Warning: Mentions of assault

My love, leave yourself behind

Beat inside me, leave you blind

My love, you have found peace

You were searching for release

- My Love, Sia

Hermione furiously scrubbed at her skin, blood rushing to the surface, threatening to leak through. The once pretty clear water was now rose tinted, staining the once porcelain white tub. She could hear Draco outside of the door, on the phone and pacing. She looked up, peaking through her wet hair, a frown on her face.

She recalled Draco's tense frame and quick movements as he all but hauled her to his car. His aura did not change once as they made their way to his house. As soon as she had started to run the bath water, he was on the phone, voice hushed. Regardless, she could still hear the strain hovering just below the surface. She looked down at the water, an anxious feeling creeping into her chest. Something was very wrong.

Her eyes met his as the door swung open, and he sighed, approaching her. Hermione wanted to question him, but he spoke before she could get a word out.

"Let me see your back…," he whispered, sitting on the edge of the tub.

"It's not so bad," she said, turning around, anyway.

He ran his fingers over her back, and she hissed, jumping slightly. A shudder passed through her when his lips met the skin almost immediately after, fingers brushing along her shoulders now.

"Draco…who was on the phone?"

"No one that you need to worry about," he quickly replied, standing up.

Hermione spun around, sloshing water as she studied him.

"Why won't you look at me?"

Draco's back was facing her, fingering a bottle of perfume on the counter.

"I know that there's something that you aren't telling me," she whispered.

He sighed, running his hands down his face.

"I should be able to ensure your friends' safety within the next four weeks…"

Hermione sharply inhaled, blinking, her feelings at war. Four weeks was so soon…and yet so long.

"Okay," was all that she said.

"Until then…I can't guarantee your safety. I can't-," he cut himself off, pacing again.

"What is going on?"

"I want to get you out of here, hide you away somewhere. I should, you know," he said, eyes hard as they landed on her.

"Draco…my friends. You know that's the only reason I even half way listen to a thing he says. If it weren't for them I would've hidden from him a long time ago," she quietly said.

Draco closed his eyes, leaning against the counter. She knew that if it were his way, he would've damned her friends to a tragic fate just to make sure that she was safe. She wasn't sure how she felt about that, to be honest.

"Tell me what is going on," she demanded.

Draco threw his head back, eyes resting on the ceiling as he exhaled.

"That was my father on the phone…"

Her eyes widened, taken aback by this. Draco hardly ever spoke of his father. The few times he'd come up in conversation, nothing but disdain seemed to drip from Draco's lips, eyes icy as he spoke of the elusive man. Hermione wondered why the older Malfoy was getting involved. She could see him swallow, fingers clenching around the counter.

"He wants to meet you," he continued.

Her mouth parted, eyes widening even further as she processed this information. She shakily stood, vision swimming as she struggled to get out. Draco was there in a flash, helping her out and wrapping a towel around her.

"W-what? Why?"

He sighed again, fingers pressing into her arms as he briefly closed his eyes.

"I started a war, tonight."

Words escaped her as she fought to figure out what he meant.

"When I killed Flint and those two guards, I started a war. I drew first blood, Hermione-."

"No, that's… He was trying to hurt me! Besides, I'm the one who shot him. His chances of surviving that were slim-."

"I dealt the killing blow. My bullet is the one that killed him, all of them. That's all that matters," he whispered.

Hermione stumbled away from him, tightening the towel around her as she leaned against the counter.

"So…what does this mean?"

There was a tense pause, Draco not answering right away as he regarded her, debating.

"It means that they won't stop until I'm dead."

"Oh my God," she brokenly whispered, sliding to the floor.

He was suddenly there, hands on her face, eyes seeking her own.

"Hey…that isn't going to happen," he reassured.

Hermione reached out to clutch his arms, heart going a mile a minute beneath her chest.

"I'm not going to let that happen-."

"You don't- you can't… You're not…a God, Draco! They're going to be coming after you, and they very well could succeed," she hissed.

"Ye of little faith," he replied, a small smirk on his lips.

"You're not worried. Of course you aren't worried," she huffed in annoyance, getting up and pushing past him.

"I'm only worried about how this will affect you. Using you to kill me is a last resort, I'm sure, but it's only a matter of time before he tries," he explained, following her.

Hermione collapsed onto his bed, heart heavy.

"Hermione…I am more than capable of taking care of myself," he quietly said, sitting down beside her.

"I'm afraid of him, Draco. I mean, nothing has changed, I still want to give him what he deserves, but… I am so bloody terrified of him. The fact that you aren't worries me…"

He took her face in his hands, tilting her head so that he could press his lips against hers. She pressed one hand against his chest, the other against his back, a moan escaping her throat when his tongue slipped past her lips, her back hitting the mattress. He pulled away, brushing his lips against hers once more before speaking.

"Do you honestly think I'd let anything come in between us? Even death?"

Hermione stared at him for a moment before shaking her head.

"No," she whispered.

"I'm not going anywhere. Alright?"

Hermione reluctantly nodded, wrapping her legs around his waist as he pressed his face into her neck.

"What happened last night, Hermione?" Teddy demanded, eyes wild as he pulled her into the house.

The large mansion was quiet, intensely and unnervingly so. She glanced around.

"Where is he?"

"He's out, but he's on his way back, and I'm sure that you know why…"

His blue eyes bore into her own, jaw clenched as he waited for an explanation.

"…what I told you what would happen," she whispered.

He frowned, walking her towards the lavish living room.

"What do you mean?"

She sat down, looking up at him with a huff.

"Flint tried to rape me! That is what happened," she spat.

His eyes widened, face reddening with anger.

"I…told you. I told you that I didn't feel safe around him-."

"So you called your boyfriend? Do you even realize what's been done?"

"Draco was already on his way over! We'd made plans and… I'm the one who shot Flint, okay? I was just defending myself," she said.

"…but you didn't kill him. You didn't kill Damien and Nick. Your little boyfriend started something that could get all of us killed!"

"My little boyfriend? None of this would have happened if Flint wasn't such a disgusting excuse of a human being. You can't seriously be blaming Draco for this?" she demanded, standing now.

Teddy spluttered.

"No, of course not. I just…"

"What? You just what?"

"If it had been you or me that killed them, then all of this would simply blow over. Riddle has been aching for any excuse possible to rightfully go after the Malfoys, and Malfoy knew this. He handed this to Riddle right on a silver platter," he harshly whispered.

Hermione looked down.

"Riddle is going to kill him, Hermione-."

"No."

"You don't understand what he's capable of. I know that you think you do, but you don't know how cunning, how vindictive he really is. His…determination is…impressive, to say the least."

"He can't use me to kill him. Draco would never fall for that," she said, eyes meeting his.

Teddy stared at her, face unreadable.

"Are you sure? He's quite…fond of you."

"The keyword here being 'fond'. Draco wouldn't risk his life nor the inheritance of his legacy for me," she assured him.

He didn't reply, and for some reason, that bothered her.

She jumped, startled when the front door slammed shut. It wasn't long before he appeared before them, face as handsome and deathly terrifying as ever. He said nothing to either one of them, simply motioning for her to follow before turning and making his way towards the staircase.

She followed him, mind going a mile a minute. Draco said that her being used to kill him would be a last resort. She still worried, regardless. Or was he leading her to another punishment for Flint's death? Memories of her last 'transgression' plagued her mind, and her breaths became choppy and shallow. Was there another innocent girl waiting for them? A child this time? Her mum?

She followed him into a room that she'd never been in before. It was large with two couches and a chase lounge all surrounding a dark wood table. There was a vintage style bar to her left, a large painting hanging above it with an equally impressive painting on the opposite wall, just above a modest collection of books. Located behind the couches was a set of grand double doors, parted enough so that she could see that through them was a bedroom. His room.

"Why am I here?"

"Sit," was his only reply.

Hermione reluctantly did so, never taking her eyes off of him.

"Tonight, you will accompany me to a little…soiree," he began, a hint of amusement in his voice as he started to pour himself a drink.

"…why?"

"Do I need a reason other than I want you to?"

Hermione didn't reply, face heating up in annoyance.

"It is formal, and since I do not trust you to dress to my standards, I've already taken the liberty of purchasing a dress for you."

Hermione frowned, opening her mouth to say something before thinking better of it.

"I assume you've had it sent to my house…"

"You assume wrong. It's on my bed," he replied, motioning towards the cracked doors.

Hermione's head sharply turned at this, eyeing the black doors with something akin to nervousness.

"Well?"

She glanced at him again before reluctantly standing, and making her way towards his bedroom. It matched his study, black and just as grand. She approached the large king sized bed. Her eyes landed on a black, feathery dress. It was strapless with a slight v-shaped dip in between where her breasts would be, the flowy fabric of the dress coming together to collect in black rivulets at the bottom. It looked like a manifestation of the black swan designed into a dress. She gently reached out to take it into her hands.

She flinched when she felt his chest brush against her back, his hand coming up to place something over the top half of her face. It was a mask. His other hand rested on her arm, guiding her towards a mirror located in the far left corner of his room. He rested his chin on her shoulder as they both gazed at their reflection, goosebumps erupting over her flesh as he trailed his fingers along her collarbone and across her shoulder.

"I do believe that we'll be the best looking pair there," he murmured.

Hermione didn't respond, fingering the feathered black mask, a myriad of dark emotions settling in the pit of her stomach.

"We leave in two hours."

"What, but it's only-?"

"The event is quite…far. It's a ten hour plane ride," he explained.

She spun around to face him, immediately stumbling back at their close proximity. Ten hours?

"Where are we going?"

"You'll find out soon enough," he said, walking back into his study.

"I would rather know, now," she spat, following him.

No sooner had the words escaped her lips, did she find herself clutching her stinging cheek. She glared at him through blurry eyes, anger festering within her chest. He approached her, hands folded behind his back. His dark eyes stared her down, pink lips forming into a sneer.

"You have no power, here. Do well to remember that," he quietly said.

She pursed her lips, swallowing. He reached up to brush his thumb along her bottom lip, a small smirk crawling onto his own.

"Just you wait… I'll have you broken in, in due time."

Hermione took a step back, glowering at him.

"Why haven't you said anything about Flint?" she asked, ignoring his disturbing statement altogether.

He raised an eyebrow.

"What is there to say? The young Malfoy killed him and two of my other men. He's a dead man walking…"

"…I'm the one who shot Flint. He attacked me," she said.

"Through my orders, of course," he nonchalantly replied, sitting down on the couch facing her.

Hermione's eyes widened, a cold feeling washing over her as she reared back in shock.

"What?" she whispered.

He smoothed his dark hair back away from his face.

"I instructed him to. Let's not play with one another anymore, Hermione. I'm no fool. I know that the young Malfoy knows all about our little…arrangement. I imagine that he's trying to help you in whatever way he can, plotting to make sure that your friends are safe, no doubt."

She crossed her arms over her chest at this.

"How did you know that Draco would be there last night?"

Riddle chuckled, and it wasn't a pleasant sound.

"I didn't…" her heart faltered "…but I figured whatever happened, he would go after Flint either way, and I'd have my war. Your boyfriend showing up and killing not just Marcus, but Nick and Damien too was more than I could have ever hoped for."

Hermione glared at him in disgust. His dark eyes latched onto her own, a cruel smirk now fully on display.

"It's quite unfortunate, isn't it?"

"…what?"

"That when it's all said and done, you will be nothing more than collateral damage in a feud that's lasted for generations."

Hermione refused to respond to that, and Riddle laughed.

"There are three young women downstairs waiting to get you ready. I suggest you stop being rude and let them do their job," he threatened.

She glared at him for a few more seconds before stomping out of his study.

Hermione looked up at the majestic castle in awe. Never in her wildest dreams did she ever think she'd set foot in a place like this. She'd read up on the history of many castles in school, and had often had a longing to visit at least one. The Castle of Ravadinovo, near Sozopol, Bulgaria, just thirty-five kilometers south of Burgas was something out of a fairytale. It stood along the Black Sea, and was grand and whimsical and had Hermione completely mesmerized. So much so, that she almost forgot whose company she was in.

"You look ravishing," he whispered, lips brushing against her ear.

She pulled away from him, turning her head to glare at him, narrowing her eyes even further when he began to laugh. She ran her hand down her dress. It's a perfect fit, she thought with disdain. The dress in combination with the mask made her feel like a dark princess, a sinister king by her side.

She wasn't sure how exactly they were able to hold this event at this place. From what she remembered reading, it was nothing more than a tourist attraction, hosting the occasional wedding, but nothing as…intimate and exclusive as this. She'd known that she was in the company of wealth that was far out of her league, but she'd never given much thought to just how far out of her league.

The place was filled with people, all of them dressed as elegantly as her. She had originally thought that Riddle would be the only one not sporting a mask, but she was wrong. About half of the partygoers had forgone a mask, and Hermione suddenly wondered why she was wearing one. As she looked around, she noted that she recognized a lot of the visible faces, people she'd come in contact with while with Draco.

It wasn't long before Riddle got down to business, eyes catching whoever he had been looking for.

"Look alive, love. Your future in-laws come like the wind," he purred.

Hermione almost broke her neck, eyes catching onto pale blond hair…three heads of blond hair. She let out a breathe that she didn't know she was holding, brown and gray clashing as they approached. Riddle's fingers tightened on her waist, and she wondered if he knew that Draco would be present. She could hear Teddy behind her, uncomfortably clearing his throat. She would take that as a no. She felt eyes burning into her, and she focused in on Draco's father.

Lucius Malfoy was an intimidating man, the same height as Draco with a dark aura that rivaled Riddle's. The hushed whispers that she'd been privy to at past events held a grain of truth it seemed; Lucius Malfoy was a handsome man. His hard features would do well to make anyone falter in his presence, his long, straight blond hair adding an extravagant flair to his appearance. She could see a bit of Draco in his face, but Draco was much prettier, something he'd inherited from his mother.

The statuesque woman stood in between the two, hair long and bright and curled to perfection around her soft features. She was slim with skin equally as fair as Draco's, blue eyes icy. They looked her up and down with something akin to curiosity, wonder as to what the appeal was to cause such a fuss about, no doubt.

"Mr. Riddle," her clear, cold voice was the first to greet the man on Hermione's arm.

They exchanged shallow pleasantries followed by small talk, and Hermione wondered who would be the first to cut the bullshit. She didn't have to wonder for long.

"As…enjoyable as this is, I would prefer to extend our conversation to somewhere more private," Draco spat.

"Draco," his mother admonished, but his eyes never left Hermione once.

A chuckle came from beside her, and Hermione tensed as his fingers traced circles into her dress. Riddle extended his hand.

"I follow your lead, Mr. Malfoy…"

Draco's father threw him a scathing look before turning away, his family, and Riddle and Hermione in tow. She could hear footsteps behind them, signaling that Teddy and a few of Riddle's guards would be accompanying them. They passed unsuspecting partygoers as they made their way to what Hermione eventually discovered was a wine cellar. The descent was dark, the sound of their footsteps on the stairs seeming to echo in her ears.

There was an area in the center of the cellar that held a moderate sized table, ancient looking chairs surrounding it. She lingered in the background as Riddle and Mr. Malfoy took their seats at opposite ends of the table. Mrs. Malfoy and Teddy sat down as well, Draco preferring to stand.

"This…target that you've put onto my son's head is absurd," Mr. Malfoy spat, wasting no time.

"How so? He killed three of my men. I have every right to kill him where he stands," Riddle drawled.

Hermione tensed, wringing her hands together.

"One of your own men attacked Hermione. You should be kissing my feet," Draco sneered.

"Watch your tone, boy," Riddle calmly threatened.

"Mind your tongue, Draco. All of this senseless nonsense over some insignificant twit!" Hermione frowned, offended. "What is it that you want, Riddle? Money? More drugs? More girls? Name your price and you can have them all…"

"I want your son's head," was Riddle's only reply.

"He was defending the young Ms. Granger's honor. She works for you, does she not? Surely that must count for something," he proposed.

"It doesn't. It was an internal matter that didn't involve your son."

Both Draco and his father fumed, for different reasons, of course.

"I was the one who shot him first. He was dead the moment I pulled the trigger," Hermione spoke up.

Several pairs of eyes landed on her, and Hermione avoided Draco's gaze, staring Riddle down instead. A smile, not a smirk, crept over his face, and he extended his hand towards her. She glanced at Draco, but found that his deathly gaze was set on Riddle.

"Hermione, dear…"

She glared at him, reluctantly walking forward and taking his hand. Heat rushed to her face as she was forced to settle herself on the arm of his chair, one hand clasping onto her waist, the other bringing her own up to brush against his lips.

"While that may be true, Draco delivered the killing blow. Besides, even if I were to accept that…technicality, am I expected to ignore the fact that two other men are dead? By his hand?"

"You couldn't have cared less about any of them," Draco quietly said, an edge swimming in his tone as he kept his heated gaze firmly on Riddle.

"That is beside the point. It's a matter of principle…"

"Draco regrets his rash actions-."

"No, he doesn't," Riddle interrupted. "In fact, I happen to know that given the chance, he would do it all over again."

Mr. Malfoy scoffed.

"My son is a lot of things, but foolish is not one of them. I assure you, that isn't true."

"I assure you, it is."

"How do you figure that?"

Riddle chuckled, pressing his lips against the inside of Hermione's wrist, eyes trained on Draco.

"…because he fancies himself in love with her."

Hermione's head snapped up, eyes wide as they met Draco's. He briefly closed his eyes before glancing down, ignoring his father's intense gaze. Hermione ignored the eyes burning into her skin, because her stomach felt like someone had punched her head on.

"So that's it then? Nothing can sway this ridiculous decision of yours?"

"Afraid not, Mr. Malfoy…"

There was a brief tense silence, one in which everyone wracked their brains as to what would come next. Hermione looked up, catching Mr. Malfoy's eye as he glared at her, preparing to stand. Before she realized what was happening, Draco lifted his leg, kicking the table into a vertical position just as a shot rang out. She gasped when a bullet flew through the wood and straight past her, too close to be a coincidence as Teddy grabbed her hand.

The light in the cellar was shot out, and her grip tightened around Teddy's hand as he pulled them up the stairs. She could hear more gunshots and commotion behind them as she followed him into the gardens.

"We have to get to the car," he panted.

"Did Mr. Malfoy just try to-?"

"I think it's safe to say that he doesn't approve," Teddy spat, weaving through the shrubbery.

They both yelped when a figure stumbled into their path, a figure with short blond hair.

"Oh my God," Hermione breathed, running towards him.

The right sleeve of his shirt was steadily darkening with blood, yet he wrapped his uninjured arm around her, anyway. She wrapped her arm around his neck, breathing him in.

"We need to get you out of here," she frantically whispered.

"No. We are doing nothing. We…," Teddy pointed to himself and her "…have to go."

"Teddy, he's bleeding!"

"Yeah, and there's a good chance we'll be bleeding right along with him if we don't move it," he yelled.

"Nott's right, Hermione. You both need to go," Draco agreed, pulling away.

"But-."

"My arm got grazed, is all. It's nothing. You need to get out of here," he whispered, resting his forehead against her. "I just wanted to make sure that you're alright."

"She's fine," Teddy snapped impatiently.

Draco threw him a scornful look over her shoulder before brushing his lips against her cheek.

"You look beautiful. Go…"

She reluctantly let Teddy lead her away, brown and gray never breaking their hold until she was forced into the car.

If you're curious about the dress, just google Jenny Humphrey cotillion dress. Let me know what you think!