4. A Slight Miscalculation

Draco just wanted to be with Hermione. She was just beautiful. She was so smart too. Controlling her would be like having someone who you could make yourself believe cared for you. Who better to choose? No one else was as beautiful, or as smart, or as captivating. That's the word. He was completely captivated by her. When she was with Harry and Ron, he felt so isolated, but all the more motivated to have her. And who knows? Perhaps she could really begin to care for him with her whole heart...not just her mind. She would be the firstperson to completely and utterly care for him…not use him for beating and cursing.

These thoughts had run through Draco's head many times. But all of them quickly slipped away as he watched Hermione's eyes widen with fear as his curse flew from his wand. Unfortunately, what happened next was not according to plan. Although the curse he uttered was quite correct, his aim was painfully to the right of her. Hermione sprang from her seat as soon as the curse hit the floor, and bolted for the door.

"Fuck" Draco said under his breath, and thudded after Hermione's fleeting figure making it's way down to the Great Hall. Draco mustered every ounce of strength he possessed and broke into an all out run to catch her. If she told anyone what had just happened, he would go to Azkaban for life. He had come so close to having her…whether she would end up loving him or he could just love her with nothing in return. He was gaining on her…five feet away………three feet away…two feet away….Draco launched himself into the air and in one heart-stopping moment, he jerked out his hand. He closed his eyes and prayed that he would stop her. He fell through the air with unmeasured panic, groping for anything that would slow her. He could grab her hair, an article of clothing; anything. His attempt was not left without compensation, for at last his fist clenched around a leather strap.

"Her bag." Draco thought. He reached out for a better hold with his other hand and brought down her weak body. He slammed down onto the hard stone floor and cried out in pain as he felt something snap within his body. Hermione tore herself away from him with one last, pleading look and charged for the Great Hall. Her voice seemed frozen, and her legs like lead. Just a few more steps…

Draco suddenly had an idea and prayed that it would work

"Oblitivate!"

This time his aim was dead-on. Hermione uttered a small, surprised "Oh" and then crumpled to the floor.

"Draco dragged himself up to the floor and approached her limp body. He studied her peaceful expression, then stooped to pick her up. He abruptly grabbed his side as her weight shifted to him. He quickly let her body slump to the floor as he examined his side.

"A broken rib. A broken rib." Draco repeated, trying to make himself believe what had happened.

He frantically considered what he could say to Madam Pomfrey…a Quidditch accident perhaps? But Quidditch hadn't even begun yet…would she believe he had fallen from his broom during practice? Yet, this idea was folly as well due to the fact that Quidditch practices hadn't even begun yet. He could say he fell down the stairs…yes…the trick step. A perfect story. Without any hesitance he grabbed Hermione's wrists and gently pulled her toward the Prefect's room without exerting any energy that would hurt his body even more. He quickly muttered the password and proceeded to his bedroom. He glanced around, checking for others. It was all clear however, as everyone had gone down to diner. He had to hurry to Madam Pomfrey…hopefully she could heal him swiftly and he could return to Hermione so she would not wake up alone. He limped toward the door clutching his side, gasping for air. His side seemed to scream in pain with each breath. He hated pain…but it couldn't be as much pain as Crabbe and Goyle had endured. Draco winced at the thought of his lifelong friends dying under the weight of Avada Kedavra. He felt his entire body quiver and quake at the thought of it. He too would have died like them, if it hadn't been for his father. His father. Anger boiled up inside of him just thinking of what he had done. He had set the three of them up. Like some twisted con, he had told the Dark Lord of the three boys who had passed information to the Ministry of magic. At least he was kind enough to say that Crabbe and Goyle had put the Imperius Curse on Draco. What Draco did not understand is why the Dark Lord had not seen the lie through his father's eyes. Was it not a gift of his to know when a lie was being told? In the far corner of his mind, he wondered if Crabbe and Goyle really had been passing information. He half-hoped they had, simply because he wanted nothing more to do with …him. He was surprised to find himself in front of the Hospital Wing. He supposed his feet could lead him to the familiar location by now. As he let himself into the Wing, Hermione Grange was sitting up in a dormitory, with no recollection of how she had gotten there.

Minutes later Draco emerged from the Hospital Wing with his injury healed. As he turned the corner he smacked into none other than Hermione Granger, looking politely puzzled.

"Hi….Draco?" she drawled, with a slightly whimsy voice.

"Er….yeah…Draco. Where are you going?"

"I'm not sure. I was in some dormitory…I've never seen it before."

Suddenly the most brilliant of thoughts hit Draco. Although his perfect plan had been marred, this twist was for the best. Hermione was his for the next few hours…until the spell wore off. If it wore off…

A/N: Hey guys! I wrote this in my spare time from band camp; it's exhausting!

Thank you to everyone who wrote me a review (or flame) it has really helped me sculpt my story. I'm sure someone will soon ask, "Why is this rated R?" Trust me, I'm getting there, but I needed a few chapters to build on. Expect the story to live up to its name in the next one or two chapters.