Author's Note: Don't forget, if you want an email when I update, leave your address and I'll be sure to add you! Now that the formalities are out of the way, I just wanted to beg you guys to please not kill me after you read this chapter because I… well… you'll see…

Coauthor's Note: stupid grin I've been promoted! Boo ya Grandma! Sorry to all the readers for this taking so long! It's partially my fault, I wasn't a very good muse. This is a really good chapter though and I think you will all enjoy it. And don't forget to review, because I'm running out of room to hide the bodies!

Pairing: Draco/Hermione

Rating: PG-13

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

Summery: 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?

Shadows of Light



Chapter Ten

"Let me down!" Angry fists pounded Draco's toned back in a fruitless effort to cause him pain. He smirked slowly, ceasing his long stride abruptly. Hermione felt herself being effortlessly dropped; her feet skimming the marble floor. She attempted to push away from the strong confines of his arms, but his grip around her was unyielding.

He looked deeply into her eyes pinpointing her weakness. "I want it understood, that it is not only my neck you are risking by screaming like that."

Hermione looked into his eyes solemnly. "Please don't do this," she whispered. Her heart pound painfully against her rib cage; she was certain Draco could hear it.

She raised herself on her tiptoes to graze her lips against his.

Draco tried to ignore the waves of traitorous pleasure that rippled down his spine, but Hermione seemed to have a hold over his common sense. He had to remember who he was, had to remember that what was between the two of them was nothing more than an untimely, unfortunate attraction at most and that as soon as she was under the spell, all of this nonsense would be put to a stop.

Yet, his firm hands cradled her smaller frame closer to his own heated one. Yet his lips opened to hers. Yet his heart cried out that this was so much more than a simple attraction, so much more than the nothing he was trying to turn it into.

Hermione savored the taste of his lips and the delicious way her body responded to his; for it was probably the last time she would feel him this close to her again. A wave of sorrow engulfed her for she realized that nothing she could say to Draco would convince him of what was real; it was something he would have to learn on his own.

She choked back an unexpected sob. Finally, her chance to break free presented itself when Draco loosened his grip on her slender waist to trek over her small feminine figure.

Deliberately, she disentangled her hands in his now disheveled hair and placed her small hands firmly on his shoulders. She then pushed with all her might against Draco's masculine structure. But, he was too quick for her, though; as soon as she broke away, his hands clamped around her waist and she found her petite frame being crushed once again against his own sturdy one.

"I never denied that you were clever," he whispered. His full lips, still wet from the previous passion, grazed her tingling earlobe, "but you didn't really expect me to give you up that easily, did you?"

Hermione could almost feel his self-satisfied smirk against her tender jaw, and when he spoke again, his hot breath fanned her sensitive skin. "You'll have to do better than that."

Hermione felt panic rise within her. Thinking quickly, she brought her foot up slowly and inconspicuously, so as not to alert him to her movements, and then all in one swift motion, brought it slamming down upon Draco's perfectly shined boot… hard. He let out an uncharacteristically high-pitched yelp of pain.

Hermione took the opportunity and pushed against him. This time, she felt the welcoming sweep of cool air greet her. Draco made a furious swipe at her in a futile attempt to regain control of the situation, but she was already sprinting in the only open direction, towards the oak doors and wrenching them open.

Moonlight illuminated the marble floor of the torch-lit entrance hall from a silverish-gray to a magnificent opulent white. Draco darted after Hermione, ignoring the dull throb in his big toe, the heavy door swinging noiselessly shut behind him.

He tore after her elucidated form at break-neck speed. She was headed for glowing yellow light in the distance; Hagrid's hut. Draco put on a burst of speed, refusing to let his mind linger on what the consequences would be if she reached that great oaf's dilapidated shack and foiled his plan.

Hermione chanced a frenzied look behind her. Draco was drawing level with her. He was extending his arms for her. With a gasp of horror, she felt his strong hand grip her wrist. Immediately, he stopped running and Hermione nearly fell as an effect of the abrupt halt.

Everything happened in a hazy blur after that. Draco's hand clamped over Hermione's mouth. Her muffled screams did not disturb Hagrid, happily ignorant of the scene taking place just outside his hut. He then twisted her arm behind her back and led her reluctant form farther away from the groundskeeper's house, away from the castle, away from any chance of escape.

Hermione tried to hold back, but Draco pressed his lean body against hers and forced her to move on. He pushed her towards the lake and its saturated banks, until Hagrid's cabin was a mere dot on the vast horizon of untouchable freedom. Hermione stumbled to the ground when Draco released his hold on her.

She pulled herself up to a sitting position and watched in a terrified trance as Draco pulled out the cork-stopped vial from the pocket of his robe. He carefully avoided looking at her as he removed two wands from the lined confines of his robe. He put one back, Hermione recognized it as her own.

She watched transfixed as Draco muttered a soft incantation that she could not hear and pointed his wand at his wrist where a bright silver band glowed in the iridescent moonlight.

His silver eyes found hers. A wave of sorrow passed through his grim stare, but disappeared as quickly as it had come, to be replaced with his usual stolid gaze. Hermione's attention was drawn to her own wrist, which was also radiant in the eerie light of the moon. Draco moved towards her slowly unstopping the vial as he went.

A part of Hermione screamed for her to run, to escape, before it was too late. The florescent blue liquid was reflected in Draco's quietly turbulent eyes. He was close now. He was pulling her to her feet. The bottle was at her lips. Another surge of rebellion raced through her, but it was quickly squashed when he tipped the effulgent liquid into her open mouth.

She gagged and spluttered, refusing to let the ice cold potion down her throat. Draco tipped the vial more persistently. Hermione could feel it crawling down her throat like some fluid parasite. She swallowed helplessly as the draught entered her system. The effects were instantaneous.

Her vision blurred. Hermione could see Draco's wide silver eyes, his expressionless face. He placed a hand on her shoulder to steady her. She had not even been aware that she was stumbling. She could not feel her feet. She could not feel her hands which were, unbeknownst to her, now grasping her wand. She had not been aware that Draco had even given it back to her. Hermione was trapped within her own mind; helpless to do nothing but watch.

Draco's hand was under her elbow steering her back towards the castle. She moved mechanically. His voice was in her head, but his lips were not moving.

"You are Hermione Granger. You like to study. You think homework is fun. You are in Gryffindor house. You hate Slytherins. Your best friends are Potter and Weasley. You have no sense of humor."

"I am Hermione Granger," she recited obediently. "I like to study. I think homework is fun. I am in Gryffindor house. I hate Slytherins. My best friends are Potter and Weasley. I have no sense of humor."

The shadow of a smirk formed on Draco's face. No one would know the difference. The castle loomed reproachfully over them as he led her up the steps. He reached out his hand to grasp the handle of the heavy oak doors, but they were already swinging open. Draco and Hermione collided with two hidden figures. They tumbled down the stone steps. Hermione lay on the ground, her vacant eyes open and staring emotionlessly.

Then she sat up, an odd sort of half grin on her face, but looking in her eyes, one would not find amusement, only emptiness. Draco brushed himself off and glared around for whatever he had crashed into. He saw nothing at first. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wand once more. Harry Potter and Ron Weasley appeared suddenly, a silvery shadow falling unnoticed to the floor behind them.

"Hermione!"

Harry faced Draco, wand poised while Ron rushed over to his friend.

"Hermione are you okay?" he demanded in a squeaky voice.

"I am Hermione Granger," she narrated.

The flame-haired Weasley helped Hermione to her feet and stared at her perplexedly. "I said are you alright?" he repeated.

"Homework is fun."

"Hermione," the freckle-faced boy inquired, "What's going on?"

"I hate Slytherins," she recited, looking straight ahead but not seeing what was before her, the worried and confused face of a friend.

"This isn't funny, Hermione."

"I have no sense of humor."

"What's wrong with you?" Weasley was getting worried now. His brow was furrowed in confusion. Draco backed away slowly. Taking one careful step into the dimly lit entrance hall, he could have sworn he heard the distant pounding of footsteps, but never got a chance to inquire as the meddling scar-faced good-for-nothing Potter had jumped in front of him once again.

"Oh no, Malfoy," he said through clenched teeth. "You're not going anywhere."

"I am in Gryffindor House." the curly-haired girl stated to no one in particular.

"Hermione!" Ron demanded, "What the hell is going on?" He shook her by her forearms and watched distractedly as her head lolled dizzily on her shoulders, her mouth still plastered in that wide empty un-Hermione grin.

Hermione's mouth didn't move at first, but in her head she was shouting as loud as she could. 'Malfoy's keeping me as a prisoner in my own mind! That's what the hell is going on!' On the outside, her words were quite different, but they seemed to have the same effect...

"My best friends are Potter and Weasley."

"Potter and Weasley? You never call us that" realization flashed across his hazel eyes,"...but he does." Ron turned his gaze swiftly to the aloof blonde. Draco's usually perfect hair was tousled, and he had the look of prey cornered by a hungry predator.

Harry and Ron stepped closer to Draco, backing him up against one of the still-open oak doors, their wands raised.

Potter was on him then, his fists clenching the cuff of Draco's shirt. Harry's green eyes blazed menacingly. "What did you do to Hermione?" he demanded.

Draco looked unflinchingly into his foe's eyes a sneer curling his full mouth. "Tell me!" Harry shouted slamming Malfoy against the hard oak doors.

Weasley pointed his wand at Draco's face. "What have you done to Hermione!" he screamed his blotchy face so close that Draco could smell his sweat. But Draco remained silent provoking the sniveling weasel more than any snide remark could have.

"TELL ME WHAT YOU DID TO HER MALFOY OR I SWEAR I WILL CURSE YOUR SORRY ARSE STRAIGHT TO HELL WHERE YOU BELONG!"

Perhaps it was Draco's thoughts personified in Ron Weasley's squeaky voice that provoked a snide response from the remote blonde.

"Oh sure you will Weasley. You couldn't work a wand if it was tied to your--"

"PETRIFICUS TOTALIS!" the raging Weasley shouted.

Draco's body stiffened and clattered against the immense door. "What's wrong with her?" the fire-haired mongrel shouted spraying spit over Draco's frozen smirking face.

"Ron," Harry whispered in a shaky voice.

"He's not moving until he confesses!" Weasley shrieked.

"Is that so, Mr. Weasley?" a sinister voice asked coldly.

Ron's face fell. There in the open threshold directly behind a very still Harry stood none other than Snape in all of his greasy glory, an expression of pure malice painted on his sallow face.

----

I know, I know, I'm bad about the cliffie's but it keeps you on your toes… besides this isn't a really big one. This took forever and a day to post! I'm sorry guys! School is a bitch and then some. But I wanted to make this chapter a good one to make up for its er… lateness. Remember, be kind, review!

Peace, now all the chapters leading up to this match in happiness. First day back at school has made me a bit… abnormal. Review homies!

I also noticed that I am on the Favorites list of 42 people, omg, I didn't know you liked me! Happy dance!