It was a clear bright afternoon; a fleeting glimpse of spring, a season not due for some time. Narcissa was sitting in the sunroom by the large ornate windows sipping her hot tea. She stared out at the water fountain, to the manicured gardens surrounding it and to the maze beyond, till her gaze reached the periphery of the woods at a far distance. She rose slowly from her chair. A figure had appeared among the trees, moving toward the Malfoy gardens, growing in size as it neared. When she could finally discern who it was she sat back down.

It had been some months since Narcissa had seen him.

As she watched him walk around the water fountain she couldn't help but notice how much he'd aged, how even during his youth his eyes were bottomless pools of black as if to reach into his soul would mean to be swallowed. She reached a trembling hand to her cheek, touching her own face, wondering if he ever thought the same when he looked upon her.

"Hello, Narcissa."

"Severus."

She gestured for him to sit.

"Would you like anything, some tea perhaps—?"

He held his hand up, his words steady as he spoke.

"There is no need for such courtesies. You asked me to come and now I'm here. What is it you wanted to tell me?"

She shifted slightly in her seat, straightening out her robes. The truth was that there was no pressing reason for his presence. She'd written first to Draco, asking him how he was fairing during his sixth year at Hogwarts. She told him she loved and missed him. It was a letter like any other letter a parent sent their child. Except hers was void of the truth and filled with unspoken questions; questions she wanted answers to but never asked. Then, without understanding why, she'd picked up a second parchment and requested Severus to meet her at the Manor as soon as he was able to.

It had been irresponsible and treacherous of her.

"I only wanted to ask how things were coming along."

He pursed his lips in a rather ugly manner.

"Did I not say that if there was anything pressing I would contact you?'

Narcissa held his gaze and replied in an uncertain voice, "I only thought that…" There was nothing for her to say, no words to finish the thought. She could not say why she'd wanted him to come, did not know herself, nor wanted to.

An awkward silence hung in the air.

"I hear that the Dark Lord has become a frequent guest at Malfoy Manor," he said pointedly as if that were the reason.

With perfect composure, she placed the teacup on the saucer and gave a polite smile. "Yes, he visits quite often," she said while smoothing down her robes. Then she raised her eyes to meet his.

"You have not changed," whispered Severus with a profound expression on his face. "Not one bit."

"While you are here," she continued as if he hadn't spoken. "You might as well tell me how my son is progressing."

"I fear I am losing him," he replied bluntly. "He does not listen to me as he once used to. The boy simply refuses to tell me anything."

He looked at her softly and continued to speak. "There was an incident—I could not risk putting it into writing—he tried to remove the Dark Mark from his arm. He fell unconscious and spent some days in the Hospital Wing."

Narcissa raised a hand to her lips.

"Is he alright?" she asked fearfully.

Snape regarded her evenly. "Yes," he drawled. "He's fine, which is why I never told you. It was an amateur attempt, just like his attempt on Dumbledore's life, sloppy at best."

She was instantly relieved. Draco was alright. He was safe. Safe at Hogwarts.

"There is something Draco is hiding from me," he whispered with an urgency unlike him. "Yet I can't quite figure out what it is. Do you know?"

"No," she responded coolly. "It seems to me that he is simply being discreet."

Severus' black eyes narrowed. Despite the effortlessness of her lies, he, and only he seemed to know when she was being deceiving.

"Does it not bother you that your son so outwardly declared his defection by physically trying to cut out the Mark?"

Narcissa raised her chin. "My son did no such thing. It must be an unfortunate misunderstanding, an accident, surely—"

"So, you know nothing?" he demanded, his eyes boring into hers. Placing the saucer on the side table near her chair she smiled and returned the stare.

"Try as you may, it's no use. Even the Dark Lord himself cannot read my mind."

He cast his gaze downwards.

"Shame on you Severus."

He reached for her hand.

"Cissa—"

"Don't," she threatened, recoiling her arm. "Do well to remember what I once told you. You will never touch me again."

He frowned. "This is not the time for old grudges. Think of Draco, of Lucius—"

Without a moment of forethought, she drew back her hand and slapped him right across the face.

"I am always thinking of my family!" she spat. "Do not dare presume anything else matters to me!"

Narcissa was shaking.

Her hands moved to smooth down her robe again, trembling against her thigh as she did so. She dared not lift her eyes until things were quiet in her mind again.

"We were just children Cissa," he said with remorse.

And upon hearing those words her gaze snapped to his.

"The only three men I have ever loved have all become Death Eaters," she anguished. 'But you…"

She raised an accusing finger at him.

"You are the only one to have ever broken my heart."

Then in the next instant, she felt the lines on her face soften and her expression relaxed becoming impassive once more.

"Now do what you have vowed to do. Protect my son."

He stood and made to leave without another word. As he stepped out, the light winds gathered his robes, whipping them around his ankles.

Her fingers frantically caressed the bracelet around her wrist as she watched him walk into the distance and then disapparate.

For the first time, Narcissa wondered how different her life would have been if, in their youth, in this life, Severus had loved her and not Lily Evans.

The halls were always dark and eerie in the nights. Anthony Goldstein and Hermione had split up at the beginning of patrol. For the most part, patrolling was usually uneventful, barely anyone was roaming around the castle at night except for the occasional student sneaking out to meet a girl or a couple of first years mucking about. Otherwise, it seemed that the students of Hogwarts had taken Dumbledore's Start-of-Term speech to heart.

Just then she heard something. She turned, but the corridors were so dimly lit that she could only see a little ahead of her. If Draco jumped out at her again like he had a few nights ago, she swore she'd castrate him. His idea of a surprise was not at all amusing. What followed after though was definitely amusing. She bit back a smile as she resumed walking.

The last two weeks had been amazing. She felt like she'd been walking on clouds. Even her friends seemed to notice a change in her, one they couldn't quite pin down. Ginny had thought that perhaps she was doing something new with her hair while Ron complained about her being easily excitable these days. Harry on the hand had shrewdly discerned that it looked like she wasn't getting enough sleep. All these things were true. She was sleep-deprived, always on edge worried she'd be caught in a lie and her hair was in a chaotic state, even more so than usual, what with Draco always messing it up—

Hermione heard something again. Honestly, that wizard was really going to get it from her this time.

"Look it's not funny anymore," she said loudly.

Her voice carried like an echo and faded out.

There was no one there. Maybe Ron was right. She was definitely losing her marbles.

"Well, well, well…"

Hermione startled violently, a hand to her heart.

"If it isn't the little Mudblood herself."

"Nott!" she exclaimed trying to catch her breath. "You nearly frightened me to death. It's past curfew!"

Tilting his head to a side he scrutinized her.

"I was out looking for some fun," he intoned. "Blaise is with Pansy and well, Draco's always with Tracey, so…"

She frowned. He was?

"That's not really a valid excuse," she reprimanded. "Go back to your dormitory."

He stepped into her.

"Why should I, when I've just run into you?"

She backed away.

"Really," he leered. "I can't believe my luck."

By the look on his face, Hermione suspected that luck had anything to do with it. He had been waiting for her or following her.

"What do you mean?"

She watched as his dark eyes flashed at her. It was unnerving. Hermione tried to move past him but he stepped into her again and her back met cold stone.

"No one ever needs to know. I could just slither-in," he smirked leaning into her. "And slither out. I'd make it worth your while."

Her eyes grew wide.

"Excuse me?"

"Don't play stupid. It doesn't suit you."

She chuckled hoping to disguise her uneasiness. "Sorry, I don't swing that way but I'm pretty sure if you keep going straight and take a left you can go fuck yourself."

His smile turned into an exaggerated pout. "So you'll make an exception for Draco but not for me?"

She gulped. No, he couldn't possibly know. Draco would never have told him. "I don't what you're talking about," she said evenly.

He was smirking again. "Don't put your eggs in one basket love. Why should he get to have all the fun? A witch like you deserves better and besides... whatever Draco knows he's learned from me."

Hermione's eyes searched his. "Funny, last time I checked I was just a Mudblood."

Theo placed his palms on either side of her head, effectively trapping her.

"In my dreams, you're both."

She scoffed. Her voice dripping with sarcasm she sneered, "I'm truly honored."

He hummed and she cringed at how his mannerisms were so much like Draco's.

"Didn't think you were the kind of witch who was happy screwing someone in secret. Especially not while they're off shagging someone else."

Hermione clenched her fists. She knew Nott was baiting her and it was hard not to bite.

"As I said, I have no idea what you're talking about, and neither am I interested in you. So, if you please—"

Theo suddenly kissed her. His lips firm against hers, his hands on her cheeks.

In the next instant, Hermione had shoved him off. She made a show of wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. He gave a hollow laugh that ran down her spine like a cold chill. Distressed, she made to leave, her hand now wrapped around her wand.

He grabbed onto her arm but found himself at the end of her wand and she had half a mind to use it. Letting go, he raised his arms in surrender.

"Mark my words," he smirked. "You'll be begging me to take you when Draco's done playing. He always gets sick of his toys and I always treat them with better care."

Without another word she left, hurrying down the corridor and up to Gryffindor Tower. Prefect duties be damned.

Her heart was thudding violently replaying what had just happened.

Nott's words resonated far longer in her mind than the kiss did on her lips.

Draco had always found Herbology to be a little boring but Theo, to his surprise, had paired with Padma this time so he found himself with Tracey. The chit always managed to turn everything into a joke. Today's class was no different. He had started making it a point not to look at Hermione during classes but he couldn't help catching a glimpse of her every once in a while. He inwardly smiled. Little swot had already managed to splice the root and repot the plant. The only other person who seemed to excel was Longbottom, who Hermione was always paired with. Draco had noticed that, strangely enough, he was the best in Herbology.

Biting the inside of his cheek he fought the urge to message her on the coin. He knew it was too risky to do so right now but the more time he spent with her the more time he wanted to spend with her. Especially now. The last few days Hermione had seemed a bit distant. He assumed she was a little miffed for having bailed on her the last two nights but he had early morning Quidditch practice with Blaise and then regular practice in the evenings. He'd been beyond exhausted. Surely she understood that.

After Herbology, he walked to the Great Hall with Theo, Blaise, Tracey, and Pansy. Blaise was speaking animatedly about how Vaisey had nearly met with another bludger and how he'd almost fallen to his death trying to duck it. Tracey leaned into Draco and whispered something about Vaisey being a dud, but also a stud. He cringed and they both shared a secret laugh.

"Seriously," she chuckled. "I snogged him once. It was fantastic."

He opened his mouth to tell Tracey how he'd caught Vaisey wrapped so tightly around Susan Bones once when from the corner of his periphery he glimpsed a gaggle of Gryffindor's walk in. His eyes followed them to their table. Granger was there. His pulse jumped.

She was glaring daggers at him.

Why what had he done?

Hermione jumped up from her seat to leave.

Except no, she wasn't leaving. She was marching straight to the Slytherin table.

Draco frowned.

Just what the—

"I want a word with you."

It was Tracey who she spoke to and by the tone of her voice, it didn't sound like she wanted to talk at all.

"Get up."

All eyes were on Hermione.

Tracey, on the other hand, had the look of a deer caught in headlights. She looked at Draco and then to the others as if to verify that it wasn't them she was speaking to.

"Who–me?" she asked, a hand to her chest.

Hermione let out a sharp laugh as if Tracey had made a joke. Draco cringed at the harsh sound of it.

"Yes, you."

Potter and Weasley were walking over now too, looking just as confused as Tracey. Honestly, what the hell was she doing? He had to snap her out of whatever this was.

Draco stood slowly.

"Granger," he said quietly. "Be a good little Gryffindor and go back to your table."

Her eyes flashed with anger.

Then the next thing he knew she had launched herself at him, slapping and beating every inch of him repeatedly, punctuating each word with a blow. "You—foul—loathsome—evil—arsehole!"

"For fucksake!" he hissed, catching her wrists as her left hand smacked his cheek and her right almost caught his eye. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he demanded to know. If she wanted to hurt him this was hardly the most efficient way to do so. She should just use her wand. Which is exactly what she did once he managed to throw her off. She cast a stupefy and he fell back knocking over Blaise who had at some point also stood up sensing the escalating situation.

She made to cast another spell but Weasley and Potter were holding her back.

"Hermione!" they both yelled in surprise.

"Blimey!" said Weasley, who was struggling to hold back her arm. "She's lost it!"

But Potter was staring at Draco as if this was all his doing and seemed torn between stopping her and letting her curse him.

The others had jumped up from their seats as well.

Tracey was at his side. "Are you okay?" she asked, rubbing his arm.

Hermione scoffed, a murderous look leveled at Tracey.

Professor Flitwick zipped in with a squeak.

Thank Merlin.

"Professor," said Tracey. "Hermione Granger just viciously attacked Draco."

"It's true," Theo chimed in.

Flitwick looked around flustered. "Well I never—that's detention for you Miss Granger!" he shrilled. "Honestly most unexpected behavior coming from you. I-I—that's ten house points from Gryffindor. Really, I—"

"This isn't over," Draco warned pointedly. To the crowd watching the strange spectacle unfold it sounded very much like a threat. But both he and Hermione knew what it really meant.

Hermione wrenched her arms free and stormed out of the Great Hall with Potter and Weasley rushing after her.

Jealousy was no excuse. He and Tracey were over. He'd made that perfectly clear. So what the hell had she been thinking?

Draco stewed in anger for the rest of the day. In fact, he was so incensed by her irresponsible behavior that when everyone had come to his side to ask if he was alright after being attacked by that barmy Granger, it wasn't difficult to fake his response.

"She's stark raving mad," he told them. "Out of her blooming mind."

He began dreaming up other things to scream at her, he'd threaten to end things, he'd accuse her of being one sandwich short of a picnic, a screw loose, an absolute curse.

I mean, what the bloody hell am I? Her punching bag?

Maybe he'd hit her back a little.

Just a slight shove.

Or a smack.

A tight one.

Right on her sweet round arse.

He groaned burying his face in his hands.

His witch drove him insane.

They hadn't decided to meet but Hermione went to the Room of Requirement, all the same, expecting to find him there waiting for her. When she entered, he was pacing the small space like a lion in a cage. He pounced on her as soon as the door was shut.

"What the hell was that? Are you bloody off your rocker?"

She ignored him, taking off her jumper slowly. She couldn't tolerate him right now, couldn't tolerate that they were both still clothed, that Tracey's hand had been on his arm touching him and she knew Theodore Nott's words were poisoning her mind but there was no helping the spread of an infection.

"Answer me when I speak to you!"

Hermione grabbed him by the nape of his neck and drew him into a bruising kiss. Only she was allowed to do this. He returned it eagerly as if his anger came hand-in-hand with his lust for her. He pushed her onto the bed. They were grabbing at each other's clothes tearing them off. The memory of seeing the two almost kiss at the Three Broomsticks flashed before her eyes. She bit his lip suddenly furious with him for wanting to have kissed anyone other than her, even for a moment.

Draco flinched, wincing in pain.

"You're fucking mad," he huffed.

She looked up into his grey eyes and pressed the flat of her palm against his crotch.

He grunted, jerking.

"You love it," she whispered.

Her fingers moved to unzip his trousers, shaking with the knowledge of what she wanted to do. He was so hard for her he was practically panting, his hot breath mingling with hers. He hissed as she wrapped her palm around his hard length. It felt strange to hold it but his hooded gaze gave her courage, begged her to go on. She tried imitating what she'd watched him do, slightly wary of hurting him.

His forehead fell on hers, his jaw clenched.

"Fuck," he rasped, his fingers fisting the bedsheets. "Yes."

Captivated by the control she had over him she watched his features closely. How his eyes were dark pools, the strands of his blonde hair falling forward as he watched what she was doing. She let go of his erection to explore the rest of him with an open palm. She pulled him down into an open mouth kiss, feeling his soft wet tongue and the sticky heat between them. He growled against her mouth as she gently cupped his crotch. Hermione was beginning to understand that all she really had to do was touch him. She didn't know how much his reaction had to do with the fact that it was her rather than any girl and it made her crave validation.

"Do you love me?" she whispered.

His gaze consumed her. "You know I do."

Hermione blushed. "Say it," she commanded. "Say you love me."

"I love you," he shuddered.

Practically trembled.

Maybe because it sounded like he was telling her for the first time. He wasn't shouting it at her, the words weren't wrenched from his throat, they were soft and she wanted to hear them again and again. Draco gently took her hand and guided her back to his erection. They looked deeply into each other's eyes as he moved his hand over hers, silently showing her. He let her take control as she grew more confident in her movements. She varied the pressure and the movements desperately wanting to watch him fall apart, to give him what he always gave her. His arms began to shake. She noticed the tip was wet and compelled by her curiosity she brushed her thumb against it. He let out a deep groan. Her eyes caught his and she rubbed the slippery wet substance against the head of his penis. He bucked into her hand and groaned again. Hermione kissed him, bit him, whispering sweet nothings into his ear, completely intoxicated by the way he seemed to be under her mercy. There was something so hypnotic about the way his body moved, his back muscles rippling every time he jerked into her hand. She watched as his paced quickened and a few moments later he fisted her hair with a muffled grunt, his body seizing. Her hand and stomach suddenly covered in warm fluid.

He fell on his back, alongside her, his eyes closed catching his breath. She turned to her side, his cum trailing down her skin. But she didn't mind. She felt amazing. He was like putty in her hands.

She began tracing his face, over and over again; the curve of his lips, the bridge of his nose, his eyebrows and temple.

It wasn't fair to be so pretty.

"I'm still angry with you," he murmured. "Don't think that doing that means you're off the hook."

She bit back a smile. "But I was just being a good little Gryffindor."

He opened his eyes to look at her. "What is this? What's gotten into you?"

Hermione sighed in exasperation rolling onto her back. Without his body atop of hers, it was cold and her arms reflexively covered her bare chest. He sat up to cast a cleaning charm and then drew the covers over them both. She turned onto her side and shifted closer to him. It was strange how mentally she wanted to withdraw from him, from his knowing eyes and persistent questions and at the same time, she wanted to melt into him, to cocoon herself in his arms.

He didn't ask again but she knew he was waiting for an answer. She couldn't tell him about Nott's ambush. It would only hurt him, and possibly Nott himself would be hurt, maimed, maybe. The full truth, she'd already reasoned was out of the question, but she could give him half of it.

"You don't know how it feels to be invisible to you the whole day. To be no one. To have this part of you and nothing else. It's different for you, you're a boy. Small things like sitting next to you in class, holding hands, walking the halls together, it all counts. This is my first real relationship and I'm not even allowed to speak to you except behind closed doors. And then we do all of these intimate things and I worry if I'm making a terrible mistake being with you… I'm sorry. I just get so jealous of Tracey having what I'm denied."

Draco was quiet. His eyes to the ceiling.

"You are making a mistake," he said softly. "I'm probably the biggest mistake you make Hermione and you're probably the biggest mistake I ever make. I already know that and I'm making it just the same. This is the only way I know for us to be together and I'm desperate enough to take what I can get. It's a lot more than I ever thought possible so I'm okay with the pretending and waiting. You're worth it. I just… I didn't care to know or ask you if I was…"

She watched as he turned on his side. His eyes bore into hers.

"But I'm asking now…"

Her heart was racing as it dawned on her what he really wanted to know, what he wanted her to say. She'd never considered that maybe she needed to say it, that he was the type of boy who needed to hear the words as much as she did.

She smiled, tasting salt.

"I love you, Draco Malfoy."

His eyes danced over her face and then his mouth fell on hers in a scorching kiss, his hand buried in her hair and the other wrapped tightly around her neck.

Before kissing her again, he dragged in a shaky breath and whispered, "What took you so fucking long?"