and pressed his lips to her collar, grazing his teeth against the bone.

"At this rate, they will starve, Draco"

"Do I look like I fucking care?" he growled, feeling her hand teasing his waistband.

"You have her. So, it seems to me, you do more than care, sweet darling" the female tilted her head slightly to the side to give him all the space he needed.

"Keep her out of it" another growl and she felt his fingernails dig through the material of her gown, and into her buttocks.

"You know I can't do that" another moan, and she pulled away searching his grey eyes. "She'd better be there with the ring on the night of the ball. They will be expecting her" it was her turn to whisper into his ear, and she did so, nibbling his earlobe earning herself a quiet praise.

They remained entangled in each other's arms, for another two minutes before they both heard the loud gong. She was first to pull away, and he patted her globes and pushed her on her feet.

"I think it's time to cut the cake. Come, darling deliver me into the birthday boy's arms" the female held on to Draco's hand and led them outside, and into the crowd. Draco caught the glimpse of Theo, standing next to his father on the temporary stage set up on the farthest corner of the room.

"Be a good girl, and I might convince Theo to become your guardian" he whispered in her ear, pushing her towards the front of the stage, where they joined Blaise and Pansy. Draco fixed his cufflinks, and avoided Pansy's glare, fully aware that a lecture would be coming his way later in the night about his ties to his most famous conquest since their graduation.

"Potions must be taken on time" the note read, if she had to guess, it was written by Pansy Parkinson and though Hermione doubted the promises the witch had made earlier that day, she made sure to empty the little bottles one after another. If there was one thing that Hermione believed in, it was that she felt stronger every day, her mind had become clearer and she could feel her muscles getting stronger.

The house elf had removed her bandages, and she could see that her cuts had healed well, she was instructed to use the ointment, three times a day and in a week, they should have healed completely.

It felt odd to be left alone, after the kind of day they had. She had managed to witness the four of them in their natural environment, when it was just them four, without the influence of their parents, and their new social ranks. She felt conflicted more than ever, and she groaned burying her face into the pillow.

"Godric, please give me strength" like a mantra, she begged and begged.

Because, every time she closed her eyes, all she could see was his smile, and the shape of his lips. She was reminded that she didn't hate being kissed by him. She had betrayed her beliefs, her friends and Harry so easily and a part of her filled with pure hatred towards herself. Maybe he was right, maybe she should have jumped from the cliff and if she was lucky, the cold waters of Scotland would have lulled her to sleep. But, a part of her wanted to live, to survive, and have her life have a meaning. With Ron free, and with his brothers, she saw a glimmer of hope and she desperately clung to it.

It wasn't over yet.

With a sigh, Hermione twisted and turned in her bed. Endless possibilities of a future that was yet to be written occupying her mind. Familiar faces, smiles and a taste of freedom at the tip of their tongues, she imagined a world where they all had their happy ending, including Draco and his friends.

In the early morning hours, Draco stood at the doorway, his gaze fixed on her sleeping figure. The mask that he wore to the party in his hands.

"Has she bewitched you already?"

Pansy's fingers curled around his, and she stared at Hermione, and then, at Draco. "Feeling better?" he asked her and leaned to press his lips to her forehead.

"Yeah" she murmured, and squeezed his hand. "I can't help but wonder if we are to be the better of all evil or we are as cunning and conniving as everyone makes us out to be"

"I don't know about us but, you definitely are both-" he joked, and earned himself a pinch to his side.

Pansy bid him goodnight and walked to her room, closing the door. He had always admired her strength, one that she had a chance to show once the war had come to an end. She, just like himself, managed to build herself from the ashes, even making her father proud. Despite her own insecurities, Pansy Parkinson had re-written the definition of a modern witch. Draco understood how she had to push herself to the limits in order to attend the party and keep up with the appearances and he had much admiration towards her, so he decided that he'd allow her to tease him about anyone she wanted for another day or two.

"You are nothing but trouble, Granger" he threw the comment with disgust, no matter how much he tried, he couldn't shake off the feeling. He couldn't forget how her lips had made him feel, and yet, he couldn't help the urge to go scrub the feeling off his lips. A deep frown had settled on his face, and he remained still for another ten minutes, watching her, trying to decipher the spell that she had cast on him.

Surely, that would be the only thing that could explain it. His logic disagreed, her magic had been dormant for months, she was nothing but a squib. Draco rubbed his temples, struggling to understand the true meaning of what she had done to him. It pained him deeply, and he wished that something would take his pain away.

With a groan, he turned on his heels and walked down the stairs. No one could control him even someone like Hermione Granger. He would find a cure to this greatest mystery or at least a distraction.

With a pop, he apparated, in hopes to rid of the image and feel of her sweet sweet lips off his mind.