Author's Note: A big warm thanks to all of you who reviewed! Grins and takes the cookies offered to her by Lady Demon I'm thrilled that so many people are enjoying my story, but don't forget to review. If you haven't read the Order of the Phoenix, GO READ IT! LoL! It was a really good book. Currently, I am changing the chapters to better suit the story and tie in with OotP. Chapters 1-8 are revised and as soon as this one is posted it will be revised too! Woot!

Pairings: Draco and Hermione

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Draco Malfoy had always hated that Harry Potter and his two best friends Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, and the hatred had magnified since they had landed his once highly-esteemed father in the wizard prison Azkaban. That was why nobody would put it past him to feign injury in order to torture Hermione Granger into doing his work for him in the name of vengeance on Potter. But what happens when an emotion much stronger than revenge begins to take hold? Could it be that fate has other plans?

Disclaimer: If I said I owned this, would you believe me? If so, then Joanne Kathleen Rowling is just a 16-year-old American girl who likes Eminem and writes fanfictions based on my work. Idiot.

Shadows of Light

Chapter 9

The common room was empty, as it usually was whenever he was around. He preferred it this way, in the absence of people; he could contemplate his plan properly. But this night, Draco's thoughts were elsewhere.

Hermione Granger: bookish, conservative, Mudblood, Granger was in love with him. If he could convince her that he fancied her as well… she would be only too easy to bend to his will. His revenge on Potter would be complete. Somehow, that thought gave Draco a solemn shiver of regret.

He glanced down at his wrist. A silver band showed brightly, the flickering of the common room fire dancing on its reflective surface. He had been wearing it since he had acquired the Bands of Bovioria. One resided on his wrist and the other on his victim's. It was a link that connected them. It was this link that enabled him to enter Hermione's mind, and command her body. But it was merely a link; he did not have complete control.

Perhaps, he should proceed with the formalities sooner than he had anticipated. There was a full moon tonight. Once stage two was complete, he could deliver her to Lord Voldemort any time he pleased, as long as they were off Hogwarts grounds. He would be free of her. He would be released from the spell that held him captive to her, for it was vital that he escape from the Mudblood. He had to rescue himself before something horrible happened… like really falling in love with her. Was it already too late?

Draco stared moodily into the dwindling fire. The common room had become very drafty, but he didn't seem to notice the chill bumps prickling the pale skin on his arms. He could only think of Hermione. He had watched her pile more toothpaste on her wet toothbrush and raise it to her mouth. Draco wanted to feel that mouth against his own again. He wanted to hold her. He wanted to feel her breasts crushed against his strong chest…

Draco shook his head furiously in an attempt to extricate the thoughts piercing his resolve. He did not care for Hermione, no Granger. He was a Malfoy. He did things properly, and falling for the Mudblood was not the proper way to go about the plan.

Yet her face still danced behind his closed eyelids. He couldn't forget her wide astonished eyes, when he gave in to the temptation to kiss her anger away. He couldn't forget the way her lips responded to his. The way her hot body flattened against his own, setting off his liquid pulses. He couldn't forget the look of pain on her delicate face, or the feeling of guilt that still lingered in his heart. All he wanted was to forget, forget that he had known her, that he had hurt her in a way no one could understand…

Draco stood up and ambled to the lavatory. He stared deeply into his reflection. His reflection stared back, cool, aloof, and arrogant. It was hard to tell that this image of perfection in front of him was facing the weakness of desiring a Mudblood, the Mudblood that he was going to use to ruin Potter and his sidekick the Weasel.

Draco twiddled the elegant handle on the chrome sink and a jet of ice cold water spilled into the refined basin below. He slid his hand under the sheet of water and splashed some onto his face. His cheeks stung under the icy droplets. However he welcomed the tingling discomfort, it alone, gave him the feeling that he was still the aristocratic confident person that stared back at him from the large Slytherin mirror on the wall, when all of his other senses begged to differ…

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Draco had spoken nothing to Hermione all day. She had never met his mercury stare, however many glances she stole in secret at the lunch table; something she would fervently deny aloud. He puzzled her. She wished he would talk to her, yell at her, insult her, give her some sort of inclination that he acknowledged her existence instead of this cool indifference. That must be why he was doing it, he knew it was torturing her. Her feelings were an open book to him because of the band.

Hermione had a good idea of what it did. Draco had gained admittance to her mind. He also had the power to close her throat, constricting her air passage whenever she mentioned his injury. She was sure there were other things he wanted kept secret, however it puzzled her why he went to such drastic measures to silence her. She knew there must be more to it than the obvious. An object like this was clearly full of dark magic, and a book on such would surely only be found in the restricted section of the library. Hermione's heart sank.

Sudden loud booming voices alerted Hermione to the fact that dinner had just ended. She was sitting at one of the large wooden tables in the Gryffindor common room with several books propped open in front of her. Harry and Ron had insisted that she was not herself and pleaded that she go to supper instead of catching up on her homework, but Hermione was adamant.

"Hermione, we brought you some food," Harry said when he and Ron arrived at her table. "Yeah, we figured you might be hungry since you skived off dinner and all." Ron dropped a wet cloth full of steamy food in front of her. Hermione looked up from her book and smiled at them in gratitude. However, neither returned the grin; on the contrary, they both looked quite serious.

"I think we should talk, Mione," Harry said pulling up a chair and seating himself at the table. Ron followed suit.

Hermione had expected this since she had forcibly persisted in not going to dinner then slammed the portrait door shut in their anxious faces.

"Alright," she sighed resignedly.

"Malfoy's done something to you, we know he has. What's going on Hermione?" Ron demanded the second she gave compliance.

Hermione had expected this as well. She took a deep breath readying herself to explain that yes, Malfoy had done something to her. He was imitating an aneurysm in his arm, forcing her to return to the library every night at seven to keep up his masquerade for some unknown purpose, rescued her from something that she would normally not be in danger of in the first place, not to mention their heated, unexpected encounter last night, and the equally confusing and abrupt Bovioria Draco had attached to her wrist that enabled him to control her.

But as she opened her mouth to explain this, her throat stopped up. The sudden absence of necessary oxygen halted her explanation. The only sound that was able to force its way through her tight throat was a soft inaudible groan.

I warned you not to say anything, Granger. Malfoy's cold voice drawled in her ear. Dots danced in front of Hermione's eyes, her vision was blurry. Her need for oxygen grew more urgent. Malfoy please, she thought desperately. He chuckled melodiously. His voice was so close; she could almost feel him leaning over her, his hot breath in her tingling ear…

"Hermione!!" "Are you alright?" Harry's and Ron's faces came into sharp focus as her vision cleared. They had both left their chairs and were standing over hers.

"Nothing, I'm fine," she lied implausibly.

Harry and Ron looked unconvinced. "Alright, I have just been having a few bad headaches from all this overwork and helping Malfoy with his writing everyday. It's nothing to worry about. I'm okay, it's gone now."

Harry and Ron still looked quite unconvinced. "Hermione," Harry began pulling his chair up much closer to her than before and sitting down. "It looked like you were gasping for air, headaches don't do that. Ron and I think that there is more to this then you are letting on. We think Malfoy's done something, ever since he saved you from the squid, what's going on?" Ron nodded fervently from his stance behind Harry.

"Look, Malfoy is… " Her throat closed momentarily, as if he was daring her to say more so that he could seal her air passage for good…"is a prat," Hermione finished lamely.

"We're not leaving until you tell us what's wrong," Ron said stubbornly. He sat down in the second wooden chair and crossed his arms obstinately. Harry seemed to be trying to catch Hermione's eye, but Hermione turned away before he could fasten a glare. Too many people were trying to get in her head!

"Then you're just going to have to wait here forever, aren't you?" a voice that was not her own spat out angrily, she was then propelled by some invisible force to grab her books shove them into her bag and stomp up to the girl's dormitory leaving behind her two stunned best friends.

----

The library was especially quiet that night. Draco was late, as usual, but Hermione had been hoping he would be. She was plotting of a way to sneak into the library after Madam Pince had closed it up and read up on the Bovioria in the restricted section.

She could nick Harry's invisibility cloak from the boy's dormitories and sneak in. But how would she be able to steal it and replace it without Harry's noticing and what if one of the boy's was awoke and saw her? She would have to wait until she was sure everyone would be asleep and by that time it might be too late.

There was always the possibility of sneaking in when Madam Pince's back was turned, but she could never be sure when the stern librarian might look in to make sure no one had done just what Hermione was planning. Not to mention, the prospect of sneaking in and out unnoticed was bleak.

Perhaps she could exit the library at 8, as usual, and then wait behind a stone pillar for Madam Pince to depart, and then sneak back in. As long as she wasn't caught on her return journey, it seemed foolproof. That was if Malfoy didn't get in the way. Perhaps he wouldn't bother to show up until it was too late, like last time. She only hoped he wouldn't interfere too much. The thought of the night before sent a shiver down her spine. It seemed unlikely that he didn't know what she was planning. He knew everything she was thinking.

Time passed slowly like the grains of sand gradually slipping from one prism of an hourglass to the other. Hermione cast an aggravated glance at her watch. It was only 7:30. Well, she could leave and wander around for a half an hour, there was really no point in staying. Malfoy was probably going to stand her up again. She packed her books in her bag and swung it over her shoulder.

"Going somewhere, Granger?"

Hermione spun around. There, leaning on the bookshelf directly behind her chair, was Draco Malfoy an expression of pure evil etched on his aristocratic face.

A thrill of unexpected delight raced up Hermione's spine. She wasn't happy to see him, just surprised, yes surprised… not happy at all. She forced a scowl on her face in hopes of ignoring her body's immediate response to Draco.

"I asked you a question Granger. Where do you think you're going?"

"Well, it isn't like you need me here!" she hissed finally finding her voice.

Draco's expression cooled immediately. He was no longer looking smug. His jaw was set in a furious line and his eyes narrowed dangerously…

She had startled him. "Of course I need you here, Granger, you're supposed to be writing for me… did you forget?" His voice was very cold and suave, Hermione was instantly reminded of Lucius Malfoy who was known for his debonair method of skirting trouble, except the last time when he was caught with a group of Death eaters and sent to Azkaban.

"You know just as well as I do that…" She couldn't breathe, her heart was pounding painfully in her chest, she was gasping for air, the room was spinning, blackness was closing in around her…

Then, everything stopped. It took Hermione a few moments to realize where she was. In the confusion, she had managed to fall into Draco Malfoy's arms. She took a couple shaky breaths before Malfoy spoke. "I know you want me, Granger, but please have some decency, this is a public place!"

Hermione pushed him away. "I wouldn't touch you if you were the last man on earth," she whispered vehemently.

Draco stepped in towards her and bent down slightly so that his hot breath fanned her ear, "that's not what you said last night."

"I wasn't myself last night."

"No you weren't," he agreed. "The girl I was with last night was exciting and beautiful, not this run-of-the-mill goody-goody, bookworm in front of me."

Hermione felt this surge of passionate anger. As he was in uniform, she grabbed his silver and green striped tie and pulled it so that his face was mere inches from hers.

She said nothing as she peered into his astonished eyes. She needed nothing to say. There was something about him that she couldn't resist, something in the way he goaded her that made her fall for the bait. Why did he have this effect on her?

She raised her lips to his, kissing him softly. He opened his mouth and the kiss deepened. She had never felt this before. His arms held her close, tightened around her.

She broke away from him, gazing into his eyes. "Why do we hate each other so much?"

Draco held her to him for a moment, then released her. "Because, we have to."

He was gone then, leaving her feeling cold and quite alone. It was a battle, she realized, between righteous and self-righteous, and she would be damned if he won it.

----

Hermione dropped her bag off in the Gryffindor common room, thankfully unnoticed by Harry and Ron as they had not yet returned from Quidditch practice. By the time she had reached the library it was 8:05 and Madame Pince was just closing the doors. Hermione ducked behind a large statue of Pegasus, an immense majestic horse with outstretched wings. Madame Pince glanced up and down the corridor and then headed in the opposite direction in which Hermione was hidden.

Hermione waited until the clicking of Pince's high heel shoes faded into the distance before emerging from her hiding spot. The halls were as quiet as a tomb when she opened the heavy door to the library. It made a soft thump when it closed behind her. The library was covered in a cloak of darkness Hermione had never seen before. The bookcases loomed high above her looking tall and mysterious. The room held a sense of foreboding that was not present during the waking hours.

Hermione opened the door to the Restricted Section and walked in. A rustling sound immediately came from the shelves as the door creaked shut behind her. It was almost as if the books were whispering to the new presence. Hermione ran her fingers along the spines of the books. A few shivered at her touch.

Most of the books had no titles inscribed on their spines, or the words were scratched out, some titles were unreadable because of deep purple stains that reminded Hermione a little too much of blood. She shivered and drew her robes closer around her body.

The section on the Dark Arts took up more than half of the restricted section, from Potions that kept one in insufferable agony if they told an untruth, to spells and enchantments used for unthinkable pranks, to powerful evil objects used for controlling one's mind, to wandless magic with destructive effects… Wait! There it was. Devices of Devastation: An In-Depth Guide to Powerful Dark Objects and Their Sources.

Hermione resisted the urge to grab the book from the shelf and start flipping through the pages for fear that it might start screaming loudly as a similar book had done to Harry five years ago. She eased the book off of the shelf. Figuring she might as well be comfortable while she researched, she opened the heavy door and reentered the library.

Hermione chose a seat near a wide window where moonlight from the full moon outside illuminated the handsome black cover of the book. She flipped to the back of the book and ran a finger down the index. "Bovioria, Bovioria," she muttered as she searched. "Bands of Bovioria? Page 297." That had to be it; nowhere else on the page in the B section was the word Bovioria.

Two linked silver bands decorated the top of the page. Hermione recognized them as identical to the one that circled her own wrist. Underneath the sparkling picture was the caption:

Bands of Bovioria:

Known as the most powerful and difficult to control magical objects in the world are the linked Bands of Bovioria. Their unique magic is only successful if the two bands are united between two mortals. One who possesses the bands must perform a ceremony under the light of the full moon and proclaim himself master of the bands. According to the ancient legend of King Gorgetrek, the master must use an enchantment known as the Ivatrionius Incantation (pg.299) and drink from the Draught of Ditoritius (pg. 301)

When the master of the bands attaches the remaining Band of Bovioria on his victim's wrist, they are linked together by the ancient magic of the Bovioria. The master is able to enter the victim's mind at will and control the victim's body. The two can coexist in this state over a period of one month before the magic wears off and the victim is freed.

If the master wishes to gain complete control, he must take the victim in seclusion underneath the full moon. There, the victim must drink from the Draught of Ditoritius. Once this task has been performed, the victim becomes trapped in his own mind and has no control over his actions. In this state the victim may be released in one of two ways. The first and most common way is death. The second is much less customary. The victim must drink from the Draught of Ditoritius upon the will of the master under the full moon. In this way, the spell would be reversed and the band would fall to the ground leaving the victim free and unharmed.

There is only one way to release a victim from the power of Bovioria once the spell is upon them.

The next crucial sentence was pulled out of her grasp suddenly and forcibly. Hermione started. It had to be Filch or Madame Pince; someone had found her in the library after closing with a book from the restricted section! She was going to be in so much trouble. "I'm sorry I was just… "

"It's past the time for reading."

"Malfoy?"

"I knew you would be here," Draco whispered. "So perfectly predictable."

"You know that isn't true, Draco Malfoy, and if you think for one second that I'm going to let you turn me into some mindless minion, you have another thing coming!"

He arched a quizzical eyebrow. "Do I?"

Hermione's eyes brimmed with tears. Why had she felt anything for Draco Malfoy? Why had she expected him to love her? She could feel her heart breaking. She had tried not to give in to him. She had tried not to trust him. But, mostly, she had tried not to fall in love with him.

"Now, are you going to be a good little Mudblood and bow to the inevitable, or am I going to have to use force?" he drawled stepping closer and closer to the trembling girl, twiddling his wand between his slender fingers.

Hermione felt her fury returning full force. "I will never bow to you, Malfoy," she said through gritted teeth pointing her wand at his face.

"We'll see about that! Expelliarmus!" The wand flew out of her hand and Draco caught it with ease and stuffed it into his pocket, where Hermione got a brief glance of the cork-stopped vial containing bright glowing blue liquid. "After all, I never said you had to bow to me… yet."

Before Hermione could move, or scream, or kick, or attempt to grab her wand from the confines of Malfoy's pocket, his strong hands were upon her tiny waist and his hot body was pressed against hers. Her breath caught.

"You belong to me, Hermione," he whispered in her hair taking in the intoxicating fragrance.

"No," came her weak reply. "You can't do this."

"I don't have a choice." Draco's voice was cold, detached, almost as if a greater force than his own freewill was determining his actions.

Hermione felt the sudden sensation of movement as he swept her feet from under her and hoisted her over his shoulder. He began his journey towards the Hogwarts grounds. It was a strange moment, even though Draco Malfoy was quite possibly carrying her to her doom, Hermione couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth at being in his arms once more…

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The satisfaction of a job well done! This chapter was inspired by the song "Always" by Saliva! Please send me reviews, I would love your input!

Okay, I thought it would helpful and convenient to add this: Pronunciation Key!

Bovioria- bow-vwar-ee-uh

Escensio- es-sense-ee-oh

Ditoritius- deet-or-ee-tious

Ivatrionius- eve-ah-tree-oh-knee-us

Gorgetrek- goar-gu-treck

I have the worst pronunciation in the world, until I read the fourth book I pronounced Hermione's name Hermenee. So I figured I would put a key in there for all of you who (like me) pronounced Hermione's name wrong until she sounded it out for Krum in Book 4! O and one more thing… REVIEW!!!