Thank you guys for waiting so patiently for this update. So many of you have sent such kind and encouraging words since I mentioned my slowed update schedule, and I'd like to thank all of you from the bottom of my heart for being so understanding. I've had a ton going on in my private life, but things are slowly on the mend and I hope to get back to posting more regularly sometime next month. I have so much love for every one of you!

As always, a huge thank you goes out to RESimon for being such a wonderful beta.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

She emerged from the bedroom in the early hours of the morning, the darkness outside showing only bare hints of the sun that was slowly rising. Malfoy lay asleep on the couch, his pale face looking almost angelic in repose. The sheet he slept with had fallen down sometime during the night, and was currently gathered around his waist. She allowed her eyes to sweep across his leanly muscled torso, taking in his defined abdomen down to the v-shaped dip in his hips that disappeared just below where the sheet had gathered. She realized that she couldn't tell whether he wore pants or not, and she flushed at the thought of him shifting again only to uncover his complete nakedness to her.

Knowing she could linger no further lest he wake, she hurried into the bathroom, hastily getting into the shower as she let the troubling thoughts swirl in her mind. She'd slept fitfully during the few short hours of night that had remained after their tryst, her mind assaulted with memories of what had transpired between them. She hadn't emerged from the bedroom after she'd sealed the door shut, her heart hammering too hard to even entertain the thought of going back out to shower despite the uncomfortable stickiness of his drying release that still coated her thighs. She'd cleaned herself the best she could with her wand, but even now could still the warmth and wetness deep inside her cunt.

Things had now changed between them — irreversibly. She'd let him take her roughly, had wanted it — instigated it, even. Despite the fact that it had now been several hours since the deed however, she still did not know how she felt about what had happened. The memory of the way he'd taken her with rough, practiced strokes made heat pool in her loins, while the remains of his release inside her filled her with a sea of conflicting emotions even as she washed it away, scrubbing herself nearly raw as she tried to erase the memories of her wanton actions. It was true that they'd slept together once before, but that occasion had been fraught with tension and fear, and she'd lain there resigned as she counted down the moments until he finished.

But last night...last night she'd relished in it, savored every second of the feeling of his thick cock stretching her wide as he took her with strong, practiced strokes. She'd clung to him desperately, needing the release and feeling practically every part of her body vibrating with it. Now that the light of day had come to illuminate her shame, she longed to curl up and hide until it ebbed away. But she knew that it would not — knew that it would only continue to grow until it enveloped her, reminding her that the reason behind these feelings lay just beyond the door. One of many doors that they'd constantly been using to separate themselves from each other. After what has transpired last night it felt as though the barriers between them had eroded, and the physical one that she stood staring at as she stepped out of the shower felt false.

When she finally wrapped a towel around herself and pulled the door open, she froze.

He was awake and bent over his trunk, clad only in a towel that was slung low around his waist. She felt her eyes immediately drop to roam over the defined muscles of his back before she forced herself to stop, letting her eyes stray only as far as his tensed shoulders.

"Good morning," she said.

He tensed further then turned, and she held her breath as grey eyes finally met brown. Even though her towel was tightly secured around her chest, she felt There was a long beat of silence as she tried to garner something — anything — from his unreadable expression. But then his eyes dimmed, and his expression was suddenly and startlingly clear.

Indifference.

She had yet to move from the bathroom doorway, and she felt a flare of pain in her hand from how fiercely she had been gripping the doorknob. She knew not what she had been expecting, but it hadn't been this — rejection, firm and unwavering. They were married, but not in the truest sense of the word— this she knew. She didn't know what she'd expected to encounter the morning after, but she'd thought things would be different, somehow. Even as she'd washed away the remaining slickness between her thighs, she couldn't stop the images from replaying themselves in her head.

He moved closer and she watched him, waiting to see if he would say or do something—

Instead, he brushed past her and went into the bathroom, giving her just enough time to let go of the doorknob and shuffle a few steps forward before he pulled it firmly closed behind him.

By the time she made it back into the bedroom and dressed, her swirl of conflicting emotions had settled on one that pulsed beneath her every action — anger. It simmered as she prepared a simple breakfast of beans on toast, begrudgingly dropping down a plate for him as well. She ate quickly while he lingered in the shower, and when he emerged to dress, she stood from the table and went over to the desk, observing the way he'd returned the desk to pristine order sometime in the night. The pages of parchment they'd scattered were settled back into neat piles, and the books were all back in order on the bookshelf. There was no sign of what had transpired apparent on the desktop— the ink she'd spilled had been scrubbed clean, and their quills and a pristine inkwell were lined up neatly next to the parchment.

She heard him move into the kitchen behind her, settling himself at the table to eat the food she'd left out for him. Still, she said nothing, remaining with her back facing him as she fingered the pristine desk. She ran a hand along its edge as she tried to banish the memories of what had transpired atop it only hours prior. When she pulled her hand back and lifted it, she was momentarily surprised to see that some of the ink hadn't been cleaned from where it had gotten to the underside of the desk, and her fingertips came back coated in it. She rubbed it between her fingers, feeling the images she'd tried to shove down fly back to the forefront of her mind with blinding clarity, contrasting painfully against the cool demeanor of the man behind her.

When she finally turned around, fingertips still coated in ink and fists clenched, she found him watching her. His wand was in hand and he nodded toward the area he'd cleared for their daily sparring sessions. He said nothing all the while, but she had the satisfaction of seeing his eyes widen momentarily in surprise she as she charged forward suddenly, barely giving him time to raise his wand before she was shooting a spell at him. He barely dodged it and had no time to recover as she continued to bear down on him, propelled forward by her rage.

Their duel was like an intricate dance, a series of sharp, calculated movements surrounded by the light of the various spells they threw at each other. He was cold and unyielding while she was driven by her rage, aiming to hurt him the way the pain of his swift dismissal had hurt her. The air grew thick with tension the longer they went at it, and she lost herself in their movements, focused only on striking him as many times as possible while she tried her best to ignore the way his thin shirt clung to his body as his sweat soaked through it, or how his handsome features only looked even more striking when he had that determined glint in his eye—

She found herself suddenly pinned to the ground, Malfoy atop her with his wand pressed into the side of her neck. His body was pressed tightly against hers, and he was propped up on an elbow as he bore down over her. Their faces were so close that they were nearly touching, and their heavy breaths mingled. It felt as if all her efforts at suppressing the memories of the night before had been for naught because they surged forward then with renewed vigor, bursting effortlessly through the mental barriers she'd erected so carefully. She knew the moment he felt it too, saw his pupils blown wide with lust while his cock hardened where she could feel it pressed firmly against her thigh, causing her to grind up against him involuntarily.

Later, she would not be able to point out exactly who had started it. Instead, she would remember only the way they'd gone from glaring at each other to hot, hungry kisses that were broken only long enough to tear one another's clothing off. They were naked within moments and their sweat-slickened skin slid together as they tore at each other. The heat of their bodies combined with the heat of their combined lust had created an inferno within her, and getting closer to him felt like the only solution to put it out.

She barely registered his spell-slickened fingers on her cunt before he was parting her folds and drove into her in one hard thrust. They released a loud, combined moan, and he wasted no time in starting a steady rhythm. He was pressed atop her as he thrust, and she hooked her legs over his hips while she alternated between kissing and sucking at his neck, knowing that there would be marks left behind. He was pressed so securely against her that his pelvis brushed her clit with every thrust, and she gasped and mewled loudly, grasping him as tightly as her climax crashed over her in a wave, drowning her in ecstasy.

His thrusts ended not long after she'd loosened her hold on him, letting her arms fall weakly to her sides. As his length finished pulsing within her he moved to stand, causing her to gasp at the feeling of him dislodging his softening cock. He rolled onto his back beside her, sitting up after only a moment of catching his breath.

Before he could stand up, she reached out a hand and stilled him. "Draco," she called. "Wait."

He tensed, shivering as she ran her hand down his side to where she'd spied a small, puckered scar. It was pink and stood out against his pale skin, despite only being a few inches long. Still, she could tell from the way it had healed that it had been deep — and painful.

"What happened?" Her voice was as gentle as the finger she drew across the raised skin of his scar.

"I fell off of a pony as a child," he spat, turning away from her.

She gripped his arm before he could attempt to move away again, sitting up herself. Normally, she would have been hyper-aware of her nudity, but at that moment she knew she needed to stop him, to talk with him before he sealed himself off once more.

"Stop," she said. "You can tell me the truth."

He glared at her in a manner so forceful that she might have shrunk back months ago. Now, though, it only made her sit up straighter as she met his look evenly. "How did it happen?" she asked again, searching his eyes.

"It was my aunt," he said after a few moments of silence.

Bellatrix. She should have guessed. She shivered involuntarily, thinking of the way the woman's gleeful cackle had cut into her grief as she'd happily looked down upon Dumbledore's broken body. "What did she do to you?" she asked, sweeping her eyes over the rest of his otherwise flawless skin, carefully avoiding his softening cock lest she lose her nerve.

"She trained me," he answered swiftly, volunteering no additional information.

"Trained you how?"

"She trained me to be like her."

The words were few, but the effect of them was jarring. She remained frozen on the floor even as he stood and pulled on his trousers, foregoing pants. She felt about until she grabbed a shirt that hung so low that she realized it must have been his. It brushed her upper thighs but still exposed bits of her mound that peeked from beneath it as she strode over to him and grabbed his arm once more before he could disappear out the front door as he so often did. She let her hand slide down to rest over the scar on his side, ignoring the way he tensed up at her touch.

She opened her mouth to speak and was surprised to hear him speak first. "She told me that my precious, pure blood should never be spilled uselessly. That Malfoy men should never be maimed."

"Did she," Hermione's voice caught as she tried to stop herself from picturing Bellatrix's reaction to the scar, "punish you for this?"

His answering laugh was short and chilling. "No— she did this."

Hermione froze, gripping his side tighter for a moment before she circled him slowly, lifting her hands to run them over the mostly smooth skin of his chest that peppered with a fine smattering of platinum hair that she could barely see. His head was turned away from her, his jaw tense.

"Tell me— tell me what she did to you." Her concern radiated off of her in waves as she tried to get him to sense it, his bare skin clenching beneath her soothing touches. She didn't know if she'd ever seen a moment like this of pure, open vulnerability from him— if she'd ever see it again.

"She attacked me— cut me, maimed me in all the ways she said should never be visible, then taught me to heal them until not a hint of a scar remained. If it did, then I was punished further— severely." His voice was low, but she was so close that she caught every word. Each one cut like a knife, and she bit her lip to stop herself from letting tears fall as she felt his anguish wash over her in a slow wave.

He pulled away then, but did not go to the door. Instead he went and sat on the sofa, elbows braced on his knees as he buried his hands in his hair. She sat down quietly beside him, tentatively resting a hand on his thigh after he was silent for a few long moments.

"She tortured me until she deemed me resilient enough to endure. Then she tortured my mind until she thought my Occlumency skills secure. Sometimes, she would crucio me for hours on end, stopping only to pillage my mind because she thought it necessary to prod when I was at my weakest. My mother— she was able to convince him to let her stop when she tried to have me torture and kill muggles in our drawing room for training. She said that found it unbecoming for such things to occur in her home, and convinced them that I needed many more tutorials before I could partake. She argued it would be best to Mark me once I'd completed the ultimate task to prove my loyalty. They brought me to their revels to prepare me instead. It was no better."

Hermione recalled his description of what he'd witnessed at the revels, shivering involuntarily. She pulled back to wipe away a tear that had slipped down her cheek as he'd spoken, and when she looked up again he was watching her, his eyes dark.

"Does that scare you?" he spat. He has removed his hands from his hair and they were now resting on his thighs, clenched into tight fists. "Do you want to run, now that you know how truly twisted I am? Do you feel sick knowing that you're bound—"

"Draco!" she pleaded. "Stop. Just— look at me," she said. Her inner walls had fallen, leaving her mind as open and vulnerable as the rest of her was while she sat there, nearly completely naked. She forced herself not to cover herself, not to pull away in any fashion even though she rarely left her Occlumency shields anything other than perfectly fortified, and his shirt that she wore had ridden up to the point where her mound was visible no matter how she sat.

She saw it when he finally caught the raw honesty in her expression. He unclenched his fists, letting his shoulders slump forward.

"I'm not here to judge you, Draco—"

"Oh, but you have," he scoffed.

"—not anymore," she finished. "I was unfair in the past. I didn't...I couldn't conceive things from your perspective, not then. But now, after all that's happened, I understand. I do."

He said nothing in response— did not even look at her— but she took a deep breath and continued anyway. "Morality, for me, used to exist on a single plane. Even though I've always known that the line between light and dark was a tenuous and ever-changing construct at best, my belief in the Order has nonetheless always been firmly rooted in the idea that all of their good actions would lead to good consequences with minimal deviations along the way. But now…" she sighed, knowing that she needn't elaborate on the experiences they'd both had up to this point.

"I...I understand why you kill, Draco. It's not because you want to, or have to. It's because if we don't kill them, they'll kill us. Our loved ones. Innocent people. But still—" she swallowed, looking away, "it doesn't mean that every murder I commit isn't a choice. The first— he had no humanity left, of that I was certain. But for others, I can't help but wonder...what if they're like you? What if they'd been forced into it, and are only looking for a way out? It's a choice every time. It's not a decision that you make once, a switch you can flip that makes every subsequent incident okay because you did it the first time. But I know what has to happen, what we have to do, as much as I know that I might lose myself and muddy the lines of everything I'd taken as right and wrong up until this point."

"We do what we have to, Granger. Not because we want to."

"I know," she whispered. "I know."

X

That night as she made her way back to the bedroom after several long hours of silent research, she paused in the doorway, her hand clutching the knob tightly as she hesitated. She turned to see Malfoy sitting up on the couch, looking back at her with a questioning look in his eyes as he caught her hesitation. She bit her lip and glanced down, then carefully met his eyes with a steady look as she deliberately pushed the door wide open. She had stopped denying it to herself, because the events of the past twenty-four hours had made it abundantly clear—

Everything had changed.

And with the light of the main room spilling into the bedroom, she turned and strode to the bed. She slid under the covers just as she heard him enter behind her and close the door softly behind him, sealing them in darkness.

Things have changed quite a bit now, haven't they? :) Can't wait to hear your thoughts.

As always, for updates on my writing progress or just to chat with me, you can check my tumblr (blankfishxx), my Facebook (Blank Fish), or join my Discord sever: (remove all *'s, of course): h*t*tps*:*/*discord*.g*g/*GH6N7Sn.