Hermione stirred in her sleep, mumbling softly. There were loud angry noises from outside her bedroom. He was so noisy, even the silence spell couldn't keep it out. She ran her fingers through her hair, brushing the stray ends away. There was only one other person who could be inside the Head dorm and that person was Malfoy. It perplexed and annoyed her a great deal that he couldn't just be sensible and let her rest. She hadn't done anything today to irk him. They had barely exchanged twenty words, beginning with, "What are you doing here, Mudblood?" and ending with "You amuse me Granger."
Hermione hid her head under the pillows, trying to go back to sleep, hoping that that prat would just shut up. Her headache was coming back with full force and his raving antics were not helping. She let out a cry of frustration and stuck her feet out from under the covers.
There was a severe look of annoyance on her face as she rubbed her eyes and struggled into her robe. The wizard clock beside her bed glowed blue for a moment. She groaned as she pulled open the door.
"For crying out loud Malfoy, it's twelve at night! What the hell do you want?!" Hermione shouted angrily at him.
He stopped banging on the door and stared at her for a second. There was a strange look in his gray eyes that she didn't like at all. It seemed like a thick coat of ice was coated over its gray color. It was hard and frozen.
She shuddered involuntarily, his gaze invoking chills down her spine. Hermione peered at him curiously, pulling her robe around her waist tighter instinctively. She felt a dire need to protect herself from him. Her mind scrambled furiously as to where her wand was and realizing it was over at the other bedside table, she backed into her room slightly. The darkness shrouded her partly, and she felt safer.
"What is it?" she questioned, steadying her voice.
He looked at her with glazed eyes, before a fire burned sharply in them and he rushed at her, pushing her to the ground.
He pinned her to the ground, shutting the door with a flick of his wand. Hermione screamed and struggled, kicking against him. She was tall, but he was even taller and much stronger. Malfoy clapped his hand to her mouth, silencing her screams. The muffled sounds escaping from her were desperate, and she was frightened beyond her wits. She always knew Malfoy was an insufferable prat and a bloody playboy, but what the hell was he trying to do!
She shrieked and streams of hot tears cascaded down her face as he tore off her robe, eyeing her hungrily. The ravenous fiery spirit in his eyes reminded her of a wolf and she wanted nothing more than to get away from him and curse and hex him into smithereens. By now he had removed his hand from her mouth and had started kissing her forcefully on her neck and lips.
"Malfoy…Malfoy…Stop it! Please! Stop!" Hermione sobbed uncontrollably, as his thin lips pressed hard against her mouth. Her heart twisted painfully, like someone was trying to wrench it out but it wouldn't budge. She was trapped.
In her mind it was a blank, only registering the savage grips on her body each time his hands came into contact with her skin. His mouth traveled all over her body, his hands groping her everywhere. She hated what he was doing to her, she hated the way she was being pushed and squeezed about.
"Stop it!" she screamed helplessly, torrents of tears pouring down her face. She felt her pants being pulled off and the ripping sound of her T-shirt being torn apart. Hermione kicked at him wildly, wishing desperately that someone might hear and save her.
"No use Granger! You're all mine tonight!" Malfoy snarled sinisterly, proceeding to ravage her mouth with his.
She turned her head away, sobbing her heart out. She was almost bare to him now. Why was he doing this? It was wrong, so wrong!
Hermione let out a petrified cry as she felt his fingers undoing her bra clasp.
"Don't do this. Don't do this!" she pleaded vainly through her tears. This couldn't be happening to her. No! It couldn't! It only happened to other people, people in the news! Not her! Not on the first day of school!
She trembled furiously as Malfoy pulled away her bra, eyeing her body with lustful eyes. Looking at his expression as he eyed her, she felt ashamed, unclean, contaminated. She was dirty.
"Don't do this Malfoy!" she begged, fighting to loosen his hold on her, jostling under his arms.
He sneered at her evilly, taunting her, jerking her face to his by grabbing a fistful of hair. Hermione screamed in pain.
"It's no use Granger. You are not getting away." He laughed madly and kicked at her legs and stomach. Her heart plummeted straight down with such intensity that she gasped weakly. The words cut in her mind, etched in permanent memory. They rang out in her head, translating into, " No one is going to save you. You are at his mercy, whether you like it or not."
Hermione gave a shrill cry that seemed to echo from the very depths of her despair. A cry of resignation. Defeat. Darkness. Shame.
The next thing Hermione knew, Malfoy's face was swarming in blurry patches in front of her before she sank into black oblivion, as a white-knuckled fist came impacted on her face.
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It was eight in the morning, an hour past the student's wake up time. The sun was up; illuminating dark nooks and crannies, casting warm yellow light onto the soft grass, seeping through every crevice possible.
Most of the students were in the Great Hall, eating breakfast and chattering excitedly with their friends. There was plenty of "catching up" to do, and spreading about the news of how Lavender and Seamus had hooked up over the summer, along with Parvati and Jason Liverlocke from Ravenclaw. In addition to the other bits of news, like Dean Thomas's plan to organize a soccer team in Hogwarts and how Neville had mistakenly taken bobotuber pus instead of his cough potion and arrived in St. Mungos in a pretty sight. Poor Neville sat forlornly at the breakfast table, limply swirling his milk around with his spoon, his round face going another deeper shade of pink.
Harry and Ron were seated at one end of the Gryffindor table, occasionally looking towards the door for a sign of Hermione. It was rather unusual for her to come down late, especially on the second day of school, the first day of classes. She would be extremely chirpy and cheery, comparing timetables with anyone who would listen. Hermione would bug everyone being a "bright happy sunflower in the midst of wilting plants" as Ron put it, but it felt strange not to hear her happy voice over the usual spread of cereal, milk, eggs and sausages.
"Ron," Harry asked worriedly, "You don't suppose that Hermione, that something happened to her?"
"Whastchalt shoesayd?" came Ron, his reply quite indecipherable, considering that much of the space in his mouth was chock full with bacon and toast. An unsightly bit of bacon rind flew forth from his mouth as Ron spewed in a most undignified manner.
Harry scowled, looking exasperated and waited impatiently for Ron to finish, tapping his fingers irritably on the wooden surface.
Ron, taking an unusual amount of time to swallow, washed his food down with a big swig from his goblet before turning his attention to Harry, who was now looking severely annoyed.
"I said Ron, that you don't think something happened to Hermione, do you? It isn't like her to be down so late. Not when there are schedules to compare you know."
Ron looked perplexed for a moment, before his features relaxed into a calm, assured expression.
"Nah. Have you forgotten that Hermione's sick? Probably sleeping in, that lucky thing. We can visit her after lunch. Should be okay with Mcgonagall I suppose." He answered.
A look of remembrance crossed Harry's face and he grinned, settling back to a full plate of bacon, sausages and eggs. They ate in silence, with Ron reading the Daily Prophet as Pig dropped it on his lap, and Harry staring blankly into space, thinking about Qudditch strategies. Being Qudditch captain most definitely put Qudditch in a new light, finally understanding why Oliver Wood had stressed himself to no end for it.
Harry smiled, old memories of the Gryffindor Qudditch team playing happily in his mind. It hadn't been the same since Fred, George, Angelina, Alicia, Katie and Oliver graduated from Hogwarts. He didn't miss them though, for he saw them all quite frequently during the holidays. With them here, the Qudditch team was at its best, united and superbly good.
As it was to be expected, Fred and Angelina, together with Katie and Oliver had gotten married. George and Alicia had recently gotten engaged. He grinned widely, recalling how different Oliver was as a father when they had visited Katie in St. Mungos. He was fussing about, carrying his twin girls about protectively, muttering how words couldn't describe his relief when Katie had given birth to girls, not boys, for she had intended on naming them Fred and George respectively.
Ron's voice disrupted his thoughts.
"Harry! Look, its Ferret boy. I wonder how he and Hermione got along yesterday." Ron whispered across the table, dislike clearly written on his face.
He laughed and replied. "Yeah, me too. They really have a knack for driving each other up the wall. Well, at least Draco does." He added, wrinkling his nose slightly as he remembered that Ferret boy was like stone. Hard to crack, with no emotions expressed. It was a pity really, that so far the number of times in their six years at Hogwarts, they had only managed to infuriate Malfoy a grand number of five times. While on his side, the number of times he had gotten on their backs was probably more than the number of his fingers and toes combined.
"I'm going to ask Hermione how things went last night. Merlin, it must have been a painful night for her, with him there." Ron muttered softly to himself, his words soon fading out of hearing range as he immersed himself in the Daily Prophet again.
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Thanks for your reviews and hoped you liked this chapter. Basically I wrote this story for some fun, so thanks very much.