Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter and its glorious plot, I'd be the richest female on this blasted planet.

Chapter 10: Pity and silently speaking.

"Forget me not tonight...sweet dreams." Was all that echoed through Hermione's already mystified mind all night long. It was true. She hadn't forgotten about Malfoy and the haunting images.

Pictures are worth a thousand words and Hermione had seen enough to understand the life that Draco lived as a Malfoy. The image starring Lucius was the one that troubled her the most, a torn and beaten Draco at the mercy of his "father".

It was a gruesome sight indeed, blood pouring out of Draco's wounds staining his beautiful pallid skin. His face, that handsome face, showed no fear, no anger, nor grief.

It was lifeless....emotionless...just like always, but they key to ones soul is their eyes. Those mystifying blue gray eyes held back tears of pain. Instead, Hermione could see the burning hatred and the anguish swimming in those pools of blue-gray.

Each time the whip hit Draco, he would lift his head up high with utmost dignity and flash a trade mark smirk, angering Lucius. He was the reason why Draco was the way he was now, cold, heartless, impassive....torn, ripped away from the glorious sunlight that brings much happiness.

Hermione always knew that Lucius was inconsiderate, but never would she have imagined that the older Malfoy would torture his own son. The way Draco talked about him in the earlier years made it seem as though he was the perfect father.

Then it dawned on Hermione. The earlier years are long gone. She had watched Draco transform from a spiteful, taunting, Gryffindor hating Slytherin to an emotionless, cold hearted, hateful young man.

He walked the halls as though he didn't have a care in the world but all the while he was carrying a heavy burden of lies and secrets, some of which could change the way people looked at him and disgrace the Malfoy name.

Even though Malfoy was a malevolent young man, no one deserved that type of treatment. Hermione concluded that Lucius had punished Draco in that fashion more than once. God only knows who else received this type of treatment.

Suddenly Hermione remembered the woman in the other image, dressed in expensive night wear, crying as her son slept soundly in her arms. Long silvery blonde hair and warm blue eyes all contributed to her gorgeousness.

She looked so unhappy, but yet content. The crying woman held onto her son like he was the only thing she had left in this world, her only source of sanity, her only love.

If these images did depict a story from Malfoy's life then this woman must have been his mother, no doubts about that. The Malfoy family isn't as perfect as they claim to be. Nobody is.

Money can't buy you happiness, but power can. Malfoy always walked around the school talking about other people's problem, but little did they all know that Draco had some serious problems of his own. Involuntarily, Hermione began to worry.

However, she had to admire Draco. He did a great job hiding years of pain and torment. Surely enough Draco was near a nervous breakdown but he stood tall and inscrutable, always finding new ways to vent his anger, sometimes lashing it out on his three favorite Gryffindors.

Over the years Draco's love for his father must have transformed into fiery hate. Hermione wanted to know more, much more. Although she realized it would be a laborious task, she decided to at least try to get the information she so badly wanted.

On her way to the Dungeons, Hermione bumped into the people she had been longing to see, Harry and Ron.

"Hermione!" Ron said a bit too excitedly showing how much he missed her.

"Harry, Ron......please forgive me. I never meant to......" Hermione started, pleading like a helpless child, but she was cut off by Harry.

"It's alright." Harry stated in a consoling and forgiving voice.

The trio exchanged hugs of affection and made their way to what they thought was going to be another boring lesson in History of Magic.

Hermione realized how she felt without the two young men, lonely, a bit vulnerable, and independent.

"Nobody likes being lonely." She whispered. Even though no one responded, Hermione knew the boys fully understood how hard it was to be by her self at such a challenging time.

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Upon entering the classroom each Gryffindor scanned the dimly lit room for their rivals, the Slytherins, fortunately they were not present at the moment. Harry, Hermione, and Ron took their seats in the back of the classroom.

The boys sat in their seats and Hermione positioned herself on the table. Making up for lost time the three friends began to chat away, taking advantage of the limited time they had to talk before Hermione would take her seat in the front.

As Hermione caught up on the latest news, the noise level outside increased to a level in which it became unbearable to listen to. As Head Girl she figured it would be her duty to put an end to it.

"Excuse me. Looks like duty calls" she said proudly, excusing herself form Harry and Ron's presence.

Just as she was about to open the door, the noise died down and the classroom door swung open sending Hermione to the floor in less than a second.

"Watch it!" She heard Ron yell, then footsteps racing toward her.

"Hermione, you all right?" Harry asked with concern.

Rubbing her forehead and groaning, Hermione slowly opened her eyes only to see a pair of expensive Italian leather shoes. They were the type that was meant for the rich and well respected, the type only a Malfoy could afford.

Gently, Harry and Ron grabbed both her arms and lifted Hermione off the dusty floor. They held onto her as she regained her footing. She tried to fix herself and while doing so her collar on her school shirt slipped revealing something meant to stay hidden.

"Malfoy." Ron growled exactly like a dog.

"Hey Hermione, what's that on your neck" Harry exclaimed completely out of context.

Panicking a bit, Hermione looked at Malfoy, the one responsible for all this madness. She searched his face looking for any sign of sympathy or any intent on getting her out of this sticky mess.

Her eyes begged with him, but yet there was still that smirk on his angelic face. She hated needing Malfoy at times, times she'd never expect. She looked into his icy gray eyes and a wild fire raged through her body.

"Nothing." she said hoping to brush Harry off, knowing it was useless trying. He may have let it go now but later on he would bombard her with questions.

"Goddamn it Malfoy. You're smirking like you're the one responsible for this mark." Ron bellowed loud enough to leave an echo. Draco replied,. "Tsk, tsk how ironic that Weasle would say such a thing. "

At that moment Hermione's blood froze and her body went rigid. She could still remember his soft lips on her baby smooth skin. She remembered the way he caressed her neck lightly like it was fragile, then the vicious way he bit into her like a ravenous animal tearing apart a piece of meat just given to it. She remembered the electric shocks it sent up her spine and left her wanting more and more of that touch, that forbidden touch.

Slowly Malfoy averted his eyes in Ron's direction, then back to Hermione. Starring her dead in the eye he slyly replied "Guilty until proven innocent, Weasley."

That was enough to give both Hermione and Ron a heart attack. All three wizards watched him saunter towards his seat, leaving behind a raging redhead, a very suspicious Harry, and a scared and heated Hermione.

Fuming Hermione walked over to her seat and threw her quills and books on the desk, hoping it would annoy the shit out of Malfoy. Instead one of her quills flew of the desk and right into Malfoy's lap.

Draco casually looked up from his book, down into his lap and then at Hermione cocking his eyebrows. A smirk began to form on his lips, which only meant that his intentions for the moment were quite mischievous.

Just as Hermione predicted, Draco grabbed the quill and placed it on the table. Both students looked down at the quill and then locked gazes with each other. Momentarily .they both forgot where they were and why.

Draco's smirk disappeared as he intently studied the female Gryffindor. Every thing about her enticed him. Everything from her playful cinnamon curls that cascaded down her back to her warm, chocolate eyes, to her rosy lips, to her curvaceous body, her evident innocence, and her firey temper.

As if reading her mind Draco stretched out his hand to grab the quill the same time as Hermione. As their fingers intertwined with each other heat rushed through their bodies, brining back memories of that forbidden touch they both wanted so badly.

Flesh upon with flesh, body and body coming together as one, passionate heat mixing with hateful lust creating unexplainable ecstasy......................the need......the desire......addiction......that was the forbidden touch.

Not only has it taken its toll on Hermione, it has affected Draco in some way, not profoundly but enough to create a bond between him and his enticer.

Professor Binns' lifeless body floated into the classroom and his airy voice interrupted whatever Hermione and Draco was sharing. Draco simply let go and Hermione took her seat.

"Good morning class." Professor Binns began

"Good afternoon Professor Binns" the entire class of seventh years replied.

"Today we are going to discuss the Goblin Rebellion," Binns said excitedly.

There were a number of hisses, growls, and groans before the transparent Professor completed his sentence.

"However, a very disturbing aspect of It." someone said in an icy tone while narrowing his eyes.

"C'mon now, lets be realistic. What part of the Rebellion was not sick and disturbing that we haven't learned about already?" Hissed a certain voice.

"Good point Mr. Malfoy. I've taught all you need to know about the Rebellion. However I never went into detail about the manner in which the muggles were persecuted."

"You mean torture?" Hermione spoke next.

"Correct Miss Granger." Binns said. He flew over to his desk and prepared to lecture the class.

"The Goblin Rebellion.... Ah, yes a time in which Muggle persecution was very popular. It reached an all time high. Yes class, it was dark times for the Magical community." Binns stated. "Poor muggles. When they were caught they would either be beaten or killed in the most ghastly manner." He said in a sympathetic voice.

"Well does anyone know how they were treated?" he questioned the silent class.

Of course Hermione's hand was the only hand that shot up.

"Ah yes Miss. Granger explain to the class."

"Well, they used the regular means of torture, like whips and medieval torture weapons. Muggles were chained to the walls of a dungeon and beaten to a pulp and then left there to either die or rot in misery. Sometimes the Unforgivables were used against them. Other times they were set on fire with a simple spell or torn apart limp by limb," Hermione managed to catch the class' attention at the same time rising from her seat.

"Some Muggles went insane while others clung onto their last string of sanity. The Goblin rebellion was what you would call genocide, a massive amount of killings that shook the muggle and magical community, and left many families in pain and despair," Hermione spoke in a harsh manner never pausing to catch her breath. There was so much to explain. Her voice began to crack as if thinking about it made her want to cry, but she wasn't thinking about the Muggles. She was thinking about Malfoy.

After a momentary pause she continued her voice a little softer. "Innocent people die every day, but no one.....NO ONE deserves to die that way." Hermione finished her last words giving herself and the class goose bumps.

Everyone was too shocked by her explanation and accurateness to even comment. Not even Binns could get him self together and speak. In the corner she could see Lavender grabbing Ron tightly, Pavarti slightly shaking out of fear, and Pansy...pale and terrified like the rest of the class.

Every person in that room seemed moved except for Malfoy. As she concluded her last sentence Hermione looked Malfoy dead in the eyes. He wore an impassive expression on his face, but sent Hermione an ice cold glare.

The coldest glare that anybody could give a person, a glare which made you think that you did wrong when you know you did right, a glare which turned your warm thick blood into a slushy red liquid that struggled to pass through your veins and arteries, a glare that could make your heart stop beating.

Malfoy was the only person she knew of who was capable of such things.



Suddenly, the bell rang. "Well....class over" Binns said but nobody moved. It was like everyone was frozen in time.

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"I'm so hungry" whined Ron.

"Yes Ron, that's why we're headed to the Great Hall, to eat dinner." Harry replied in a slow monotonous voice, as if he were talking to a two year old.

"Yes Ronnikiens," Hermione teased in a playful voice, making Ron shudder at his old nickname.

"Once we get to the Great Hall we'll feed you and make you feel all better." She finished chuckling loudly. Harry and Ron joined in.

"Ah excuse me. No noise in the corridor please." said a firm voice.

The three turned around to meet the stern but friendly face of Professor McGonagall. She stood there with a stack of book levitating behind her. Once she saw the three innocent faces of Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Her features softened and her eyes lit up.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Ms. Granger."

"Good evening Professor" the three responded to the salutation simultaneously.

"Headed to dinner, I suppose. Well, me too. But I have an errand to run before I go. Would you boys mind if I asked for a favor? She asked

"Not at all." Harry said.

"Take these books up to Madame Pince, manually. It's best that you get the exercise."

Harry walked over to the floating books with a smug expression on his face, and Ron followed his example. Each boy grabbed a pile of books and made their way to the library.

"Hermione, we'll meet you in the Great Hall." Ron's voice boomed from behind the tall stack of books. She nodded in agreement and watched the boy's disappear into the darkness of the Hogwarts corridor.

As soon as they were out of sight McGonagall's light mood changed. She fumbled in her pocket and pulled out a letter. Her hands trembled as she handed the letter over to Hermione.

"It's from him isn't it?" Hermione asked in a soft voice.

"I'm afraid so," McGonagall replied pausing to see Hermione's reaction.

Hermione took a deep breath. She felt like crying but she knew she had to be strong. She couldn't live a life of fear. Hermione promised herself that she would forget that night of terror and try to live a normal life, but it was difficult to forget the bad things when they continued to cross your path.

This letter, like the others, was probably another threat. It was nothing new. Hermione had gotten used to the threatening words. Her father was very far away. He couldn't hurt her.

Although she knew this was true she could help at wake up at night thinking she heard his voice or saw him standing over her trying to kidnap her from the only place she felt safe, making her his forever.

"Don't worry yourself. He can't hurt as long as you're here." McGonagall cooed. Hermione had heard that a million times. She had lost faith in the safety of Hogwarts. Anything is possible.

"I know....I know." Hermione whispered.

"Well let's head off to dinner. Try not to..."

"Professor, I was wondering if I can have a word with Granger." said an edgy voice. From behind McGonagall, Hermione saw Malfoy.

"Well Mr. Malfoy I don't think this is such a good time for..." Again the Professor was interrupted. This time by Hermione.

"No professor McGonagall. It's alright, really. I'll be fine."

Professor McGonagall looked apprehensive, but she still gave in leaving Hermione and Draco in the corridor alone.

Hermione eyed Draco suspiciously as he walked toward her. His hasty footsteps echoed in the silent hall.

"Let's go." He growled.

"Why can't we talk here?"

"Privacy reasons." Draco said walking away from Hermione.

"No. You want to talk, let's talk here." She fired back.

Draco was in no mood to deal with her nonsense. To make things easier he picked her up and carried her to a nearby classroom, regardless of her kicks and screams.

He did this not only to make things go faster, but he also needed to feel her, her and that wonderous touch. He placed Hermione in a chair and stood by the door incase she tried to escape.

"What the fuck was that?" he hissed taking her by surprise.

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't act stupid. You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"History of magic, is that what we have to talk about?"

"Listen Granger, I don't know what you saw in the Pensieve, but what you know stays with you. Understand!"

"I didn't tell any one. I got carried away and expressed how I really felt about the torture situation."

Draco inhaled deeply and ran his hand through his hair. To Hermione he looked like a different man. She wasn't looking at the laid back, malicious Draco she had known for several years. It was a Draco she had never seen. He looked stressed, torn in between two worlds, unsatisfied and confused. He pace the room back and forth as if looking for the right words to express what he wanted to say next.

"Draco...." Hermione whispered softly.

Draco stopped dead in his tracks. Being called by his first name by his longtime enemy was something new. Although he didn't admit it he loved the way his name fell softly from her lips like a sweet melody.

"There was something more between us is class today.....like a bond. Although you won't admit it I know you felt the same way I did." She continued to whisper.

Draco's back was still turned on her, but he listened to every truthful word.

"We have a way of talking to each other. You know it and I know it," Hermione explained. "We communicate with our emotions. We talk with out words, sound, or body language. It's like we're...." she trailed off looking for the right word to complete her thought.

"Silently speaking," whispered a husky voice. Draco turned around and left the room never looking back.

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Draco thought deeply as he headed to the Great Hall. Hermione has showed some sign of sympathy for him as well as compassion. There was something between the two.

He wasn't naive and silly like most of the other boys in his year. Then again he wasn't a small minded boy any more. There was definitely a bond between himself and Hermione that went beyond being Head Girl and Head Boy and he wasn't going to ignore it.

He was tired of ignoring things. He ignored his father's cruel behavior for years. Now was time to face the facts. Not only did he feel bondage between him and Hemione, but he also felt that she understood him. Draco, for once, respected this. As he never really had respect for anyone or anything except his mother, Narcissa.

Even though they were mortal enemies he knew his secret was safe, but if Draco was going to reveal to Hermione what he has been hiding then she had to know everything. Right then and there Draco made his decision. Trust, that's all that mattered.

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"Get out Hermione, its way past your bedtime." Ron chimed as he playfully dragged Hermione out the common room.

It was close to midnight and Hermione had not left the common room yet. She was having a good time with her friends that she missed terribly every second they were gone.

"Alright I'm going." Hermione replied in the middle of a hearty laugh.

She gathered her belongings and bid Harry and Ron a goodnight and sweet dreams. As she walked out the common room, Harry threw a pillow at her. Hermione was tempted to hurl it right back at him, but resisted the urge. It was too late to start another play fight.

Even at seventeen they let out the inner child in them and goofed off once in a while. It felt good to be in the company of people who had a positive out look on everything. All the positive energy made you feel like you could spread your wings and soar - soar into a broad, bright, postive world.

Wearily she walked back to her sleeping chambers. It had been a long day and Hermione was sure a goodnight's rest would be helpful.

Once in her bedroom chambers, she slipped out of her Hogwarts uniform and jumped into the shower. After a relaxing bubble bath, Hermione searched her draws for her most appealing nightgown owned. She slipped into it feeling good about herself.

Next, a hand slid up her arm and onto her shoulder, pulling up her spaghetti strap, which slipped off her shoulder, at the same time. She knew that touch too well. It was a whole new different feeling that she loved.

Hermione turned around and came face to face with Malfoy who was wearing a plain black t-shirt and green silk pajama pants.

"Can I trust you?" he asked. The way he spoke surprised Hermione.

His usually drawling voice was replaced by a passionate whisper that asked a question pleading for her to respond yes.

"Yes, why, what's....." Hermione began to ask but was cut off when Draco placed a cool finger on her lips to hush her.

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes, I guess so."

Hermione expected another question or remark but there was none. All he did was smile. Draco grabbed her wrist and pulled her behind him into his room.

TBC.

A/N: Thank you all for reading. I urge you to review. It makes me feel special. I've been receiving a lot of compliments lately. I just want to thank you all for the compliments. Continue reading. And my beta reader, you get much love.