Twenty-Six: That's How We'll Win

"They took our blood beforehand so it's likely blood magic that ties the two people together." Theodore mumbled around the quill in his mouth, peering over his glasses at the book in his lap.

"Obviously," Hermione's eyes rolled so hard that it was nearly audible. Theodore smirked at her.

"There she is."

She glared at him and gestured towards the book again.

"Keep reading. There's a solution somewhere. He wouldn't have made it permanent. He wants control."

"Perhaps Draco knows." Elodie's wind-chime voice called from the other side of the library. Theodore jerked around as if he had forgotten she was there. Hermione watched curiously as his gaze roved over her, fingers lightly trailing up and over her bulging stomach.

"Ellie, darling," Theodore sighed. "If Draco knew he would have told us." Elodie shrugged and Theodore stretched an arm out to her while returning his attention to the book. The girl stood from the couch and walked towards him, curling up on his lap and against his chest, like a cat. Theodore's arm instinctively curled around her, tugging her against him until he could press his lips to the top of her head.

Hermione missed that sort of intimacy. Even just from Harry - and even if now the idea of physical contact like that made her nauseous. In a way, she envied Elodie. She seemed so adept at compartmentalising and separating the Death Eater from Theodore, like she knew the difference and could love one but fear the other.

Theodore grimaced when he caught her staring and pinned her with some pleading look that made her keep her questions to herself.

Both of them returned their attention to their studying until the door opened and Ginny creeped inside with a careful look over her shoulder. Hermione lurched to her feet and launched herself at her friend, always as though it was the last time they'd be able to say hello to one another.

Hermione beamed at the belly between them, bending to press a kiss to the swell of it.

"How's my nephew?" she whispered. Ginny smirked and ran a hand over the expanse of her stomach.

"Behaving himself - just like his father." she grinned.

"Oh, I'm so sorry." Hermione laughed a bit. The redhead's expression sobered and Hermione followed the look over her shoulder to where Theo held Elodie and his book. The envious expression on Ginny's face broke her heart a bit. Enough that Hermione felt the need to put an end to it. "Where is he?"

"Out. The ferret came and retrieved him a little while ago."

Hermione nodded.

"Elodie's been struggling a bit with some of the symptoms of her condition. Do you think you could show her some of your remedies?"

Elodie's head popped up hopefully and Ginny smiled warmly at the sixteen year old before nodding. Theo however, stiffened and tightened his arms around the girl only to release her moments after she whispered something to him. He allowed her to disentangle herself from him and when the two girls disappeared he sagged deep into his chair.

"So," Hermione prompted, sitting on the armrest of the couch across from him. Malfoy hadn't acknowledged or addressed it but after the incident with Lucius, a handful of thicker robes had appeared in her armoire. She was incredibly grateful for them, even more so each time she tucked the robe around herself.

"I don't know." Theo groaned pitifully, slapping a hand over his face. "I fucked up."

"Yes, well." Hermione sighed. "We haven't exactly had a chance to talk. How did that even happen?"

"She's so young." he murmured, staring blankly at the ceiling. "I didn't want her used for all of this just because she hadn't gotten a chance to-" he sighed.

"You are young too." Hermione interrupted. Theodore smirked.

"We haven't been young in quite some time, Granger."

"Do you love her?"

"Yes." he answered without hesitation. "Not the way you're thinking though." he sighed. "She's so innocent. So untouched by all of this. She trusts and loves implicitly. I care about her. She's beautiful. But I'm not in love with her. I just- wanted to protect someone for once and I failed miserably. I didn't want her to be used for parts and now she'll either be killed for it or I'll bring my offspring into this nightmare."

As Hermione watched, his head turned up toward the library ceiling, two tears tracked their ways down his cheeks and Hermione felt so incredibly sad for him. When she reached though, pulling his hand into hers, he flinched so hard Hermione thought he would break apart.

"I don't- If I'm not the one initiating, I can't…" he exhaled hard, staring at their joined hands.

"Me either. Anymore. Maybe we can practise." she said quietly. He stared intently at their twined fingers, breathing hard until he found new words to speak into the laboured silence.

"Distract me. Us. Both of us." he muttered. Hermione nodded, and reached for the book he had discarded without letting go of his hand.

"Have you found anything?"

He shook his head, swallowing thickly and Hermione felt his palm against hers like hot lead, all too reminiscent of Lucius's hands burning holes into her skin.

"Blood curses." she said, clearing her throat. He nodded. "They're in the manors."

"Yes."

"As barriers and such to protect the property." Another nod. "How do you remove them?"

"Spilling blood on the grounds once again and reversing the incantation. Almost like…" he was staring at their hands still. "Like you're casting with blood instead of a wand."

"Okay," Hermione said gently. "How do blood links work?"

"By combining the blood of one with that of another."

"Yes." Hermione nodded. "Voldem-" Theo's hiss cut her off. "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named used Harry's blood to strengthen himself in Fourth Year." she tore her own gaze away from the physical contact and looked down at the book.

"Blood slaves," he said after a few moments of silence. Hermione looked at him, eyebrow arched. "It's very old magic. Extremely old and extremely forbidden. Though I assume if anyone were going to use it it would be him."

"How did that work?"

"I don't remember exactly. It predates verbal spells. As I understand it, the Parkinson family was the last to abide by the ban." Hermione felt a miniscule amount of the tension seep out of his hand. "The main library may have some literature on it, though I doubt it. After the first war, the ministry sort of did a massive requisition." Hermione nodded thoughtfully.

"There's something to it besides simply taking another's blood into your body." she turned to face him, a bit of enthusiasm in her eyes in the presence of a puzzle.

"Yes. It has to be intentional. He used our blood in the fire that heated the brand."

"So, we just apply the same logic to the bodies as is used for pureblood land."

"Spill blood into it again and reverse the incantation." Theo agreed, turning to face her head on.

"We don't know the incantation."

"But if it was blood slave magic there may not have even been one." Hermione's eyes widened.

"Which would mean that theoretically we can get the brands off." Theo nodded. "And luckily we have a pair to experiment with." she grinned. Theo only then remembered that they were holding hands and slowly, he peeled them apart, rubbing his palm.

"Bloody hell," he said, just as the door opened again and Elodie rushed back to Theo's side. Ginny joined them shortly after, taking the chair that Hermione offered rather quickly.

"So what do we have?" the ginger asked. "Anything?"

"Maybe." Hermione said, shuffling around in her pile of books. "Blaise still sees Pansy rather frequently, doesn't he?" she asked. Theo scoffed.

"You could say that."

Hermione blinked dumbly.

"Well?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I'd like to talk to her."

Theo gave another louder laugh.

"There is not a chance in hell of that, Granger."

"Why not?" she huffed, hugging her books closer.

"Blaise has her pretty well buried in the depths of Zabini Manor. Intentionally."

"You said yourself that their family-"

"Her parents are dead. I highly doubt that Pansy has any knowledge of it at all. And besides, Blaise won't bring her here and you can't leave the country-"

"Without Malfoy."

"And you don't think the Dark Lord will question Draco taking you on an unsanctioned trip to Italy?"

"So Malfoy can make it sanctioned." Theo snorted.

"I can go." Ginny raised her hand. Hermione's eyes landed on her friend so quickly she was certain she'd given herself whiplash.

"Absolutely not."

"Why not?"

"For starters? You're pregnant."

"You're on the Dark Lord's most wanted list." Theo added.

"You may not have a blood bond to Lucius but you still have a trace on you." Hermione said.

"Pansy may very well smite you on the spot."

"If the wards don't take you out first."

"If you survive international apparition."

"If we can sneak you out past Lucius."

"Alright!" Ginny snapped. "So I'll sit here, useless as ever."

"You're not useless." Hermione frowned, reaching over to rest a hand on Ginny's arm.

"The fuck I'm not."

"It doesn't matter who is useless and who is not." a drawling voice drifted towards them from the door. Hermione's spine stiffened and Theo's head jerked upright. "Pansy and Blaise will be arriving this evening. We need to talk." Malfoy's eyes were trained directly on Hermione when he said that, enough so that she stood and followed him out the door without question, arms wrapped around herself.

"You've been avoiding this conversation." That was the only segue Malfoy offered and in turn, Hermione felt the blood drain from her face. His expression was hard and his jaw so tight she was shocked his teeth didn't shatter. "Your discomfort is irrelevant. My father is going before the Dark Lord today. I need to know the extent of his…attack." he looked as though the words tasted poisonous on his tongue. Hermione shook her head. She didn't want to talk about it. She couldn't talk about it. She refused. It felt like some nightmare, something that hadn't actually happened and because of that there was a part of her that wished Theo had left the scars, at least then she'd be able to rationalise between reality and her dreams. But she couldn't and Malfoy had very Malfoy-esque features. His hair was blond like his fathers.

It wasn't as bad as it could've been… as bad as what she was certain her friends experienced.

She felt a freezing finger under her chin, lifting her face upward.

For some reason, the ice in his eyes prompted her to continue.

"I am still - usable." she tripped over the words, disdain twisting her mouth at the terminology and could have sworn she heard Malfoy exhale. She spun around on one bare foot then, desperate to end the conversation. Only, those same cold fingers wrapped tightly around her bicep and tugged her to a stop.

The momentum startled her and when she stumbled into the front of him, there was something different in his face - something different in him. She couldn't place it. She didn't know what it was. It was nothing tangible… maybe something in the way his magic hummed now, like it wanted to wrap around her, reach for her. There was a vivid ferality in his expression that added a new depth of danger to what was already there.

The occlusion, the wall, it was still there. But there was something else now too.

"So am I to understand that he did not touch you?"

She tried not to picture it. Tried to answer without thinking. Her mind was quick but his legilimency was quicker. The tidal wave of anger that overtook his features startled her. Enough so that had it not been for his hand on her arm she would have backed away.

He'd seen it. That much was obvious, though she felt him shaking slightly before he realised he was. He dropped her arm like it had burned him and Hermione reached for him without thinking, retreating with a frown when he stepped away, raising one hand to stop her.

She watched, with some amount of awe, as he reigned in the emotion, slowly and steadily, before tucking it behind concrete walls and facing her again, impassive once more.

"What did you and Theo find out?"

"Why are Blaise and Pansy coming?" she countered.

"This is not a negotiation," he said drily.

"I agree."

Malfoy sighed.

"I need to borrow Pansy's skills." he leaned back against the window sill, bracing his hands against it on either side of himself.

"What skills?"

"What did you and Theo find out?" he repeated. Hermione sighed.

"That I think we can remove them. We just have to experiment with a bit of blood magic." she huffed, crossing her arms.

"Just," he scoffed, reaching up to push his fringe back. "Fine."

"You better have a good fucking reason for this, Malfoy." Blaise stalked towards the blond, broadened his shoulders and got in Malfoy's face, anger radiating from every part of his expression. Malfoy looked perpetually bored for his part, leaning casually against a bookshelf with a cigarette between his lips, sleeves rolled to showcase his Mark while moonlight glinted off of silver irises. "-because I swear to Salazar-"

"Enough, my love." Pansy emerged from the Floo, perfectly pretty without a single hair or thread out of place. A carefully positioned hand on Blaise's shoulder caused him to deflate immediately, stepping aside so that Pansy could embrace Malfoy. "Hello, Darling." Malfoy's arm wound around her back.

"Hey, Pans." She stretched her neck, shorter than him by quite a bit even in her stilettos, and pressed her red lips to his cheek. Theo had seemed to shrink in on himself since their arrival. "Alright then?"

"Always," she winked and Hermione found herself envious of the witch's ability to carry herself as though she had the world wrapped around her finger. Blaise exhaled sharply through his nose and reached for Pansy, tugging her away from Malfoy with his arms wrapped around her waist.

"Talk." He snapped. Malfoy's eyes rolled and Pansy sighed.

"I find myself in need of your acting abilities."

Pansy grinned.

"Happy to help."

"I want them out." Blaise hissed through gritted teeth, looking first at Ginny, then Elodie and finally Hermione.

"If the Dark Lord decides to take a stroll through any of their minds, we will have far bigger things with which to concern ourselves. Sit down."

"And Pansy's involvement will not be one of those things." Blaise snapped, positioning himself between Pansy and Malfoy. Pansy's eyes rolled hard enough to hear.

"Stand down, mate." Theo sighed, coming up beside him. Blaise jerked away from him with a glare.

"You look awfully guilty, Signore Nott." Blaise hissed. Malfoy's gaze darkened and Pansy's eyes narrowed. Theo recoiled.

"Uncalled for, dear." Pansy's voice was anything but loving.

"Watch yourself." Malfoy's voice had taken on a deadly quiet quality.

"As absolutely ridiculous as this is…" Ginny scowled, pushing herself out of the chair in which she sat. "Can we get a move on before my master returns for the evening." Somehow she made the word sound like an insult on her tongue.

"You needn't be concerned about that." Malfoy said offhandedly, crushing out his cigarette. "You will be in my custody for the time being."

Hermione's eyes snapped to Malfoy, though he wasn't paying her any attention.

"As for you," He looked at Pansy and lowered his hands into his pockets. Blaise was fuming, though Pansy had managed to get him to back down. Theo however had caved in on himself, thumb pressed to his forehead to relieve the ache building there while Elodie curled herself around his bicep. "In recent months, Theo and I have refrained from attending the events the Dark Lord has put on. We attended the celebration in France but that is all. The Dark Lord has yet to grow suspicious but with recent developments we can no longer take that risk.

"What sort of developments?" Pansy hedged, arching one perfectly sculpted eyebrow. Malfoy dropped his chin to his chest and gave Theo a tired look. The man's thick swallow was audible and he withered under Pansy's gaze as she turned slowly to face him.

Theo nodded after a moment of hesitation and paced away from the group, running a hand through his curly hair. Hermione watched Elodie smile softly at Pansy as Malfoy opened his mouth to speak.

"Ms. Haywood is pregnant. We need to prevent the Dark Lord from discovering this for as long as possible. I would like for Pansy to attend tomorrow evening with Theo as Elodie."

"Absolutely the fuck not." Blaise roared. Malfoy paid him no attention. Ginny rolled her eyes and shuffled up to Hermione's side. Pansy shrugged one shoulder, gliding towards Elodie and coming to stop in front of her.

Elodie raised a hand to wave. Pansy mimicked her, adjusting her posture to match the girl's more closely.

"Hi," Elodie's small voice floated through the tense atmosphere.

"Hi," Pansy echoed, an airy quality entering her previously polished voice.

"Pansy!" Blaise shouted. "You've crossed a line, Malfoy. Do you know how hard I've worked to keep her out of all of this? Do you?"

"Can you do it?" Malfoy asked Pansy. She nodded.

"Easily."

"Will you do it?" Malfoy asked, face severe.

"Of course." Her eyes were sympathetic for merely a moment before they shifted away from Theo and onto Blaise. "Settle down, Darling."

"Settle down? For nearly a year I have kept you out of sight and out of mind. Now what? You want to walk right into the snake's pit?" he snarled. A dangerous smirk twisted Pansy's lips.

"I was getting rather homesick, anyway."

Pansy spent the better part of the night sitting across from Elodie, studying her mannerisms while Ginny, Theo and Hermione poured themselves into various books. Malfoy and Blaise sparred casually, Malfoy allowing Blaise to land a generous number of hits, seemingly well aware of the man's need to let out his frustration in some way.

Hermione was awed really by the ridiculousness of the sight. She found it entirely too bizarre that she was sitting in a library with a group of Slytherins, smack in the middle of another wizarding war. It wasn't until hours later that Pansy's clear voice rang throughout the room, breaking everyone out of their respective tasks.

"Now will be fine, Draco dear."

A flash of red light blinded the library's unsuspecting occupants. Elodie squeaked and when the light dissipated, there was Blaise sprawled across the marble floor.

"He's going to Avada the lot of you." Ginny smirked. Theo's glare snapped towards the redhead, deepening when her eyes took on a challenging quality that showcased her refusal to back down in the slightest.

"Let's get on with this, yes?" Pansy stood, sweeping her palms down the front of her dress.

Theo sighed and the lines in his face seemed to deepen. He stood, frozen for a moment, before pulling a vial from his trouser pocket and flicking the cap off with his thumb. He frowned at the bottle before thrusting it towards Pansy. The witch gave him a gentle smile, reaching out to lay one porcelain hand against his cheek. They had some sort of silent conversation, Theo's eyes growing pained while Pansy seemed to stare straight into his soul. His shoulders slumped after a second and Pansy smiled again, leaning to kiss his cheek and then pulling away like nothing had happened.

"Cheers," she smiled sweetly and tipped the contents into her mouth. Hermione's confusion lasted merely a moment before she realised what was happening.

Theo had gone pale, staring as Pansy transformed into his ward. He looked completely nauseous, especially when Elodie's voice came from Pansy a few moments later.

It was impressive really: watching the Slytherins fall in step like pieces of a clock… like they had done this many times. They could communicate almost wordlessly and they did so, until Malfoy sat in a wing back chair off to the side, still in Theo's field of vision. Pansy positioned herself rather carefully in front of him, on her knees on the tile, breasts hanging out of the limited clothing she'd changed into.

And Theo? Hermione watched in awe as Theo transformed into something unrecognisable. His face went cold, his eyes lifeless, his body stiff and then he raised his wand, drew a cruciatus curse in midair, and cast the wordless spell.

Pansy, as Elodie, contorted instantly. Horrific, piercing screams ricocheting off of every surface. Hermione's heart protested as Theo leaned into the curse, intensifying it. Ginny made no move, save for the barely noticeable twitching of her eye and the tightening of the tendons in the hands that rested against her belly.

Hermione wondered when she'd grown immune to all of this. She wanted to feel the need to run, to collapse. Theo looked as though he felt absolutely nothing as he tortured a childhood friend who appeared exactly like the mother of his child.

And Hermione hated herself for thinking that it was better Pansy than Elodie.

She felt cold. She felt sadness for the children in front of her, torturing each other because it was more humane than torturing a pregnant witch. She hated the choices they faced. She hated how calmly Malfoy was able to watch it happen. He'd loved Pansy once.

She didn't know how to feel in the face of all of it, but she did know that she felt so incredibly angry.

When Theo stopped, Pansy went limp.

There was a pause, a heavy silence, and then the echo of bone hitting tile as Theo's knees hit the floor. Hermione watched as Elodie made eye contact with Malfoy. The latter came to Theo's side, hand coming to rest on his shoulder. His body jerked, head tilting sideways to rest on the back of his friend's pale hand.

Elodie was helping Pansy up with a small smile as the older witch brushed away imaginary dirt. Theo muttered something inaudible to the stoic blond at his side and Hermione's brain pieced it all together before that of anyone else in the room.

It took place in slow motion almost. Malfoy woke Blaise up. He took in the scene around him, from the two Elodies, to Theo's face and the horror on Ginny's - and then his fist was smashing into Theo's jaw with the force of a train.

"Blaise." Pansy's shrill voice shrieked. Malfoy intercepted a second blow while Pansy placed her palms against her partner's heaving chest. Elodie was beside Theo, inspecting his bloodied mouth.

The commotion faded into white noise as Hermione studied the chaos.

"It was fake. Wasn't it?" her quiet voice cut through the arguing. Ginny's head whipped in her direction. "The curse. It was fake. You were making a memory for V-"

In that moment she could have sworn she saw the corner of Malfoy's mouth twitch. Blaise's shoulders fell and he took that moment to look Pansy, Elodie's body, over. Pansy was completely unharmed. She looked okay.

It was Theo who had suffered the most from the show and Hermione knew she was right.

Yet, she had been so, so wrong. About all of them. She saw what she wanted to see. She believed what they intended her to. She assumed the worst. When really, all she saw now were humans trying to find a way to be good while imprisoned in an evil world.

Twenty-Seven: It's Not What I'm In Love For

When Pansy, Blaise, Theo and Elodie finally left the library, Ginny retreated to her quarters to sleep. Hermione had pulled her book into her lap and curled her body into the reading chair she had claimed. Malfoy was rolling his sleeves up his forearms, one centimetre at a time while he leaned against the large wooden table behind him. She was staring. She knew she was. But her brain was having a hard time adjusting to the new light in which the Slytherins had painted themselves.

"What?" Malfoy snapped, movements hitching slightly on the cuff of his dress shirt.

"You didn't torture her. Pansy."

"No," Malfoy said drily.

"How long have you been doing that? Faking it?"

His eyebrow twitched in what Hermione had learned to be his brand of grimace.

"It's not always an option. Theo developed it. It's difficult to cast and even more difficult to make it look real. Pansy's acting skills are some of the few that are good enough." Hermione watched the muscles in his arms shift as he brought them back to brace against the edge of the table. "Theo is not quite as capable with compartmentalisation and as you saw, Blaise is not exactly a fan of Pansy's involvement. It's risky. And needs to be worth it."

"That's vital information. That could save lives, Malfoy." she murmured insistently. An exhausted laugh tumbled from Malfoy's lips.

"I don't see what's so funny." her voice pitched higher. "You're just- sitting on information that could save innocent people from unimaginable pain."

"I learned a long time ago that you cannot save everybody." That weight on his shoulders seemed to grow heavier - visibly so.

Hermione said nothing for a long time.

"You're not on his side. Are you." It wasn't a question but a statement. She knew the answer. His scoff was derisive and angry but she saw through it now; enough so that it pushed her from her seat and in his direction. He stiffened as she approached, growing so tense that it seemed he might shatter at any given moment. "You could help the Order. The Resistance? There's still a good number of us, free, fighting, working to end this, I'm sure of it."

"Are you?"

"Yes." she snapped. "I've heard enough bits and pieces to know that you continue to find new safehouses. That won't stop. We won't give up. With someone like you on the inside, we would have a chance, Malfoy. Let me get a message to the Weasley's. I could get them to offer immunity for your mother." she was pleading - shamelessly. The unyielding stone in his eyes shook, just barely.

It was like trying to see the soul in a statue but she knew it was there. His lips pressed together in a thin line, as though that would prevent him from responding to the witch in front of him. "You're lonely." she whispered, peering up at him through big brown eyes. "I am too." The weight in his stare bore down on her. "I'm compromised beyond repair, Malfoy." she slid her gaze between each grey eye, studying the way the silver ether swirled inside of them.

His resolve was wavering. The weakening was visible in the tightness of his jaw and the flex in his shoulders. He was physically restraining himself. Hermione had no such intentions. "You said it yourself. If he decides to use legilimency on Elodie, Ginny or me, we will have enough to worry about. So what's the point in being alone, Malfoy?" she whispered. She lifted her hands, steeled herself and lay them softly against his chest. There was no give to his skin, only hard unyielding muscle and a steadily beating heart. How he managed that was beyond her. The control he had over himself was incredibly impressive. "You're not on the Dark Lord's side. You aren't evil."

One hand flew off of the table, grabbing her wrist in a death grip. His signet ring dug into her skin and his Dark Mark aligned with hers.

"You know nothing."

"And you know that is not true." her eyes narrowed in challenge. She wondered if he could feel what she did. The living thing pulsing in what little space still separated them. It made the air thick and suffocating. Her heart hammered loud enough that it almost drowned out her intentions.

"I am on no one's side.'' His growl was low and dangerous and would have been barely audible if he hadn't leaned down, close enough that she could feel his breath against her cheek. "I am on my own side. I care for no one but myself. I have and will continue to climb the ranks in whatever way I can to ensure my own survival as I always have."

She almost smiled. The lie was so utterly blatant.

"You've already broken the rules. Gone against his orders. What's one more?" Her small hands slid up the expanse of his chest until she, barely, reached his broad shoulders. His eyes flashed with some sort of predatory emotion. "Be lonely with me." her voice was barely an exhale.

It was instantaneous, like a release from a body bind curse. She'd hardly noticed him move before his massive hands were wrapping around the back of her neck and hauling her against him as though she weighed nothing.

For a heartbeat, there was only the press of Malfoy's cold body against hers, the stiffness in every one of his slightly shaking muscles. Hermione rose up on her toes, slanting her mouth against his. The world stalled for a mere moment before everything in him surged towards him to kiss her back. The force of it knocked her into the table and he damn near growled at the interruption, sliding his hands down her body, never once breaking the physical contact. His hands curved around her thighs until he could lift her onto the table's edge. The moment that happened, the moment they were no longer preoccupied with trying to bridge the height gap, it destroyed whatever remained of his threadbare restraint. She opened her mouth and with that his tongue swept in like darkness in the night.

He tasted like he smelled; smoke, whiskey and spearmint. Heady intoxication, clouding her thoughts, systematically stripping her of her most powerful weapon. She moaned, forgetting herself and unable to help it.

It seemed that sound was his undoing. The fingers she'd just realised had migrated to her hips, tightened, holding her in place as he inclined his head further, sliding his tongue against hers. Her hands moved on their own, frustrated with the black fabric of his dress shirt between them. His heart still beat evenly, steady beneath the palm that mapped the plains of his body desperately. All of this, in spite of the trembling of his hands.

Each thought of destruction, end times and damnation emptied from her mind. She forgot, with little protest, that this was not supposed to be like this. It was meant to be a tool, a means to an end but the desperate way in which his touch-starved soul reached for her own forced that thought into the background.

She dove headfirst into the distraction, allowed it to drown her. As she plummeted towards the depths, sinking beneath the surface, she watched her reasoning spiral away and out of reach. She watched as everything about him took on a life of its own, filling every bit of nothing with something… something addictive and dark and captivating.

She let the kiss burn through all of it until there was only him, wrapped her legs around his middle and moaned again as he pressed himself between her thighs, hiking his dress up to her hips. .

She wanted this to be real - enough so that she allowed him to crowd out thoughts of strategy and when he ground into her, she felt her insides liquify at the groan he released. It filled her mouth like a physical thing and she couldn't help the way her back arched at the deep sound. In doing so, it gave him access to her throat.

He took it, wrenching his mouth from hers as though it pained him greatly to do so and latched onto her neck with an all consuming hunger. His tongue traced a line up the column of her neck, leaving cool contradiction in its wake and reached the hollow below her ear that had her whimpering and clenching on absolutely nothing. His laugh was harsh against her skin. "Would your precious Order approve of this?" the venom in his voice was diluted, tired.

"You-" she started, another press of his lips against her neck cutting her off.

Her breasts ached, and she moved against him, seeking any contact with his chest, any bit of friction. But Malfoy buried his face against her neck, teeth biting down gently on her fluttering pulse. The slight hurt set her panting; the scrape of his tongue over the spot had her eyes rolling back in her head.

It had never been like this. Not when she had messed around with Krum or Ron or - it was always sloppy and messy and tedious but this- the way he played her body like a grand piano and commanded her every move from breath to blood flow - this was so very different. It forced her to be mindless. It was a completely new type of drug and allowed her to relax and forget in a way she hadn't been afforded in a very long time.

He pulled his head from her neck, though. And Hermione had never been laid so bare as she was while he ground his hips into her again and watched her writhe.

A dark smile graced his mouth. "So responsive," he purred in a voice she'd never heard but knew she'd damn near crawl to hear again. He drove his hips between hers, a lazy, thorough push of the hardness of him into the throbbing ache of her. She scrambled to regain any sense of control, of sanity and found herself wanting to surrender to him, to let him touch her, lick and suckle and fill her - Malfoy growled, a startling reminder that he was privy to her thoughts, and devoured her again.

She should regain control of the situation but she was so small and pliant in his hands and at his mercy in a way that rendered her incapable of coherent thought. It should have made her feel vulnerable but-

Their tongues tangled, their bodies pressed so tightly she could feel his heartbeat against her chest. He tasted her thoroughly, withdrew, and tasted her again. Like he was learning every place in her mouth, proof that he was just as desperate as she was.

She had to feel his skin, the hardness pushing into her with her hands, her mouth, her body. She'd go insane if she didn't, if she couldn't get these clothes off, if he stopped kissing her because fuck she had been so wrong.

He was not Draco Malfoy, the spoiled brat. He was not evil.

He was Draco Malfoy, Commander to Lord Voldemort. He was one of the most powerful wizards in the world. He was dark, yes. He did despicable things, yes. But how was she all that different? She broke rules for those she loved. The Gryffindor heart inside of her would die and bleed for nearly anybody. But the ambitious soul inside of him would kill for those he loved.

That was something Hermione had never been forced to find out if she was capable of.

She knew the answer though. It was a key difference between herself and her friends' foolish bravery.

Hermione snapped upon the realisation that they were in fact not all that different. She wedged her hand between their bodies, seeking him out. Malfoy groaned again, long and low, as her hand cupped him through his slacks. The breath stole out of her. The sheer size of him -

Her mouth watered. She was aching, so wet that every flutter of her dress against her was torture.

His kiss turned deeper, wilder, and she struggled with the button of his pants.

Malfoy's staccato breaths echoed her own. The conflict in his eyes was visible, the war between grey and silver. Fire roared in her ears and in her blood, such a stark contrast to the ice in his veins.

And when she finally managed to release the button on his trousers, he tugged sharply on her hips, pulling her off of the table and spinning her around roughly. She stumbled, though even that was controlled by him.

"Hands on the desk," he growled. She obeyed. Immediately. Funny, really, how every ingrained bit of pride and dominance in her fell to the wayside with little to no fight. He didn't stall. He was not gentle. And she wondered, perhaps a moment too late, if he had forgotten she was a virgin.

She didn't care. Not really. She didn't want gentle. She wanted a reminder that this should have been punishment. She had no right to enjoy it, not when so many others-

"Shut the fuck up." he snarled viciously, halting her train of thought. "You insufferable, pain in my fucking-" his voice was wrecked, broken up by gasping breaths. Malfoy plunged into her, stopping abruptly when Hermione let out a sound somewhere between a moan and a scream, and he found himself forcibly swallowing guttural groans. His hands shook as he held himself still, the tension in each part of him betraying his wishes.

Gods, he was large. He was- and she -

She felt his mouth curve into a smirk against her back. She couldn't even see him, in all his chiselled, weathered etherealism, and yet she was already on the cusp of combustion. She was so uncomfortably, painfully full. She could feel every ridge of his cock inside of her, unable to so much as breathe with the space he had taken up. Malfoy, however, was panting. Shallow, gasping breaths with tremors skittering up the muscles of his forearms.

Hermione mewled quietly, giving an experimental twitch of her hips and crying out into the table when it proved to be a bit too much.

Malfoy's answering chuckle was breathless and dangerous.

She was not one to admit defeat but-

"No," Malfoy's voice rumbled somewhere deep in his chest, vibrations branching outwards and into her very bones.

"I can't." she whispered, eyes welling with tears, pressing her cheek firmly against the wooden tabletop.

"Hush," he ordered, drawing back enough that he could splay one possessive hand out between her shoulder blades, drawing it downwards to stop at her lower back. He wasn't exactly pinning her down, but rather holding her still with firm, unyielding pressure. "You can take it." he growled. The command, or promise, whatever it was, hardened her resolve and she breathed, shallow little pants before nodding. And then, he inched in further, until he met resistance and Hermione screamed, loudly. Malfoy stuttered for a moment. He watched the witch beneath him pull herself together, walls fluttering in total panic before she nodded erratically.

That was all he needed.

Malfoy drew out in a long slide, and thrust back.. Her fingernails dug into the wood. He withdrew again, lowering his head to watch his cock slide out of her, gleaming with her wetness—and then enter her once again. Every possible inch into that tight, blazing core of her was paradise and torment, and he needed more, needed to be deeper, needed to crawl so far inside her that there would be no disentangling them. Fuck. He pulled out again, curling his fingers around her to flip her over until she was facing him. Face red, eyes tears, pupils wide and thoughts racing so fast he couldn't keep up with them.

And Hermione - Hermione was nearly comatose. It hurt like hell, but, at the same time, it was a type of pleasure she would never have been able to imagine in her lifetime. It was- it was absolute.

He manoeuvred her until she was spread out on the wooden table, taking everything he gave her to the best of her ability. Her nails sliced through his skin, and the scent of his blood filled the air. He just leaned down to kiss her. She parted for him instantly, automatically, whimpering in time with his thrusts. Gathering her to him, Malfoy pulled her towards him, her legs locking around his waist as he thrust up and up and up into her. She tipped her head back, baring her throat, on the curve of it where it met her freckled shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark. She keened, moving on his cock, and he drove deeper into her. Scraped his teeth over her neck.

His eyes were pure silver. Autonomous ether. Betraying the intensity of his emotions in a way that forced her to look away because he was not allowed to be as affected by this as she was. Another thrust, another mind numbing drag of his hardness inside of her and she clenched unintentionally, like her body wanted to keep him there."Fuck," he said around her breast. She laughed breathily and did it again.

She made the mistake of looking down. Watching him enter her over and over again. Only, it wasn't even all of him. That thought made her eyes roll back in her head as she tipped her forehead against his shoulder, mouthing mindlessly at the muscle there. There was only the near-savage pounding of his cock into her tight warmth, the rhythm of her hips as she met him for each stroke, as if trying to work him even deeper, like she could force it to be possible.

And then her fingers found his hair. It was only meant to ground herself. Her fingers carded through the blond hair gently at first—such a gentle, tentative, wondrous stroke that made his wooden heart trip over itself. The force with which he slammed into her then made her cry out, made her tighten her grip to a point of pain.

Then he roared as release barreled into him, and he rammed up into her in such a strong thrust that she screamed, climaxing with him. She clamped around him, pulsing and milking, and he bucked, desperate, reduced to nothing but primitive need.

His vision blacked out and it was only when the witch whimpered that he remembered to pull out of her. She hissed as he did, hand falling limply from his hair. Malfoy lowered her back onto the table's edge, bracing his palms on either side of her, chest heaving. His head was pressed to her sternum as he tried to reign in his breathing, steady it, and piece himself back together but she had completely shattered him.

Her tentative, shaky little hand touched his bicep and he flinched, jerking away from her.

It was Hermione's sad, satisfied eyes that froze his very blood and flooded his veins with terror.

She'd been - he'd just - no.

He looked broken and she hated that. She hated that she had essentially pushed him into this, goaded him and forced his restraint past its limits.

And yet - she'd just thrown Voldemort's plans very far off track, and for that reason alone she couldn't bring herself to regret it.

"I'm sorry." she whispered, crossing her arms over herself and attempting to sink into the table. He laughed, harsh and angry.

"You're not. Do not lie. It does not become you." he snarled.

"I'm not lying. I am sorry. Not for what we just did, but for the position it will put you in." Her eyes were honest. She knew they were because when his slate eyes met her honey brown ones, his nostrils flared and he spun away from her, striding out of the library as quickly as possible. The door slammed behind him and echoed off of the surrounding shelves, leaving Hermione to slip from the tabletop to the floor, where she curled in on herself. It was only when her knees were tucked beneath her chin that she saw the blood staining her dress.

A quiet knock woke her from her half-asleep daze, followed by the creaking of the library doors.

Theo. She knew it before she even smelled the orange and clove scent of him. His fingers brushed her shoulder and she shivered on impact, coiling herself more tightly.

"What have you done, Granger?" he sighed. When Hermione pried her eyes open, just enough to glimpse a sliver of the curly haired, worried wizard, her stomach tumbled through the floor. He looked concerned, sad, and worst of all- disappointed. The use of her surname didn't go unnoticed either. "You've really mucked it up this time." The force with which Hermione shut her eyes again forced a tear out from underneath her lids. "Merlin, that's a lot of blood." he sighed. "C'mon, up you get." she hesitated and when Theo spoke again, his words held a bite she had yet to hear from him. "He's broken up enough as it is. I won't have you making it worse walking around like this." It was for that reason alone that she allowed him to ease her to her feet. She pretended not to notice his flinch when her knees buckled and she bit her lip against the ache in her body.

She felt dirty now, like she had used him. No better than Bellatrix herself.

Theo whispered various charms and spelled until the stickiness vanished and Hermione was left, holding herself in front of his angered gaze.

He conjured a cup of tea next, urging her to sit. Once she had, Theo fit the cuppa tightly between her palms and tipped her head up with a finger beneath her chin.

"Drink that. I've seen ghosts with more colour than you've got." He leant against the wall across from her, arms crossed over his chest. Hermione nodded, staring into the tea rather blankly. "I know why you did it. I did the same to El." he sighed. "It's just…" his chin dropped to his chest.

"He's your best friend." Hermione whispered.

"He's my brother, Hermione. He's given up everything." Theo's voice cracked and another tear tracked down Hermione's cheek. "His freedom. His body. His morals. His future. His soul. His mother. He has nothing left." When Theo looked up again, he had a crooked, barely there little smile on his face. He had dimples. She'd never noticed that before. "You know,"

Hermione propped her chin on the edge of her mug, holding it close. "The summer before Second Year, Draco and I were playing in the gardens. Narcissa had bought us these little training brooms for his birthday and gods, I was rubbish at it." he chuckled and dragged a hand down his face. Hermione watched him disappear into the memory. "Draco though, he was magnificent, right from the start. He had reflexes like- well." he cleared his throat. "Our fathers hosted meetings quite frequently and we'd have any number of Death Eaters on the property at any given time. Usually they were held in the ballroom or sitting room but occasionally, if there was something - they would barricade themselves in the dungeons while the elves kept Draco and I busy."

He tipped his head back so that he was staring at the enchanted ceiling and Hermione found herself entirely invested in the story.

"Anyway, I crashed into a window around the back of the manor. Went right through the glass and landed smack in the centre of a meeting of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Draco came in after me of course and took the blame for all of it. Lucius was furious and Draco, he just - said he'd pushed me and thought it'd be funny." Theo forcefully blew out a breath and Hermione's heart twisted.

"Lucius caned him across the back for that. We'd interrupted a very important meeting that day." he gave her a wan smile and Hermione wiped at the wetness on her cheeks. "My father had an elf escort me home but Lucius made Draco stay, sitting at the table like a fucking adult. Made this twelve year old boy sit there and listen to all of the ways they planned to unleash utter hell on his school, his home, over the year."

"The page." Hermione breathed. Theo nodded.

"You grew up thinking the worst of him. And that's fair. He was a total prat." Theo smirked. "But he was a child. Drink." he gestured. "We learn right from wrong from our parents and how to be a man from our fathers. He didn't know better. Until he met this eleven year old little… swot." he grinned. "She wasn't self righteous like her lackeys. She was brilliant and went against everything he'd ever been taught." Hermione was certain her heart had stopped altogether. "She waltzed right into the Forbidden Forest, at eleven, without fear. He may not have been brave enough to do that, or to stop them from opening the Chamber at all, but it was… brave when weighed against the potential consequences. He did what he could think of at the moment. He gave the answer to the bravest, smartest person he knew."

He was leaning towards her now, brunette hair falling into his eyes. "And that's what he's doing now, Hermione. You may not realise it. You may see him as a coward. But he is doing what he can with how short a leash he is on. He climbed the ranks for Narcissa, yes. He did it to destroy him, yes. But he also did it knowing that the Dark Lord would give the most prized spoils of war to his most prized servants." Theo pushed off of the wall and crouched in front of Hermione, who's tears were flowing freely now and who's heart was audibly breaking. "He's giving you a fighting chance at ending this, just as he did in Second Year. Maybe it's not enough, but he is trying. You break him, it's over."

Hermione stared into her tea, breathing as though she hadn't throughout the entire monologue.

"I couldn't let him - couldn't let the Dark Lord use me for genocide. I couldn't. I'm sorry, Theo."

"We didn't expect you to." he reached to squeeze her knee. "But just… don't destroy him in the process. Please."

Hermione nodded and watched a tear fall and ripple in her mug.

When Malfoy retrieved her sometime later, it was with an oddly chatty Elodie at his side and the same mask of stone she had grown accustomed to. The gold dress Hermione had been squeezed into looked as though it had been melted directly onto her body from the contents of Malfoy's vault itself. Save for the necklace and her heels, she was otherwise naked. The look in the wizard's eye told her she looked it as well.

"Well that makes quite a bit more sense." Elodie smirked, looking her up and down as though - ah - Pansy. The blond with someone else's voice glanced to the side at her old friend, still smirking like she knew something nobody else did.

"Parkinson," Malfoy snapped.

"A moment, please, Pansy." Hermione said, one hand playing with the fingers of the other as she fought not to wither under Malfoy's gaze.

"My pleasure." Pansy purred, dragging her hand across Malfoy's chest as she retreated from the room.

Malfoy hadn't so much as twitched.

"Malfoy-" she started. His hand rose, silencing her immediately.

"You will not approve of my behaviour this evening." he stated, factually. "You will find it demeaning and offensive. Unfortunately, the use of the wine which was given to you at the previous gathering is not… advisable tonight, meaning you will have to allow this behaviour. If you cannot, I will compel you." his tone was cold and unwavering. Hermione felt sadness claw at her chest.

"I can do it." she said. "But Malfoy-" He'd already turned his back. Anger had risen inside of her and reached a boiling point. The situation as a whole was so fucking unfair and surreal and they had maybe one person each that they could confide in. But those people had their own issues and their own people. "Draco, stop." she snapped.

He froze. She saw it in the set of his shoulders how he essentially braced for impact. She moved around him, reached for his collar and forcefully pulled him down to her level.

"I am sorry."

He was hunched rather comically, eyes wide but otherwise empty where they met hers. And then they narrowed at her apology. Before she could decipher that, Hermione pressed her lips to his in a kiss he did not return and then released him and went to the door to wait.