"The Sickness"

There were flashes of spells. Screams reverberated off the walls of the spacious lavatory. There was a sudden splash of water upon the two bodies. There was a smack as a head landed on the floor, sending waves of pain through the owner's body. Her chest heaved as her breath quickened in sharp pains. She tried to lift her hands to fight off her oppressor, yet came of no avail. He had wrapped his fingers around her wrists and pinned her to the tiled floor. Both were sopping wet as he buried his face into her neck; her tears mingling with the water. She closed her eyes and screamed, trying to endure the pain of his penetration. As her crying grew more fierce, so did his thrusts. Then, all went dark.

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Hermione pushed herself off of her four-post bed. Her body ached with such force that all she could do was sink into her pillows. What had she done to make her ache so? She heard the stirring of the other girls in the dormitory. With a groan, she got out of bed and changed into her robes.

She slowly walked into the Common Room. There were some stragglers still that had yet to make their way to the Great Hall for a spot of breakfast. Frankly, Hermione wasn't hungry at all. She took this time to take a walk around the school. It wasn't very long but she soon found that it was more trouble than it was worth. On the seventh floor, a mousy looking first year had screamed at the sight of her and dropped her books. Hermione tried to help but the girl just ran off. Then on the third floor, Peeves attempted to drop a well of ink on her. Finally, she gave up and crept into the Great Hall.

Harry was acting a bit peculiar, more than likely because of his secret lesson with Dumbledore last night. Contemplating the night, Hermione couldn't remember what it was that she done. She was getting quite annoyed with herself, which didn't happen often. She racked her brain for all possible ideas. Thinking it a lost cause, she came to the conclusion that she had been studying too hard to remember anything else. Her mind must be filled to capacity.

After a nibble of toast, the three of them took flight to the green houses, where Harry brought to light the new information of Voldimort. It was quite interesting but she could not see how she could give it more thought.

Leaving Herbology, Hermione mulled over the thoughts of her and Ron. Does he still like me? Of course he does. What if he likes Lavender more than me? Why would he? She seemed to have just successfully made Ron jealous, of McLaggen, no less. She couldn't wait for the "Slug Club" party. She had agreed to take him. What would I wear? How will I do my hair? With her mind on nothing else, she could hardly notice the looming figure before her. There was a knocking of bodies as Hermione plowed into a very hard faced Malfoy.

"Oh, s-s-so sorry! My fault…" She looked up into his face with eyes filled with an inexplicable terror. Her entire body ceased itself, daring not to move nor breathe. She wanted to escape but there seemed no way out. All she could do was stare, wide eyed at the face of pure horror, as she fought to steady her heart. Ron was so far from her mind, that the mere thought of a hair on his head would have brought the utmost comfort, security, and relief.

Without a word, the pale Draco strutted past leaving the poor girl shaken and disturbed. Oh, God. Oh, Dear God. Hermione could not fathom the gripping trepidation that choked her so violently. It was Malfoy for God's sake. Who in their right mind would be afraid of that ferret? Yet, she did not want to experience that again.

She continued her day with a shaking fear of the unknown. She tried to calm herself. It seemed successful when neither Ron nor Harry noticed anything odd about her. All she could think about the rest of the day was Malfoy and the reason for the inexplicable dread of his presence. Malfoy was the last thing she thought of before dozing off in the late evening.

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It was dark on the second corridor. No living soul seemed to be stirring, beside a bushy haired woman clumsily drifting along the wall as she dragged a hand across the cold stone. A light came up ahead. A young, strapping man turned the corner. His wand was held at arm's length with a powerful grip. He had wavy brown hair and a glinting prefect badge on his chest. He was medium built but moved with a grace not coherent with his type.

"There you are…" said the girl lazily.

"Who…What are you doing here?" The boy replied. He took her in, dumbfounded. This was not the young lady he knew. Her dress was sloppy, her tank-top sleeve fell below her shoulder nearly exposing her braless chest, and she moved with a drunken air though no alcohol could be detected. She seemed to be more like in a trance.

"Donn' make me cry…" she slurred. Advancing on him, she put out a hand to touch his broad chest.

"Wha…? Now, now. Get off. Whatthehellareyoudoing!" He couldn't believe it. She had began to kiss his neck and attempted to remove his robes with fumbling fingers.

"This is what you wanted. Isn't it? Isn't it, Malfoy? I'm just giving you what you want. Next time, don't take it. I'll be good. Just don't take it from me…" Tears glazed her brown saucers of eyes when she lifted her head to stare at the perplexed boy.

"But…Um…What? I'm not-" At this she began to softly sob into his breast. He could not help but feel pity for her. She was a relatively attractive girl; one he had seen on many occasion. His hormones flared as she continued her kissing.

"Don't hurt me." she whispered.

"I won't. I would never hurt you." And the two disappeared into an open classroom while their lips interlocked.