Pretty sure that I was on something while typing this. Happy Holidays!

Hermione stared ahead, eyes blank and mind just as empty. She could faintly hear the sound of running bathwater, the droplets pinging off of the wall as the water splashed into the tub. She could acknowledge that Draco was speaking, saying something to her, but she could not say as to what. Rodolphus Lestrange was dead. She had killed him…and she couldn't even remember it.

In all honesty, Hermione was not sure that she wanted to remember it. That was something she was positive that she wanted to keep hidden away forever. This…entire situation was something that she just wanted to keep hidden away forever. Hermione Granger was no murderer…except….she was a murderer.

Hermione slowly glanced down, her eyes trailing along her bloodied clothing. The liquid had long settled in, the dark red color making her look like something out of a horror film. She bit her lip, eyes watering as she held her hands up to her face. How did I get here? How did she get here? When did she turn into…this? Movement in front of her pulled her attention away from her somber thoughts to the angelic face in front of her. Oh…right.

Draco was kneeling in front of her, a pure vision of perfection. Per usual, he was dressed head to toe in black, the dark color contrasting against his fair tone. His pale hair fell over his forehead perfectly, not a strand out of place. His bright eyes practically glowed as they rested on her, like a cat, and his sinful lips that were normally curved into a smirk, were straight and flat today.

He looked like an angel, an angel in black, but there was nothing angelic about Draco. Draco was the equivalent of the devil himself. He was toxic, intense, constantly going from one extreme to the next. He was fiercely jealous and incredibly possessive and it was quite clear to Hermione, now more than ever, that he had a twisted view of the world. He was Hades in the flesh and the longer she remained, the more she began to see herself as Kore.

"I killed him," she quietly said, gazing into his eyes.

Not a flicker of emotion passed through his gaze, but he did exhale, tilting his head to the side as he reached up and brushed her hair away from her face.

"I know," he said in a small, soothing voice as if he were talking to a child.

Hermione swallowed and bit her lip, looking down. She felt Draco wrap his hands around her upper arms, gently coaxing her onto her feet. She didn't even mind when he began to peel her clothes off, the garments heavy with blood as they stuck to her skin. She remained in her bra and underwear, but neither one of them paid any mind to her indecent attire as he helped her into the steaming bath water.

Hermione closed her eyes as the heat surrounded her, not realizing just how much she needed it until that moment. She let out a quiet breath as Draco began to scrub the blood off of her skin, the action already making her feel ten times lighter. She leaned her head back as he ran the water down her neck, washing away the blood and grime.

"I killed him, Draco," she repeated.

"He killed your parents," was his immediate harsh reply.

She flung her eyes open, turning her head to pin him with a hard stare.

"…and that's supposed to make it okay?"

"Yes," he answered just as quickly, his tone equally as biting as hers.

She blinked, turning her head away, thinking of all of the things she could say to refute that statement when he continued.

"We are in the middle of a war. Lives are going to be lost, that is a fact. Lestrange was just one of the many casualties, if you can even call him that…," he scoffed before continuing "…We both know that all of this is going to come to head, sooner rather than later. Imagine how many of your friends, your classmates he would have killed. Just think of all the lives you saved by killing him."

Hermione shook her head, refusing to look at him.

"Are you honestly regretting that this world has one less person like him in it? Or are you more horrified that you're the one who did it?"

"I…that's not who I am, Draco. It can't be… I refuse to be like you," she stated.

"Newsflash, it's too late for that," he said.

She winced, the truth in his words hitting her right where it counted. She gazed down at the red tinted water, eyes somber. He pushed her hair over her shoulder, his thumb tracing circles just beneath her ear.

"You and I are more alike than you would like to admit…now more than ever," he darkly whispered.

She slowly turned to face him, her eyes once again resting on his annoyingly perfect appearance. How was it fair that he continued to be the pinnacle of perfection while she crumbled and lost a bit more of herself day after day? Why could he look like that while her inner turmoil began to reflect on the outside as well?

She slowly ducked under the water, eyes tightly shut as the dark liquid surrounded her. It was still heated, enveloping her like lava, seeping into her skin. She wasn't sure how long she remained beneath the surface, but when she slowly broke through, lifting her head, eyes still closed before slowly turning and opening them to look at Draco, he was gazing at her with an unreadable expression.

She blinked, suddenly bringing her hand up, smearing the murky water along his skin. He didn't seem to mind the slight stain of red now on the side of his face though, his focus entirely on her. She ran her fingers through his hair, staining it as well as she leaned closer. Maybe Draco was right. Maybe she and him did have more in common than she would have liked to admit. To her, admitting that would mean that she wasn't the same. It would be the almost equivalent of admitting defeat.

Draco was cruel, demented, jealous, twisted…and she kissed him.

His lips devoured hers with a fierceness, taking her by surprise as he wrapped his arm around her waist with an iron grip. He pulled her out of the water, the sound of it splashing around her and onto the floor reaching her ears. She dug her nails into his arms as his lips moved over hers, her body alit with sparks.

She faintly noted that they were moving backwards, into his bedroom, no doubt. He picked her up, forcing her legs around his waist and she wrapped her arms around his neck. Hermione knew that no matter what angle she looked at it from, no matter how she twisted it, what she was doing was wrong. However, she had killed a man. She wanted to forget that, even if only for a minute or two.

Her back connected with the softness that was his bed, water soaking into his comforter. Once again, that seemed to be the last thing on Draco's mind as his teeth nipped at the skin of her neck, sucking and pulling, causing her to let her eyes flutter closed. She swallowed as she ran her hands over him, heart pounding as everything began to build up within her.

Hogwarts, Dumbledore, the Horcruxes, Harry, Ginny, Lestrange. Everything began bombarding her at once and she felt herself overflowing. Everything that Draco had put her through since their sixth year, Harry's persistence and his eventual…triumph. Ginny hiding an entire part of her life from Hermione. Her pregnancy and her eventual miscarriage. The absolute horror that she had felt upon realizing what she had done to Lestrange. It was almost like she was watching herself balance on the railing of the astronomy tower and then she just…tipped.

As Draco brought his lips back up to hers, she opened her eyes, trailing her fingers up his arm and whispering against his lips:

"Did you know that Harry and I had sex?"

Her words had the desired effect as she felt him freeze over her. The atmosphere around them changed, drastically, as his lips paused mid movement. She knew that telling him this while she was beneath him wasn't exactly the smartest idea, but for some unknown reason, she was not worried for her safety.

Draco slowly lifted himself, wide eyes connecting with her own. He looked at her as if she had grown another head. He looked at her with the most peculiar mix of anger, disbelief, and revulsion. His jaw was clenched, nostrils flaring as he visibly got angrier and angrier. He looked at her like he wanted to both kill her and fuck her at the same time. Hermione knew that if Harry was there at the moment, he would be a dead man.

"Actually…that's not entirely true. He raped me. He used the Imperius curse to get what he wanted…," she continued.

It seemed that these words had an even worse effect as he almost flew off of her. She slowly sat up, wet hair drying madly around her head like a curly halo. No, Hermione disregarded what she had thought before. Now she knew, if Harry was there at this moment, he would be unrecognizable once Draco was finished with him.

She almost felt sorry for Draco. Almost…then she remembered everything he had put her through. Every tear, every heartache, every time she both wanted to kiss him and throw him down a flight of stairs at the same time. Hermione was irrevocably changed, he had ruined her. She had accepted that now, but she was going to be damned if she didn't ruin him a little more in the process.

"How does it feel, Draco? How does it feel to know that –how do you boys say it? - he got to me first?"

She raised an eyebrow and watched as he turned around, bracing his hands against the wall, shoulders heaving. She slid off of the bed, approaching him.

"If it makes you feel any better…I barely remember it. It's kind of like looking at it through a foggy window."

Her words came out very robotic, as if she were reading lines or something. She didn't know what possessed her to tell him-no, to throw it in his face, but it was too late to turn back now.

"The crazy thing is…I both hate him and am grateful to him for it. You don't deserve that part of me, Draco. You and I both know it. I'm not going to lie, it's a little satisfying to see how much this is affecting you," she taunted, standing right over his shoulder now.

He slowly turned around, eyes blazing as they connected with hers. She swallowed, tempted to take a step back from the look in his eyes, but she refused to be afraid. What more could he possibly do to her?

"I've always seen right through you, Draco. Ever since we were younger, you were jealous of Harry, of all three of us. You couldn't understand how a poor blood traitor like Ron could have the family and happiness within that family that you would never have," she spat.

She ran her fingers down his cheek.

"You hated me for besting you in all of our subjects, baffled that a mudblood was better than you."

He simply gazed at her though dark eyes, completely still like a ticking time bomb.

"You hated Harry because everything just came so naturally to him. Teachers' acceptance, making friends, the Quidditch team. He didn't have to buy any of that and you hated him for it. Now you can hate him for this too. He got what you'll never get," she harshly whispered.

She didn't even flinch when the balcony windows behind them shattered, glass flying everywhere. She never took her eyes off of him.

"He didn't even get it fairly. He took it, Draco."

She was crying now and this time she did wince when the study doors and bathroom door flew open, startling her as his eyes grew darker and darker.

"He cheated. How does that feel, Draco?"

He gripped her arms, firmly, but not enough to hurt as he pushed her back.

"Shut up, Hermione," he said, speaking for the first time since she started.

"No! I have to deal with this every day. I've had to live with it. I won't do it alone. If I have to suffer with this then you're going to suffer with me," she said through clenched teeth.

Draco closed his eyes, looking away.

"Go on. Look…we both know that you want to."

His eyes flew open, glaring at her.

"Look, Draco. I'm sure that you'll find more than I remember," she whispered.

And he did look. She felt the foreign force sifting through her mind as he gazed into her eyes. They both relived it as the memory was brought to the forefront of her mind and she shuddered, collapsing from the toll it took as he threw himself away from her.

She looked up at him from her position on the floor through blurry eyes, taking in the horrified and forlorn expression on his face. Draco's eyes were wide as if he had seen a ghost, chest heaving. A myriad of emotions passed over his features, one she did not recognize nor understand.

"Do you feel it, Draco? Do you feel that pathetic, hopeless feeling of trying to fix a situation you believe is out of your control? Do you feel like you're drowning? Do you feel…useless?"

She didn't give him time to answer.

"That's how I feel on an almost constant basis. That's a fraction of how I feel knowing that you are never going to change. That's just a taste of how I feel when I think about how I'm never going to be the way I was."

Draco's eyes were glassy as he glared at her, no doubt replaying what he saw on a loop in his mind. He was such a masochist like that.

"That doesn't even compare to how I feel when I think about how I feel…about you..."

Hermione swallowed, tears skipping down her cheeks.

"…because, see, I know what you're capable of and then I know who you actually are and it's two very different people…"

She closed her eyes.

"…then you switch it up. You do it t-to confuse me and- and drive me absolutely insane. Well, I refuse to be the only one. So you keep playing that over and over again in your mind. You think about it over and over again, how Harry-."

He was making a mess of the room before she could even finish. She cried as furniture and books and paper flew past her, always missing her, and landing on opposite sides of the room. Furniture was being thrown out of the balcony, the sound of it crashing onto the ground below reaching her ears.

She twisted her hands into her hair as he screamed and she found that she surprisingly took no pleasure in it. This is what you wanted, she told herself. He deserves this. This was true and he deserved much more, but she found herself feeling…cruel. She had thrown it in his face, knowing exactly how he would react. In fact, she had anticipated his reaction, looked forward to it even.

She had done this with the mere purpose of hurting him. She had wanted him to feel just a fraction of what she felt. She didn't want to be the only one suffering through this ordeal. She had wanted revenge, wanted to mock him and with a shock, she realized that it was something that he would have done. Did that make it wrong? Was it too cruel, even after everything he had put her through?

By the time he was done, the entire room was unrecognizable. She looked up at him as he tugged on his hair, the pale tresses sticking up all over the place as his chest heaved. His eyes were wild, darting this way and that before finally zeroing in on her like a lens. She stood on shaky legs as he approached her, refusing to crumble under his hard gaze.

They stared at one another for a long time before he crashed his lips against hers, backing her up against the wall. She was taken by surprise and didn't know how to keep up with the force of the kiss. He suddenly pulled away, resting his hands on the wall behind her before letting his head drop against her shoulder. She noticed that his shoulders were shaking before he suddenly lifted his head, a humorless and bitter smile on his lips.

"I don't even have any right whatsoever to be upset…because this is my fault," he forced out, running his thumb down her cheek.

Hermione frowned in confusion. Hermione supposed that if she looked at it from a certain angle, she could find some way to blame him. Draco didn't elaborate, instead he backed up, a troubled look in his eyes before he left, the door slamming shut behind him.

"Draco told me that you were dealing with something rather…heavy."

Hermione sighed as she set Narcissa's tea down in front of her. She hadn't seen Draco in days, but she knew that he was still around. Quite frankly, after she was given time to give it some thought, she did not feel bad for what she had done. Was it petty? Yes. Cruel even? Most definitely. Was it also well deserved? Yes, she had finally concluded to herself. Would she regret it later on down the road? That was still up for debate.

Even though he didn't want to see her, he had still summoned his mother to come and keep her company as if she were a child. Narcissa was kind, she had to admit, but the woman also had her own agenda, one that coincided perfectly with her son's. The woman was sweet, yes, but Hermione felt that she also had unrealistic expectations for her son.

"He shouldn't have told you that. That wasn't his place," Hermione replied as she sat down.

Narcissa threw the younger witch what she probably thought was a comforting smile. Narcissa examined her hands before picking up her tea and taking a sip.

"He's worried. I can tell, can hear it in his voice. Whatever it is has got him…shaken up," the older woman said as she set her tea back down.

Hermione imagined that it did.

"I would imagine so. I sort of…threw it in his face. My goal was to hurt him like he's hurt me. I know that he's your son, but I'm not sorry," Hermione replied.

Narcissa exhaled, shoulders sagging as she did so.

"I understand. I just wish that…the two of you weren't so stubborn…"

Hermione looked away, rolling her eyes at Narcissa's choice of words.

"That's an interesting way of looking at it…"

"This…news… Does it relate to your parents? Draco told me that he told you," Narcissa said.

Hermione smiled a rather cruel and bitter smile.

"No, it doesn't. Did he also tell you that I killed Lestrange?"

Narcissa choked on her tea, her eyes going wide as she hurriedly wiped at her mouth, looking up at Hermione.

"You did…what?"

Hermione swallowed as Narcissa shakily set her cup down before making eye contact.

"I killed him. I don't even remember it…I just remember him taunting me and then suddenly I'm over him. The knife is in my hand and there's blood everywhere."

Hermione was proud of herself for being able to recount it without a breakdown. Of course, this also worried her as well. Narcissa's eyes softened as she reached towards the younger girl.

"Hermione…"

"Draco got what he wanted," Hermione sharply said.

"Killing someone…taking a life…it is never easy. In some situations, it cannot be avoided. I'm sorry that you had to go through that," Narcissa quietly said.

Hermione stood, walking into the kitchen, she could hear Narcissa following behind her.

"I can understand your anger and malice towards Draco. I sympathize with your need to exact revenge, to make him feel like you do."

Hermione sighed again as she gathered their dishes from their little 'luncheon'. She knew where Narcissa was headed with this conversation, she could hear it in her voice.

"Narcissa-."

"You want to hurt him and I want him to see reason. He needs to wake up, he needs to realize what he's doing and just what it could cost him. He needs to know that he could lose you any moment…"

Hermione had heard it all from the older witch before. The woman loved her son, that much was obvious, and she would clearly do anything to see him happy. Hermione just wished that she could get it through her head that Hermione was not going to be able to change him. They were not going to get married and give this woman the grandchildren she so desperately wanted. Hermione spun around.

"That's enough. I-."

Hermione cut herself off with a gasp as she looked at Narcissa with wide eyes. Draco's mother had a look of pure determination upon her face as she stared Hermione down. Hermione felt numb at first, the shock of what had just happened frightening her more than the act itself. Then, of course, the shock wore off and she felt the pain…and it hurt like hell.

Narcissa removed the knife and Hermione collapsed, grasping her side, her body hitting the floor as she scrunched her eyes together. She could hear Narcissa yelling for Draco, but Hermione could hardly pay attention to that. Hermione pressed her hands to her skin as tightly as possible to try and stem some of the bleeding, but there was no way to accurately judge how well she was doing.

She tried to think of any healing spell, anything at all, but her mind was a complete jumbled mess. She was in pain, so at least that was a good sign. The area hadn't gone numb yet. She could hear Draco yelling now, he was right next to her. She forced her eyes open to see him yelling at Narcissa and she briefly wondered if he was capable of killing his own mother. The last thing she saw was his wild eyes as he took out his wand, aiming it right at her.

That whole family is cray cray. Let me know what you think!