Author's Note: Yay!!! Sorry it took so long to write this chapter, but, you know, Fourth of July, fire, smoke, fireworks, more smoke, and pyromania. Anyways, I'm so happy; I received four more reviews!!! So, this chapter is basically for my five readers, but still, five is good enough for me! Also, I'm partially writing this story for my own amusement, so that I can find out what happens… even though I already do know what happens. I don't know what I'm talking about but who cares? The point is, this is CHAPTER THREE! (Cheers from adoring fans)

Oh, and the part where I say "Malfoy's burly body" in the previous chapter, I don't mean muscular and six-pack abs, I just mean that he's built, and not pitifully skeletal. Hope you enjoy! (Looks hopeful)

Oh, and if you like the story, review, so that I know! And if you don't like the story, review anyways, so that I know!

Chapter Three: Stained

Hermione woke the next morning feeling refreshed and nervous. The memories of the night before tumbled back to her. She then became worried and tense at what Draco's revenge would consist of, but she shrugged it off, and headed to the Great Hall before anyone else had woken up.

When Harry and Ron came down, she relayed the previous night's events to them.

"WHAT DID THAT BLOODY RAT SAY? WHO DOES HE THINK HE IS TALKING TO YOU LIKE THAT? I'M GOING TO STRANGLE HIM WITH MY BARE HANDS AND THEN RIP OUT ALL OF HIS ORGANS THE LITTLE"- Hermione repressed a chuckle as Ron began calling Malfoy some very rude words, before he calmed down. (Author's Note: Use your imagination for the rude words that he says.)

"Ron, it's okay. I handled the situation," she said with a knowing twinkle in her eye. When she told them about her violent outburst in the Head common room both Harry and Ron winced.

"Hermione, I know you're old enough to defend yourself, but this is Malfoy. He's not going to let you off that easily. I think Ron and I should stick with you for the rest of the week. Maybe even the year…" As Harry was saying this Ginny bounded into the Great Hall and plopped herself between Hermione and Harry. She took notice of their grim faces.

"Did somebody die?" She inquired curiously. The last time she had seen the boys looking so worried was when Hermione was petrified.

"No, but someone is going to if they don't keep their grimy hands off Hermione," Ron grumbled, jerking his head in Malfoy's direction. At this, Ginny's eyes opened wide in alarm.

"Oh my gosh, what happened?" She asked fearfully. She knew that anything involving Malfoy would be nothing short of brutal.

For the second time that morning Hermione recited Malfoy's advances on her. Now that Hermione thought about it, she was scared. Oh, my gosh. I hit another student. I could be kicked out of my position for this. I could be expelled for this! Expelled in my final year! Then her common sense kicked in. Wait, Malfoy wouldn't report me. He would think it was weak or something. He'll just get even… or worse…

Hermione looked up at Harry and Ron, with the most subtle hint of uneasiness in her eyes. "I think I would be very grateful if you guys stayed with me today actually."

Thankfully, the Trio didn't encounter Malfoy until after Care of Magical creatures, their last class of the day. As Harry, Ron, and Hermione began lumbering toward the castle, they ran into none other than the person they were dreading to meet.

"Well, mudblood, I see you have your human shields with you again. Funny, I recall you saying you weren't afraid of me," Draco sneered, nodding toward Harry and Ron.

Harry had an expressionless look on his face, while Ron's hatred was not so subtle. His hands were shaking with anger, and his arms would twitch, as if he was struggling to control his urges to throttle Malfoy.

"She has something called 'friend's' Malfoy, you should get some," Harry spat. Ron was holding his tongue, and Hermione was very appreciative, because she didn't need her best friend to burst into a tirade on the first day of classes.

(Author's Note: In my story, Malfoy ditched Crabbe and Goyle to befriend Blaise Zabini, and a bunch of good looking people, because Crabbe and Goyle were too thick and dim to understand any of Draco's plans of mass destruction.)

"Hmm… no Potter, I think the word for her relationship with you and Weasley would be whore," Draco said coolly.

"Of course you would know all about those wouldn't you Malfoy, since your daddy has to buy you the best ones because no one would snog a sod like you?" Ron roared. Both Hermione and Harry grabbed onto the back of Ron's robes incase he let Malfoy's snide comments get the best of him.

Malfoy ignored Ron's outburst and turned to Hermione. "I'll see you in the common room," he drawled. Before he started heading toward the castle, he gave Hermione a wink.

All at once Hermione felt a mixture of hate, anger, and a tiny hint of curiosity. What was that all about?... No, I don't want to know! Knowing him it will be something vile. Then again it's not everyday guys run around winking at me... SO? Who cares? If it's someone like Malfoy winking at me, then I don't want guys to give me attention.

Ron looked murderous, even more than he usually does when Malfoy's around. He kept clenching and unclenching his fists, as if debating whether to strangle the ferret, or punch him in the gut. Without realizing it, Hermione grabbed his hand.

Harry, apparently the only one who noticed this because the others were too busy trying to figure out the reason behind Malfoy's actions, smiled inwardly. About time, he thought.

Ron's hand tingled with exhilaration as he felt Hermione's soft, elegant fingers link with his rough, course ones. He smiled with contentment and forgot all about Malfoy and his wink.

When Hermione's gaze traveled up to Ron's face, her heart did summersaults. The way his tresses fell sexily in front of his eyes, causing him to brush them out of his line of vision all the time, made Hermione want to run her fingers through his hair. It looked so silky and smooth, and the rolling fog on the school grounds couldn't dull his glossy, scarlet mane.

(Author's Note: When I say mane, I don't want you guys to imagine Ron with this big hairy head or anything. It's just another word for hair! I know most of you think I'm stupid for pointing out the obvious, but there are some very -er- "special" people in the world.)

Just then, Lavender and Parvati hurried by them, giggling like maniacs. Ron and Hermione looked down at their hands intertwined with each other's and quickly let go.

------------------------------------------Later that day-----------------------------------------

(Author's Note: I know the above probably looks stupid, but it's just there so you don't get confused, since someone told me to add things like that.)

After dinner Hermione headed back to her dormitories to start her homework. When she finished an essay on the uses of a banshee's strand of hair, she decided to get ready for bed. She had just slipped into her pajamas and was about to go brush her teeth, when she saw Malfoy in the bathroom, shirtless, fiddling with his platinum blonde hair. When he saw Hermione come in a wicked grin spread across his fairly attractive visage.

"I've been waiting for you," he said in a secretive voice.

"Why on Earth would you be waiting for me?" Hermione asked cautiously. She didn't like seeing his shirtless body. She didn't like looking at her own body. Her eyes darted around the room, at the towels, the sink, anything other than his cold gray eyes, or bare chest.

"I think you owe me an apology for what happened last night," he said softly. He began to stride toward her, and she once again was walking backward, away from him.

"I don't owe you anything. I asked you to let me leave, and you didn't, so I had every right to defend myself, from whatever you were planning to do," Hermione said defensively. No way was she going to beg him for forgiveness because of his own actions. All the curiosity about why he was waiting for her was replaced with anger and annoyance. How dare he even ask that I say sorry!

(Author's Note: When you see italics, just assume it's the person thinking, because I was getting really tired of writing "He thought," or "She thought to herself," 'cause I mean, I'm hoping you guys are smart enough to know that if there are no quotation marks, it means they are not talking. Also, I do not write what Malfoy is thinking, because Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny are my only thought-bubble characters.)

As he continued to strut toward her, Hermione couldn't help notice that he had a nice torso. It wasn't a six pack, but it was well-defined. Hermione cursed herself for even looking at his upper body, and resumed staring at the ivory hand towels by the porcelain sink. Wait, no, he'll think I'm trying to avoid his gaze. I have to stand my ground. I have to defend myself. I have to stop talking to myself. Hermione's chocolate eyes stared straight back into his silvery Sickle eyes, as she continued slowly stepping away from him.

Suddenly her body collided with something hard and solid. Oh crap. I hit the wall again.

Before she could even scamper away like a bunny from a fox, she saw that Malfoy was now directly in front of her. He then placed his hands on either sides of the wall she had backed into, sort of caging her between them.

"Well, if you're not going to apologize, I think you deserve to be punished," Malfoy drawled. It looked like he had just washed his hair, so little droplets of water were splattering onto Hermione's clothes.

"I don't think you have the authority to do any such thing," Hermione snapped. She was getting sick of his mind games, and it was only the second day back.

"I don't mean detention Granger," he said. He took a step closer, causing his chest to brush against her pajama front. She raised her hands to push him back, but he grabbed them, and held them to her sides. His breath smelled minty, as though he had just brushed his teeth.

"How many times do I have to tell you to not touch me?" Hermione demanded. Malfoy just continued to smile at her, making her heartbeat rise, both with alarm and something Hermione only felt around Ron. It wasn't exactly a sneer, but it was more like a devilish grin, like he had a secret that only he knew.

He leaned in and said quietly in her ear, "Until I'm through with you."

Then Malfoy shoved his body against hers, ensnaring her between the wall and himself. It felt as though she had been paralyzed from the waist down. He bent his head down so that his lips brushed part of her ear. "Don't enjoy this too much, mudblood," he whispered. Hermione quickly turned her head to evade what she had a strong feeling he was going to do.

Malfoy slammed his mouth against her cheek. When he realized her head was turned he switched toward his default plan, and began gently kissing her cheek, and nibbling her ear. Hermione's heart raced as his lips brushed against her skin. She wriggled in his arms as she struggled to get away. This isn't good. Malfoy is kissing me. MALFOY is kissing ME. Why? Why, of all people, is Malfoy kissing me? When did he become such a good kisser?... No, don't think that! Escape! Escape I say!

Malfoy's lips went from her cheek down her neck. He left a trail of burning pleasure along her jaw line. He then began to focus on one spot, visible when wearing school robes, make-up, perhaps even scarves. His lips made her neck feel as if it was an inferno. She wasn't used to feeling this sensation around guys, and was very reluctant to be sharing this experience with her worst enemy. Hermione wasn't going to give in to her urges, even though she felt like she wanted to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him like there was no tomorrow.

"Get off," she wheezed, since he was crushing her lungs and couldn't exactly scream. Even though there was a moderately sexy seventeen year-old shirtless guy pinning her against the wall, smothering her with kisses, she knew this was wrong. Though she wasn't sure of his true intent, she had a feeling that it wasn't because he felt passion or affection for her.

He's up to something. He's always up to something. But how would kissing a "mudblood" fit into an evil scheme? I mean, shouldn't this be more torture for him? Why isn't he worried about me poisoning his almighty pureblood-ness?! I wish Harry and Ron were here. Why do I always end up in situations like these!?! I miss Ron… How can I think of Ron at a time like this? Malfoy's practically on top of me and I'm thinking about Ron!?!?

Malfoy just continued sucking her neck, knowing all too well that there would be a mark that wouldn't go away for quite awhile. She cringed every time she felt his tongue meet her smooth, slender neck. She felt as though there were flames licking her collar bone as his lips pressed roughly against it.

Hermione began to fight with less force, partly because she was tired and knew it was hopeless, partly because every nerve in her body wanted him to keep kissing her.

Malfoy seemed to be enjoying feeling her squirm next to his body. His free hand started slinking around her thin waist. He always enjoyed a challenge, as long as it wasn't related to school. Once he was satisfied with his work, he rested his head against hers, and murmured, "Well, mudblood, hope you didn't get too much pleasure from. After all, how would Potty and Weasel feel?"

"So that's why you're doing this to me? To hurt Ron and Harry?" Hermione said in a strangled sort of way, since he was still smashing her into the wall.

"I guess you could say that. Also, I heard that Gryffindors were the best in bed, but I was going to test that later," Malfoy purred.

Now Hermione snapped her head, facing his smirking face. "You're a sick bastard, you know that? And don't even think about me having sex with you, because it's never gonna happen!" She tried to slip out of his grasp, but he was too heavy. He was still clutching onto her arms, and his slithering hand was making an attempt to go under her shirt. (Authors Note: Meaning, it NEVER went under her pajama top, but tried to. Just wanted to make sure that was clear to all of you.) The only part of her body that she could move was her head. What she did next was so childish, and so juvenile, that she was proud of the reaction it had on Malfoy.

She gathered up all the saliva in her mouth, and hurled it at Malfoy's sneering face. It splashed with a beautiful "plop" in his left eye.

Malfoy's signature smirk was replaced with a gasp and then a look of utter disgust. "What the"-Hermione didn't hear the rest because she had wrestled out of Malfoy's grip when he raised his hands to aid his injured eye, and dashed into her bedroom. She would brush her teeth in the morning.

That night Hermione had a hard time falling asleep. In the middle of the night, after countless hours of restlessness and insomnia, she crept into the bathroom and studied herself in the immense mirror. Her wavy, bushy hair was tousled and her face was pale. Her eyes had faint plum circles under them, giving her a dramatic look, but not hideous. Standing out against her light skin was a red mark, undoubtedly a hickey. She tried to think of ways to conceal the treacherous mark, but she couldn't find a fool-proof solution.

I could put some make-up on it. Wait, what am I thinking!? I don't wear make-up, let alone own any. And if I asked someone to lend me some, they would see it. All the girl friends I have would bombard me with questions, and wring the truth out of me. Also Harry and Ron would suspect something, if I just bounced into class tomorrow with make-up painted on my face. Also, imagine how embarrassing it would be if it rained tomorrow. Not only would they see that I was wearing make-up, but they would know that I was hiding something from them. So then there would be questions about the why I was masking the hickey, and then an inquiry about the hickey itself. WHY IS LIFE SO CONFUSING!?

Scarves… it's early September; it's still boiling outside. How am I going to get by with a scarf wrapped around my neck? Turtlenecks…

Hermione, you're brilliant!

I know I am, but why?

Isn't it obvious!? I just have to wear a turtleneck, and tell Harry and Ron. That way, they'll no, and no one else will. But there's a strong chance that they'll try to slaughter the ferret…

So? He deserves no better.

True. And for the last time, please stop having conversations with yourself inside your head. People will talk.

That night Hermione fell into an uneasy sleep. As she was tossing in her crimson sheets thoughts kept storming into her head, leaving her with no peace until the early sunrise, when she finally dozed off.

(Authors Note: The thoughts were basically about the hickey, Harry and Ron's reaction, and Draco's reaction to the loogey.)

The next morning Hermione woke up with ten minutes to get ready. Cursing her ill luck, she jumped into the shower. Even though people might assume that it would take ages to shampoo, condition and dry her mounds of hair, Hermione is actually quite quick when it comes to showering. She just shampoos her hair, rinses it out while scrubbing her body clean, and then applies the conditioner.

When she ran into the Great Hall to grab a muffin, her turtleneck was damp from her sopping hair leaking water onto the fabric. Ron and Harry looked amused at her entrance.

"Um, guys, can I talk to you in the library?" Hermione asked, panting from showering, drying off, getting dressed, and sprinting to the Great Hall in no more then seven minutes.

"Er, okay…" Harry glanced at Ron, who just shrugged with a might-as-well-since-we-have-nothing-better-to-do look.

They found a secluded spot between rows of books on Muggle Studies. Before she told them what happened, she made them promise not to interrupt, or do anything rash at the end.

"Last night Malfoy pinned me against the wall, and…" She glanced at their inquisitive faces. "And, he gave me this." When she said the word "this" she pulled down collar on her turtleneck revealing the crimson stain on her neck. For a few minutes nobody said anything; the boys were goggling at the mark, and Hermione was watching warily for their reactions.

Harry was the one who spoke first. "Is that a… hickey?" He asked incredulously. Hermione nodded miserably and explained what happened in the bathroom a mere twelve hours before.

Ron continued to gawk at Hermione. It felt as if somebody poured a barrel of gloom and despair over his head. Yesterday he felt eternal bliss, and now that blotch on Hermione's smooth neck brought him down into dejection and melancholy. He could feel the color drain out of his face as he gaped at the wine-red smudge, which was staring straight back at him, laughing at his suffering soul.

Malfoy kissed Hermione. Malfoy left his putrid mark on Hermione's neck. I'm going to kill that little… He began to think of some very offensive words that described Malfoy's actions perfectly.

Ron finally found his voice. "Did you like the kiss Hermione?" He croaked wretchedly.

Hermione looked genuinely shocked at Ron's question; at the question itself and the glum tone of Ron's voice when he asked it. His eyes were full of hurt and despair. "Of course not! And I turned my head completely away from his mouth before he attacked me, so he only got my neck. Believe me Ron, I tried to break away from the monster," Hermione insisted. She was appalled at the thought of enjoying anything involving Draco.

Ron's pastel face visibly relaxed as she said that. Hermione couldn't help notice at how charming his sprinkle of freckles made him look. Instead of making him look gawky and nerdy, they gave him a distinguished appearance. Even his lengthy nose made him look shy, awkward and handsome.

Ron felt Hermione's auburn eyes watching him and knew that his face was probably a replica of a tomato. Then realization about why they were there in the first place crashed down on him.

"I'm going to slaughter the smutty pig. I swear, when he least expects it, I'll be there and," Ron made a slitting-his-throat motion, and then pretended to hang his head.

Harry just rolled his eyes and turned to Hermione. "Well, what are we going do Hermione? I know you told us not do anything irrational and daft, but I don't think I can just let this one by. And I think we all know Ron can't handle watching Malfoy get away with this."

Hermione knew this was true, but she felt as though she was letting Malfoy win. I mean, this is exactly why Malfoy did this to me in the first place; to get a rise out of Harry and Ron. Ugh, I hate that schmuck! When she explained this to Harry and Ron, they just ignored it.

"Who cares? When he's dead, it won't matter if he got what he wanted," Ron declared. A fire that neither Harry nor Hermione had seen before ignited in his hazel eyes. Hermione just shook her head in amusement at their ignorance.

"Ron, it's fine, really. I have a plan. But, I don't want to talk about it now," Hermione said when she saw their expectant faces. "You'll find out soon enough," she said, a secretive gleam shining in her eyes.

Author's Note: Argh, sorry this chapter was so short. The next chapter will be mostly about Hermione's revenge and then Draco's revenge on Hermione's revenge, and more Ginny and Harry moments. (Wooo) Please forgive the pathetically pathetic shortness of this chapter. The other two were about six pages, but this was five (sobs) I'm sorry. Well, the actual story is five pages long, but the author's notes make it six, but whatever. By the way, I was reading some reviews for other people's stories, and they were saying things like "It's too Americanized," so, if mine's too Americanized please forgive me, because I'm in America, and I don't know how to British it up, so give me advice on how to make it less American, instead of just pointing out the obvious that it's "Americanized". Thanksh.

Oh, and the new Harry Potter movie is a mutilation of the book. Go see it so you can complain about it later like I did. (I mean, seriously, THE DEMENTORS DO NOT FLY AROUND!!!)

The next chapter might take awhile because I'm going to be busy this week.

Remember, read, review, and read it again!