Thank you all for your kind thoughts and prayers for my grandfather. It's
been a tough time for me and I'm glad to get back into writing. I hope you
all enjoy this chapter, just as all of your generous words before told me
that you enjoyed the others.thank you for all of your comments.each and
every one of you.
As always I disclaim.and the big formal one is in Part One.
Part Three
"Do you think that when I woke up this morning I though 'Gee, I'd really like to spend my evening picking up after Gryffindor's very own Mudblood Granger?'" Draco said as he made his way across the common room and into the bathroom where Hermione knelt on the cold marble floor surrounded by hundreds of shards of glass.
Muttering a quick spell under his breath he watched as the pieces flew back up over the sink, once more forming a mirror.
Looking at his own reflection Draco could already see bags forming underneath his steely gray eyes.
*I have to get at least nine hours of sleep every night. If I look less than one-hundred percent tomorrow, I swear she'll pay.*
"You think I had this in mind either?" She asked breaking his thoughts. Cradling her right hand, she began to stand up, wincing at the ache between her legs.
Watching, and yet never offering a hand, hey, he had done enough already, he saw the blood smeared across the knuckles of her right hand.
"Smooth Granger. What did that mirror ever do to you?" He sneered at her stupidity.
"Turns out its name was Draco Malfoy." She bit back.
"Look, I can walk away right now." He threatened.
"Then why don't you Malfoy? Hmm? You've had plenty of opportunities and yet you keep coming back. Why, so you can have more ammo? So tomorrow you and your two goons can have a good laugh at my expense? So you can brag at the next Death Eaters meeting about how a stupid Mudblood got what was coming to her?" Hermione yelled, the knuckles on her good hand clenched so tight in a fist they began to turn white.
"I'm not a Death Eater." He protested, unsure if it was because he was insulted that she had assumed, embarrassed that he wasn't, or ashamed that he would one day have to be.
"That doesn't matter, I'm sure your loving every second of this." She cried, tears threatening to spill.
"Do I love seeing you weak? Yes. In my debt? Absolutely."
"See!"
"Shut up and let me finish. No matter how evil you and the rest of your Muggle Lovers claim I am, I would never want any woman to be violated. Even you. Would I love to see Voldemort finally kill Potter, or a Bludger crack open Weasley's head, or you crushed underneath a stack of books?" He paused grinning at the thoughts. "Hell yes. But you don't deserve this. Whoever did this is sick and disturbed. I mean to choose a Mudblood of all people."
Watching her eyes fill with fury and her mouth open wide, he continued.
"But that's not the point. I'm not going to tell anyone, I've already promised you that. So, I'm not going to laugh about it behind your back. If I were going to laugh I'd do it to your face. You're my worst enemy and I wouldn't wish this on you." Draco said sincerely.
"Right." Hermione said composing herself. "Now could you get the hell out of her so I can clean up?" She said pushing him out, both glad that the awkwardness between them was broken.
Turning around, he felt as well as heard the door slam shut behind him.
"That's right filthy Mudblood, clean yourself." He said half- heartedly. *Even that's no fun right now. Guess I'll have to try and say that to her face later. That'll make up for being nice earlier.*
Looking around the empty room he couldn't help but feel a little lost. Pacing the length between each of their rooms, he tried not to focus on the distant sound of running water.
*Just go to bed.* The logical voice in his head began again. *You have an out, take it.*
"Clothes. She'll need clothes." Draco said aloud, ignoring the voice, as he made his way over to her door. Placing a hand on the antique doorknob he managed to push open the door slightly, just before alarms started to ring causing the door to slam shut right on his face.
Crying out, his hands flew up to his nose. Pulling one hand away he looked at his palm covered in.
BLOOD
Hermione couldn't seem to get it off, no matter how hard she scrubbed all she could see was red.
But she didn't realize that the blood was now long gone, having washed down the drain almost instantly, pouring off of her legs and hand. For Hermione Granger would always see the blood.
It didn't matter that her skin was now bright red from the scolding shower and her scouring.
*I thought washing it off would help, but it's still there.*
Taking the bar of soap Hermione dug her nails into it, scraping them across the surface, just like.
"No!" She said aloud shaking her head, her long hair splashing water droplets against the pounding steam of water. "Please no." She cried sinking to her knees.
Once more she could feel the sobs taking over, but before she could let them escape, a pounding on the door interrupted her.
"What?" She screamed, her words taking on a new emotion.
"Don't you what me Granger." She heard Draco yell through the door. "I've just come to bring you some clothes." Hermione heard the door creak open slightly then slam shut just as quickly.
Peering out from behind the large enclosed shower, she saw that a green t-shirt and black silk boxers lay on the floor.
"Great, Slytherin colours." Collecting herself she turned the water off and walked out of the shower.
Grabbing her towel, she began to rub herself raw, but this time in an attempt to dry herself.
Watching as her skin became even redder, she threw her towel in disgust. Walking over, and careful to avoid the mirror, so not to induce another incident like when she had first seen her reflection, Hermione bent down and picked up the clothes.
Wincing as she lifted her leg into the black boxers, Hermione couldn't help but feel disgusted by the fact that she was wearing Draco Malfoy's clothes.
Foregoing any primping, she placed the t-shirt over her head. Looking down she couldn't help but notice how much the clothes hung on her. Sure, Draco appeared lean, but with his clothes enveloping her, Hermione couldn't help but notice how much bigger than her he was.
Once more shaking her head she stepped out of the bathroom, watching as the steam floated out along with her.
"Always knew I could get you into my pants." Draco said smirking from his armchair near the fire.
"So you're implying that you've thought about it then." She said smirking back, having caught him at his own game.
Watching as his smirk turned into a scowl, Hermione decided against teasing him further. "Why didn't you just get some of my clothes since you were being so hospitable?" She asked.
Continuing to scowl he point to his nose which was still slightly red, although the bleeding had stopped.
"Oh. The alarms." She said realizing.
"Yeah." He grumbled, swearing payback if he looked less than ninety- five percent tomorrow.
"Well, I'll go get changed now and give them back."
"No." He said putting a hand up. "I'm just going to have a house elf come and get them later so that he can burn them.
"Okay." Hermione said without argument, having given up her SPEW movement after her dealings with Kreacher in her fifth year. "Have them get my dress too." She said.
"What do I look like, your maid?" He asked with an indignant snort.
"I want them burned." She said ignoring him.
Seeing the seriousness in her eyes, he knew better than to continue arguing.
"Right. Well it's been a long day, so I suggest we both go to sleep."
"I'm going to stay out here for a little while longer." Hermione said from her spot on the sofa, entranced by the fire.
"Well, goodnight Granger." He said once more walking back to his room, never waiting for a response.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
"No! No! Please no!"
Sitting straight up, the terrified screams woke Draco from his sleep. Reaching for his wand he jumped up quickly and stormed into the common room, ready for an attack.
Instead he only saw Hermione thrashing on the couch.
Not caring that he was dressed only in a pair of black silk boxers, identical to the ones he had given Hermione, he made his way over to the sofa and placed a hand on her arm.
But she didn't awake, instead his touch had a strange calming effect. Pulling away as if he had been burned, he watched as her movements stilled and her cries stopped.
"It's all right Hermione. You're fine." He said awkwardly. Reaching on the back of the sofa he grabbed both a red throw and a green one. Covering Hermione up with the red one, Draco turned and once more sat in his armchair, covering himself up with his own throw.
"Less than eighty-six percent." He mumbled as he watched her from his seat, the fire roaring behind him, keeping them both warm, as his eyelids began to drop.
And just before he left the land of waking again, he assured himself that tomorrow this would all be over.
* * * * * * * *
* * * * *
*Where the hell is Hermione?* Harry Potter thought to himself as he wrote down the ingredients for the potion that they would be brewing today.
Both Hermione and Harry had decided to take NEWT Potions for their sixth and seventh years at Hogwarts. Hermione, as predicted, had scored perfect on her OWLs for Potions and was more than happy to take another two years with Snape.
Meanwhile Harry had done surprisingly well on his own Potions OWLs, but was more than happy to be free of Snape. But it was Professor Dumbledore who had talked Harry into taking the class, mostly to help continue to cover for Harry's Occlumency lessons with Snape.
Because what self-respecting Gryffindor would willingly be seen with anyone associated with Slytherin. Especially Snape.
So, each week, Snape would give Harry at least one extra undeserved detention (not like the others were deserved), and teach him under the guise of punishment.
They had been doing this for two years, but Harry still had yet to master it. He still let his emotions control him. It was that weakness that had cost people their lives, and it didn't help that Snape was the one who was teaching him.
Ron had escaped Snape, but at least he had Hermione to share the misery that was Double Potions with.
*But where is she?* He thought once more.
Not only was he missing his partner, but also he was worried about his best friend.
Hermione never missed classes. The only time Harry could truly recall that happening was in their second year. And that was against her own will. Every other time anything happened she would always drag herself to class.
And to top it off he had not seen her in two days. Ron had said she would meet them at The Three Broomsticks last night but she never showed up.
'Probably studying.' Ron had said. But he was too involved with Lavender Brown to care.
But Harry did care. Too much in fact. For it was Harry that had Ron make sure she was coming for Valentine's Day.
And after that incident with Cho Chang back in fifth year, Harry didn't want to risk another Valentine's Day catastrophe.
Ron was supposed to have set it up, get her there, then Harry would- well he didn't know what exactly, but it didn't matter. She never showed.
He had been too tired last night to go find her, but he knew he would see her in Potions. Then he could see what was wrong.
*But that didn't work out did it?* He thought glancing at the empty seat next to him.
Just as he was about to begin preparing the ingredients he needed, Harry's head jerked back up as the dungeon door slammed shut.
"Malfoy." Harry mumbled, the hopeful look disappearing from his face as he turned back to his work.
"Mr. Malfoy." Snape said as he watched the normally calm Slytherin try to regain his breath and composure. "How nice of you to finally grace us with your presence."
Turing his head to the side, Snape saw Harry peeking up at them. Sighing he turned back to Draco. "I'm afraid I'll have to take away three house points for your tardiness."
*It would be fifteen for a Gryffindor.* Harry thought bitterly as he watched Malfoy make his way to his seat. "Prig." He mumbled as the smug Slytherin bumped into his table.
Glaring at Harry's comment Snape ignored him and turned his attention back to Draco. "Well Mr. Malfoy, since our very own Mr. Potter doesn't seem very talkative today, perhaps you could tell us where your fellow Head is."
Glancing at the now very attentive Potter, Draco couldn't help but smirk at the glare he was receiving from the boy wonder.
*Oh, this is too easy.* Draco thought. He was late for Potions and he was only around seventy-eight percent. It was definitely time to payback the Mudblood.
"Oh I can tell you exactly where she is and why she isn't here." He said as the whole class, but especially Harry, leaned in closer.
* * * * * * * * * * *
"Hermione!" Harry yelled breathlessly as he banged on the entrance to the Head's common room, receiving glares from all of Hogwarts founders, having run directly there as soon as Potions was over. "Hermione!" He called once more just as the door flung open.
"What?" She asked sleepily, rubbing her eyes.
Taking in her disheveled appearance, and the fact that she was dressed in too larger Slytherin coloured clothes, Harry couldn't help but wonder further about what Malfoy had said. What was he really playing at.
"What is it Harry?" Hermione asked, beginning to become irritated, even in her tired state.
"I came to see how you were." He began. "I was concerned about you. Malfoy told me what happened."
Starring up into the concerned green eyes of her best friend, Hermione's mouth dropped open.
And it was those green eyes that were the last thing she saw before her world turned black.
As always I disclaim.and the big formal one is in Part One.
Part Three
"Do you think that when I woke up this morning I though 'Gee, I'd really like to spend my evening picking up after Gryffindor's very own Mudblood Granger?'" Draco said as he made his way across the common room and into the bathroom where Hermione knelt on the cold marble floor surrounded by hundreds of shards of glass.
Muttering a quick spell under his breath he watched as the pieces flew back up over the sink, once more forming a mirror.
Looking at his own reflection Draco could already see bags forming underneath his steely gray eyes.
*I have to get at least nine hours of sleep every night. If I look less than one-hundred percent tomorrow, I swear she'll pay.*
"You think I had this in mind either?" She asked breaking his thoughts. Cradling her right hand, she began to stand up, wincing at the ache between her legs.
Watching, and yet never offering a hand, hey, he had done enough already, he saw the blood smeared across the knuckles of her right hand.
"Smooth Granger. What did that mirror ever do to you?" He sneered at her stupidity.
"Turns out its name was Draco Malfoy." She bit back.
"Look, I can walk away right now." He threatened.
"Then why don't you Malfoy? Hmm? You've had plenty of opportunities and yet you keep coming back. Why, so you can have more ammo? So tomorrow you and your two goons can have a good laugh at my expense? So you can brag at the next Death Eaters meeting about how a stupid Mudblood got what was coming to her?" Hermione yelled, the knuckles on her good hand clenched so tight in a fist they began to turn white.
"I'm not a Death Eater." He protested, unsure if it was because he was insulted that she had assumed, embarrassed that he wasn't, or ashamed that he would one day have to be.
"That doesn't matter, I'm sure your loving every second of this." She cried, tears threatening to spill.
"Do I love seeing you weak? Yes. In my debt? Absolutely."
"See!"
"Shut up and let me finish. No matter how evil you and the rest of your Muggle Lovers claim I am, I would never want any woman to be violated. Even you. Would I love to see Voldemort finally kill Potter, or a Bludger crack open Weasley's head, or you crushed underneath a stack of books?" He paused grinning at the thoughts. "Hell yes. But you don't deserve this. Whoever did this is sick and disturbed. I mean to choose a Mudblood of all people."
Watching her eyes fill with fury and her mouth open wide, he continued.
"But that's not the point. I'm not going to tell anyone, I've already promised you that. So, I'm not going to laugh about it behind your back. If I were going to laugh I'd do it to your face. You're my worst enemy and I wouldn't wish this on you." Draco said sincerely.
"Right." Hermione said composing herself. "Now could you get the hell out of her so I can clean up?" She said pushing him out, both glad that the awkwardness between them was broken.
Turning around, he felt as well as heard the door slam shut behind him.
"That's right filthy Mudblood, clean yourself." He said half- heartedly. *Even that's no fun right now. Guess I'll have to try and say that to her face later. That'll make up for being nice earlier.*
Looking around the empty room he couldn't help but feel a little lost. Pacing the length between each of their rooms, he tried not to focus on the distant sound of running water.
*Just go to bed.* The logical voice in his head began again. *You have an out, take it.*
"Clothes. She'll need clothes." Draco said aloud, ignoring the voice, as he made his way over to her door. Placing a hand on the antique doorknob he managed to push open the door slightly, just before alarms started to ring causing the door to slam shut right on his face.
Crying out, his hands flew up to his nose. Pulling one hand away he looked at his palm covered in.
BLOOD
Hermione couldn't seem to get it off, no matter how hard she scrubbed all she could see was red.
But she didn't realize that the blood was now long gone, having washed down the drain almost instantly, pouring off of her legs and hand. For Hermione Granger would always see the blood.
It didn't matter that her skin was now bright red from the scolding shower and her scouring.
*I thought washing it off would help, but it's still there.*
Taking the bar of soap Hermione dug her nails into it, scraping them across the surface, just like.
"No!" She said aloud shaking her head, her long hair splashing water droplets against the pounding steam of water. "Please no." She cried sinking to her knees.
Once more she could feel the sobs taking over, but before she could let them escape, a pounding on the door interrupted her.
"What?" She screamed, her words taking on a new emotion.
"Don't you what me Granger." She heard Draco yell through the door. "I've just come to bring you some clothes." Hermione heard the door creak open slightly then slam shut just as quickly.
Peering out from behind the large enclosed shower, she saw that a green t-shirt and black silk boxers lay on the floor.
"Great, Slytherin colours." Collecting herself she turned the water off and walked out of the shower.
Grabbing her towel, she began to rub herself raw, but this time in an attempt to dry herself.
Watching as her skin became even redder, she threw her towel in disgust. Walking over, and careful to avoid the mirror, so not to induce another incident like when she had first seen her reflection, Hermione bent down and picked up the clothes.
Wincing as she lifted her leg into the black boxers, Hermione couldn't help but feel disgusted by the fact that she was wearing Draco Malfoy's clothes.
Foregoing any primping, she placed the t-shirt over her head. Looking down she couldn't help but notice how much the clothes hung on her. Sure, Draco appeared lean, but with his clothes enveloping her, Hermione couldn't help but notice how much bigger than her he was.
Once more shaking her head she stepped out of the bathroom, watching as the steam floated out along with her.
"Always knew I could get you into my pants." Draco said smirking from his armchair near the fire.
"So you're implying that you've thought about it then." She said smirking back, having caught him at his own game.
Watching as his smirk turned into a scowl, Hermione decided against teasing him further. "Why didn't you just get some of my clothes since you were being so hospitable?" She asked.
Continuing to scowl he point to his nose which was still slightly red, although the bleeding had stopped.
"Oh. The alarms." She said realizing.
"Yeah." He grumbled, swearing payback if he looked less than ninety- five percent tomorrow.
"Well, I'll go get changed now and give them back."
"No." He said putting a hand up. "I'm just going to have a house elf come and get them later so that he can burn them.
"Okay." Hermione said without argument, having given up her SPEW movement after her dealings with Kreacher in her fifth year. "Have them get my dress too." She said.
"What do I look like, your maid?" He asked with an indignant snort.
"I want them burned." She said ignoring him.
Seeing the seriousness in her eyes, he knew better than to continue arguing.
"Right. Well it's been a long day, so I suggest we both go to sleep."
"I'm going to stay out here for a little while longer." Hermione said from her spot on the sofa, entranced by the fire.
"Well, goodnight Granger." He said once more walking back to his room, never waiting for a response.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
"No! No! Please no!"
Sitting straight up, the terrified screams woke Draco from his sleep. Reaching for his wand he jumped up quickly and stormed into the common room, ready for an attack.
Instead he only saw Hermione thrashing on the couch.
Not caring that he was dressed only in a pair of black silk boxers, identical to the ones he had given Hermione, he made his way over to the sofa and placed a hand on her arm.
But she didn't awake, instead his touch had a strange calming effect. Pulling away as if he had been burned, he watched as her movements stilled and her cries stopped.
"It's all right Hermione. You're fine." He said awkwardly. Reaching on the back of the sofa he grabbed both a red throw and a green one. Covering Hermione up with the red one, Draco turned and once more sat in his armchair, covering himself up with his own throw.
"Less than eighty-six percent." He mumbled as he watched her from his seat, the fire roaring behind him, keeping them both warm, as his eyelids began to drop.
And just before he left the land of waking again, he assured himself that tomorrow this would all be over.
* * * * * * * *
* * * * *
*Where the hell is Hermione?* Harry Potter thought to himself as he wrote down the ingredients for the potion that they would be brewing today.
Both Hermione and Harry had decided to take NEWT Potions for their sixth and seventh years at Hogwarts. Hermione, as predicted, had scored perfect on her OWLs for Potions and was more than happy to take another two years with Snape.
Meanwhile Harry had done surprisingly well on his own Potions OWLs, but was more than happy to be free of Snape. But it was Professor Dumbledore who had talked Harry into taking the class, mostly to help continue to cover for Harry's Occlumency lessons with Snape.
Because what self-respecting Gryffindor would willingly be seen with anyone associated with Slytherin. Especially Snape.
So, each week, Snape would give Harry at least one extra undeserved detention (not like the others were deserved), and teach him under the guise of punishment.
They had been doing this for two years, but Harry still had yet to master it. He still let his emotions control him. It was that weakness that had cost people their lives, and it didn't help that Snape was the one who was teaching him.
Ron had escaped Snape, but at least he had Hermione to share the misery that was Double Potions with.
*But where is she?* He thought once more.
Not only was he missing his partner, but also he was worried about his best friend.
Hermione never missed classes. The only time Harry could truly recall that happening was in their second year. And that was against her own will. Every other time anything happened she would always drag herself to class.
And to top it off he had not seen her in two days. Ron had said she would meet them at The Three Broomsticks last night but she never showed up.
'Probably studying.' Ron had said. But he was too involved with Lavender Brown to care.
But Harry did care. Too much in fact. For it was Harry that had Ron make sure she was coming for Valentine's Day.
And after that incident with Cho Chang back in fifth year, Harry didn't want to risk another Valentine's Day catastrophe.
Ron was supposed to have set it up, get her there, then Harry would- well he didn't know what exactly, but it didn't matter. She never showed.
He had been too tired last night to go find her, but he knew he would see her in Potions. Then he could see what was wrong.
*But that didn't work out did it?* He thought glancing at the empty seat next to him.
Just as he was about to begin preparing the ingredients he needed, Harry's head jerked back up as the dungeon door slammed shut.
"Malfoy." Harry mumbled, the hopeful look disappearing from his face as he turned back to his work.
"Mr. Malfoy." Snape said as he watched the normally calm Slytherin try to regain his breath and composure. "How nice of you to finally grace us with your presence."
Turing his head to the side, Snape saw Harry peeking up at them. Sighing he turned back to Draco. "I'm afraid I'll have to take away three house points for your tardiness."
*It would be fifteen for a Gryffindor.* Harry thought bitterly as he watched Malfoy make his way to his seat. "Prig." He mumbled as the smug Slytherin bumped into his table.
Glaring at Harry's comment Snape ignored him and turned his attention back to Draco. "Well Mr. Malfoy, since our very own Mr. Potter doesn't seem very talkative today, perhaps you could tell us where your fellow Head is."
Glancing at the now very attentive Potter, Draco couldn't help but smirk at the glare he was receiving from the boy wonder.
*Oh, this is too easy.* Draco thought. He was late for Potions and he was only around seventy-eight percent. It was definitely time to payback the Mudblood.
"Oh I can tell you exactly where she is and why she isn't here." He said as the whole class, but especially Harry, leaned in closer.
* * * * * * * * * * *
"Hermione!" Harry yelled breathlessly as he banged on the entrance to the Head's common room, receiving glares from all of Hogwarts founders, having run directly there as soon as Potions was over. "Hermione!" He called once more just as the door flung open.
"What?" She asked sleepily, rubbing her eyes.
Taking in her disheveled appearance, and the fact that she was dressed in too larger Slytherin coloured clothes, Harry couldn't help but wonder further about what Malfoy had said. What was he really playing at.
"What is it Harry?" Hermione asked, beginning to become irritated, even in her tired state.
"I came to see how you were." He began. "I was concerned about you. Malfoy told me what happened."
Starring up into the concerned green eyes of her best friend, Hermione's mouth dropped open.
And it was those green eyes that were the last thing she saw before her world turned black.