Hi guys, thanks for coming back. If you're new here, please read my other "so I think I can write fanfiction" stories.

I started writing this on my Samsung Note with the stylus pen one morning when I was trying to sleep in. It literally took on a life of its own after that. My kids have been home-schooling and using my laptop as we're in lockdown, so I wrote and edited this all on my phone in my work breaks.

WARNING - This is heavily focused on sex and sexual activities. There is questionable consent, as sex becomes the key to staying alive. If you're not into that thing, leave now. Do not post reviews telling me that this is dumb, or its not consensual or its fetish crap. Scroll on!

There will be a happily ever after and some plot and character growth along the way. Mostly just loads of sex, angsty Hermione and brooding Malfoy who doesn't reveal himself till the very end.

Not keen for negative reviews so bugger off with that crap.

Otherwise... Enjoy :-)


Hermione loved to learn. In fact, on this day, she was loving it more than usual. The class was thrilling, she was awake and she felt alive for perhaps the first time in months. She had noticed a steady decline in her magic and overall health since the battle, but had attributed it to years of fighting, worrying, surviving and the ultimate battle for her life. Of course there would be physical signs of her emotional and mental trauma. Of course she wouldn't be 100%, no one could be, after everything that happened, everything she saw, things she had done.

Today however, today she was feeling almost back to her old self. The morning had been slow, she had woken up like any other day, struggled through breakfast with her eyes half closed and trudged to the classroom, but once the class was underway, once she was surrounded by her peers, ones she loved, like Neville, Dean and Seamus and some she didn't, like Malfoy and Pansy, she felt right again.

After the battle, Hermione had travelled to Australia and, although finding her parents, she had come to the realisation that their memories would not return easily. She had abandoned them there with hopes of researching and talking to specialists with the idea that she would return them to who they once were. Sadly, the days and weeks rolled by with very little success. She had approached the most highly skilled specialists in memory modification only to learn that removing someone was easy, putting them back was close to impossible.

She returned to The Burrow, to an awkward strained relationship with Ron that ended quicker than it began, with little more than some late night kissing and awkward touching. They both knew it, they both realised. There was nothing between them that they could make work and ending it was what Hermione thought, had saved their friendship. With that all said and done though, the atmosphere was morbid, the family was in ruins. She couldn't stay there, she couldn't be part of their sorrow, when she was still coming to terms with her own. Fred's funeral was the saddest day she had experienced and it was on that day that she decided to return to her parents house and claim it as her own.

In August, she, along with every other surviving member of her year, was offered the opportunity to return to complete their NEWTS. It wasn't something she had thought about, hadn't realised it was possible until the owl arrived with the letter clutched in its claws. SHe spent three days pondering it before realising it would be crazy not to. Harry and Ron, however, had other ideas. They were both offered placed within the ministry, in the Auror department, which Harry accepted immediately. Ron, however, felt that his fighting days were over and retreated back into his family, moving into the flat above Weasley's Wizard's Wheezes at Diagon Alley and helping George reopen.

It was a bizarre concept, returning alone without her two best friends, but somehow, she always knew they would have to part ways eventually. If there were no Voldemort, if there hadn't been a battle, they would have gone different directions anyway. It didn't mean they would stop caring or that their friendships were over. Far from it. The three of them made a decision, on the final night before Hermione went back to Hogwarts and Harry went to Auror training, that they would stay in touch.

The school was different. The buildings had been put back together, the courtyard fixed, the great hall cleared of all the bodies and blood, but somehow, it was still different. It would always be different. She would always be different.

The students in every year spent the first week in one of one meetings, with classes suspended. They had house meetings where they would share stories, discuss their fears, talk about things they had seen and done. It helped, a bit. Hermione realised she was not alone, that people suffered too. That most of the students who were at school the previous year experienced the crutiatis curse at the hands of the Carrows. It wasn't just her. She wasn't the only one who didn't sleep at night and she wasn't the only one who woke up screaming.

Madame Pomphrey and Slughorn kept a continuous batch of Dreamless Sleep potion brewing at all times.

It was reasonable to expect that it was the learning making her feel better, the routines of her old life settling in, making her feel like she could experience a sense of normality. However, once she left, the lethargy, the sluggishness, the tiredness retuned. Even though it was not in her nature and never had been, she returned to her dorm after her first class and retired to her 4 poster bed. The comfort of something so familiar.

When she woke, it was dark in the dorm. The sky outside was a deep blue and the fire was burning in the centre fire place. She pulled herself out of bed reluctantly as her stomach grumbled, and made her way to the Gryffindor common room. The clock on the wall showed that it was far later than she thought, it was the evening meal time, so she drew her school cloak around herself and hurried to the Great Hall.

The hustle and bustle was almost too much for her. Her head was pounding and her legs felt like jelly. She looked around and immediately envied every single person who wasn't feeling like they had just fought the Giant Squid. Everyone was chatting animatedly with each other about their first day of actual classes. She remembered feeling that way in the past, but couldn't bring herself to even care at the moment.

"Hermione, you don't look too great" came a blurred voice.

She barely had the energy to look around before closing her eyes and resting her head on the table. She was so hungry, but didn't have the energy to even lift her head up, let alone chew and digest food.

"I think I should go to the hospital wing" she said to no one. She stood up and left the hall passing by other students as she went. She suddenly wished for Harry's cloak so people wouldn't stop her and ask her how she was or where Harry was or how her relationship with Ron was going. Usually she would be polite, but the more time that went by, the worse she felt.

She hurried through the castle and found herself at the hospital wing under the scrutiny of Madame Pomfrey.

"I haven't been drinking alcohol, I'm not pregnant, I haven't done drugs and I done have an muggle illnesses" she exclaimed, when questioned. It was one of the drawn out medical histories that the witch had to ask as a precaution.

"It sees as thought you're suffering from magical exhaustion" she said after a few tests.

"I haven't done anything though. I've noticed myself getting weak over the last few weeks but I thought it was just stress" she said.

"It appears as though that may be the cause" she said, bustling over to a cupboard full of potions. "Take this now and then another if the feeling returns. If it doesn't go away we will have to investigate further" she said, handing Hermione 4 vials.

She returned to her dorm after swallowing a nutrient potion to keep her going. She tumbled into her bed fully clothed before curling up and falling asleep under her covers. It was one thing to be sick and away from home, but another to not have parents to turn to, a mum for comfort or a dad to ruffle your hair and tell you you'll get better. This is what she felt as she allowed sleep to take over. She didn't dream because of the potion concoction she was given, which, in some ways was a relief.


Over the few weeks, Hermione found herself in the same routine. During most of her classes, shed feel almost completely like her old self again, perking up once she sat down, but then feeling rotten as soon as she left. The potions that she was taking were slowly starting to have less of a positive effect on her and she found that by the end of November, she was walking around in a daze, trying to get from one class to another, trying to figure out why she felt so different during classes and so completely rotten every other time.

"Hermione, maybe you should speak to someone else? Get a different perspective?" Nevillle asked her one day in the Great Hall.

"Madame Pomfrey is the school medi-witch, I don't see how another opinion will be any different" she said.

"Well, it just seems like… I mean, theres no reason for you to feel better in class and worse outside of class. This feels like dark magic to me" Neville said.

"If that's the case, why am I the only one effected?" she asked, looking around the hall. There was no one who seemed to display any signs of feeling like crap the way she did. She looked up and down Gryffindor table, having already established that whatever it was, wasn't contagious. There were no Ravenclaws or Hufflepuffs that seemed off and when she looked t the Slytherin table, they all looked fine too, apart from the noticeable people who were missing. In fact, she hadn't realised that the 8th year Slytherins, Malfoy, Pansy, Daphne, Theo and Blaise were usually absent.

"Why don't the Slytherins come to meals?" she asked.

"Shame? Guilt? Would you? After everything they did?" Neville asked.

"I suppose not" she said, finishing the little of her food that she could before standing to leave. She had been called to a meeting with McGonagall, although, she felt like she should take the opportunity to talk about her health and how she wa feeling, rather than whatever school policy McGonagall had in mind.

She didn't want to believe that Pomfrey could be wrong, that she could be treating her for stress when there was something else at play, but what Neville said couldn't be ignored.

"You may enter" McGonagall said.

"Headmistress, I need to talk to you about my health" Hermione started with. She had rehearsed the conversation over and over in her head on the way, but at the last minute, decided to just come out with it.

"I have had reports from Madame Pomphrey outlining her concerns" McGonagall said.

"Isn't that a little…" she began, fearing that there was surely a line that had been crossed.

"Breach of your privacy? I assure you, it is in your best interests" McGonagall said.

"So, what do you think?" she asked.

"I don't think this is stress related" the headmistress said.

"Well, what is it? Why do I feel like death warmed up until I get to class?" she asked.

"Tell me, miss Granger, what classes are they? Specifically"

"Well, all of them" she said.

"Which students are in your classes?"

"Well, all of them" Hermione answered, rubbing her aching neck with her fingers.

"You're taking every available class?"

"Yes… You know this professor… I don't see what this has to do with anything. Who's in my class, which classes I'm taking. Do you know what's wrong with me or don't you?" she asked, her frustration causing her to feel out of breath and weak. She doubted whether she'd even be able to levitate a feather at this point.

"It is all relevant and you'll understand why and how as soon as I do" McGonagall said.

"Every class. Some classes only have a few of us in them, some have more" she said, rolling her eyes.

McGonagall sat high behind her desk, the same desk that Dumbledore used to sit behind, the same desk that she knew Harry had sat in front of, time and time again, begging for answers, asking for help but being given nothing. This felt just like that. SHe felt like she was being asked so many questions but being given nothing in return.

McGonagall has seemingly finished surveying Hermione, because she stood up and walked over to the bookshelf, perusing books for a few moments before selecting two and bringing them back to her desk.

"I would like you to have a look over these, if you can manage. I believe they hold the key to unlocking what is happening here" she said.

"Bonds of Magic and Enemy curses?" she asked.

A knock at the door interrupted before she could answer and Hermione sat still, waiting for instructions.

"If you will, miss Granger" Mcgonagall indicated to a chair under the window before calling to allow the knocker to enter.

Hermione moved over to the seat, reluctantly, her body aching and her head spinning. She held in her hands the books that she was given and took the opportunity to read the first few pages.

When she heard the voice of the person who entered, she squeezed her eyes shut and exhaled silently.

She hadn't interacted with Malfoy since she had returned to school. She had been present at his trial, at which he was acquitted on the proviso that he attends Hogwarts and obtain his NEWTS.

"You wanted to see me professor?" he asked, his tone casual. She looked up briefly and noticed his stance, not the same as it usually was. Something was slightly off with him, but she couldn't place it. Perhaps the war had taken its toll on him too. Perhaps carrying out the whims of a sadistic madman did leave an impression, no matter how horrid of a person you already were to begin with?

She skimmed through the book she had been given, trying not to pay attention to the meeting that was happening in the room in front of her. At first she thought it was odd that McGonagall didn't send her away, but she was soon wrapped up in the book, she didn't notice much else around her. She started reading about magical bonds, about how people can be tied to other people and the impacts unrevealed bonds can have on their magic. It was intriguing to her and the more she read, the clearer her mind became. After a while, there was no pian, she was no longer tired, and her body felt almost brand new.

The information felt so relevant to her, so real. It made sense, the things that she read. Unrevealed bonds can strip a person of their magic entirely, until they admit to their feelings, reveal the bond and provoke it's intentions. It was bizarre to Hermione though, she hadn't felt drawn to anyone, hadn't had unrealistic fantasies or visions of a life with someone. There was no way for her to think that any of this was relevant to her… except that it was. Everytihng she was feeling, everything she was going through was a symptom of an unrevealed bond.

She was drawn out of her thoughts when McGonagall came and sat across from her in an adjacent chair. She looked around, noticing that Malfoy had apparently left.

"How do you feel, presently?" she asked.

"I feel almost normal. Like I do when I'm in classes. It could be the learning…?" she began.

"I don't think it's the learning, Miss Granger, I think you have an unrevealed bond" McGonagall said.

"The book stated that a person who had an unrevealed bond, was also drawn to their bond-mate. Would think about them, fantasise about them. The bond should be obvious…" she said, outlining her biggest issue with this whole idea.

"Yes, that is a major characteristic of bonds. You're supposed to be drawn to the other person and them to you" McGonagall said.

"So why then?" she asked.

McGonagall leant over and took the other book from Hermione.

"Enemy curses, Miss Granger are quite rare. Its very old magic, but magic nonetheless" she said.

"I hadn't gotten to that one yet" she said, feeling her head begin to ache and her eyes glaze over once again. She rubbed at her temple and noticed McGonagall narrow her eyes, taking in her change.

"You feel worse now?" she asked.

"Well, now that im not reading" she said.

"When you read and study in your common room, do you feel better?" she asked.

"Not usually. I'm usually too tired to do any of that. I try and get my work done in class" she answered, not feeling like herself at all. Hermione Granger was a studious, ambitious student who studied hard after class and completed feet longer scrolls of homework than was ever assigned. She most definitely wasn't herself.

"This book, one of Dumbledores in fact, discusses the types of curses that can be placed on enemies. Curses to cause grief, make one's life difficult. There are things such as enemy provoking, which can provoke two people who were once friends to become enemies, there are lust curses, which causes enemies to lust after one another. There are also bond provocation curses. Curses which are solely designed to force two enemies into a bond without knowing they're bonded. THe outcome is quite severe and often leads to complete and irreversible loss of magic" McGonagall said.

Hermione didn't speak, she just sat and tried to take it all in as her body began to feel heavy.

"Both Madame Pomphrey and myself believe that you have been the victim of an Enemy Bond Curse" she stated with finality.

"Enemy bond curse? With who?" she asked.

"Tonight's experiment may have proved it. Tell me, how many classes do you share with Mister Malfoy?" she asked.

"All of them" Hermione answered, breathing heavily, not wishing that this would go where it seemed to be going.

"And you felt almost instantly better when he walked into the room?"

"Well, yes, but I was nose deep in a book, I was barely even aware that he was here. I wasn't listening in or anything… I don't think…" she said.

"I do think… In fact, Mister Malfoy has been experiencing very similar symptoms to what you have been experiencing" McGonagall said.

"No… I would have noticed. Someone would have…." Hermione said, her brain registering what she was now being told was true.

"You've only seen him when he's been well, because proximity is what keeps you from succumbing to the curse…. For now" she said.

"I cant… I cant have a bond with Malfoy. Its just cruel" she said.

"Yes, cruel. Who is one person who would want to make you suffer? Who tried to hurt you but was thwarted?" she asked.

Bellatrix.

"Who betrayed her master at the end? Threw Harry a wand?" she continued.

Malfoy.

"Does it not make sense that a mad woman would use her death to set in stone a curse on the teenage girl who thwarted her and the traitor nephew who aided in the downfall of her master?" McGonagall asked.

"What do I do then? What does this all mean?" she asked. "How do we stop it?" she asked.

"I don't have those answers. The potions you've been taking aren't useful anymore, you need proximity. We've established that" McGonagall said.

"We live in opposite ends of the castle" Hermione declared.

"I'm authorising an 8th year transfer to a common dorm. You're all of age anyway, it makes no sense to have you sharing with first years" she said.

"And that should help us?" she asked.

"It will be a start" she said.