Hello! A rather short chapter, but I know that up until this point you all have gotten glimpses of the violence and mafia mentality that's been instilled in Draco, but it really jumps out in this chapter, so I do apologize if his actions makes anyone uncomfortable.

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Warning: Extreme violence

I sense there's something in the wind

It feels like tragedy's at hand

And though I'd like to stand by him

Can't shake this feeling that I have

-Sally's Song, The Nightmare Before Christmas

The next day, in the early hours of the morning, Hermione found herself sitting in the foyer of Tom Riddle's mansion. The hectic events of the previous night still clung to her, quite literally. She longed to get out of the grandiose dress that she'd been forced to wear, feeling like she would suffocate at any moment. Per Riddle's orders, Teddy had gotten her into a car and onto a plane back to London as quickly as possible. Riddle and the rest of the entourage was apparently not far behind and would be arriving at any moment.

Teddy hadn't stopped pacing since they'd arrived, and Hermione looked up at him in exasperation from where she sat on the floor.

"If anyone should be about ready to jump out of their skin, it should be me," she sighed.

She ignored the scathing look that he threw her way.

"Don't be so dramatic," he scoffed. "Your lover will be just fine."

She could've sworn she heard him mumble something along the lines of 'It was hardly a scratch'. She fought the urge to sigh, too emotionally exhausted to even do that, mind flitting back to Draco. There was no doubt in her mind that he would be alright, but she wanted to see him, nonetheless. She told herself that it was purely because she wanted to see how well he was with her own two eyes, but she knew that wasn't the complete truth.

Riddle had to have been lying…right? Sure, Draco exhibited behavior that suggested a fondness for her, but they had discussed it before, and she thought that it was just that; Draco simply growing attached. Attached and love were two very different words with two vastly different meanings, and the meanings behind the latter scared her. She needed to speak to Draco.

"Surely you aren't believing that crock of shit, right?"

She glanced up, pulled from her reverie to find Teddy looking down at her.

"…what?"

"I've told you countless times that you're an open book. You're thinking about what Riddle said…about Malfoy…"

Hermione looked away, squaring her shoulders.

"So what if I am?"

"You're smarter than that. Draco doesn't give a rat's ass about you. Otherwise, you wouldn't be in this mess," he said.

Hermione turned to look at him, offended. A cigarette was placed between his lips now, hands coming up to light it.

"I don't believe that," she retorted, face pinched in anger.

"Then he really has fucked you stupid, huh?"

"Hey!" she yelled in a mixture of shock and hurt, standing up.

Before either one of them could get another word in, the front door opened, the sound of several pairs of footsteps making their way inside. Teddy looked away from her, turning to face Riddle as he made himself known. She glared at her dark-haired friend, ignoring Riddle altogether.

"Leave us," he said to Teddy without sparing the blue-eyed boy a glance.

Teddy did as instructed, and Hermione looked down, the sting of his words still lingering as the sound of his footsteps grew distant. The atmosphere was tense as she refused to even acknowledge his presence.

"What part of be seen, but not heard was somehow unclear?"

Hermione didn't respond, knowing that nothing good would come out if she did.

"I do believe that I'm talking to you. Surely, your parents raised you better than that…"

Hermione swung her head to glare at him.

"Don't you dare speak of my parents. I know what you did…how you ruined them, ruined us! I am here because of you," she spat.

Riddle smirked, amusement dancing along his lips as he regarded her.

"No, Hermione. You are here because your father is a foolish man who wasn't satisfied with the moderate wealth he already had. Greed and foolhardiness is never a good combination-."

"My father is a great man who wanted to provide more for his family, and you knew that. You took advantage of him. You don't deserve to even think about him," she hissed. "Draco says that men like you will always get what's coming to them."

"He would know, wouldn't he?"

Hermione swallowed down the pang in her chest, briefly closing her eyes before letting out a soft, humorless chuckle.

"Fuck you," she whispered.

"Excuse me?"

"I said fuck-."

Hermione grunted as her back was shoved into the nearby table, the lamp hitting the floor with a loud shatter. She dug her nails into his arm, eyes watering at the constricting pressure around her neck. His nose brushed against hers, and Hermione kicked at his legs.

"One of these days, I just might take you up on that offer."

"You'll be dead before you ever get the chance," she gasped.

He grinned, a menacing expression on his face as he raked his eyes over her.

"Who's going to stop me? Your boyfriend? He barely escaped with his life, last night. I'm not worried about him," he whispered.

"You should be. You should be worried about the both of us," she struggled to get the words out, vision beginning to swim.

Riddle flung her to the floor with a high pitched chuckle. Hermione coughed as she fought to stand, only to be kicked into another nearby table. She gasped, hands going to her stomach as she fought to breathe.

"You're so…cute. You think your little love story is going to have a happy ending. I'd marvel at your optimism if it wasn't so fucking nauseating," he began, circling her like a shark.

Hermione reached up to grip the table, pulling herself up while her other hand clutched her stomach. Her breaths were shallow as she struggled to stand, and with a snarl, Riddle gripped her hair, ripping the curly tresses out of their updo as he dragged her towards the grand piano located in the far right corner of the room.

She winced when her back harshly met the surface. Riddle settled himself in between her legs, fingers digging into her throat, an amusing smile on his lips.

"You think he can kill me?" he whispered, lips a hair's width away from her own, shaking her neck.

Hermione couldn't talk, even if she wanted to. She shoved her hand in his face, digging her nails into his skin, and he responded by backhanding her so hard she saw stars.

"You think he's going to kill me, and then the two of you will run off into the sunset? What are you going to do, be the next Lady Malfoy? Stand by his side as he carries on the legacy that comes with his name?"

Tears leaked out of her eyes from both his hand around her throat and his words. When they killed Riddle, and they would, what then? Sleeping with Draco was one thing, but could she really bind herself to him, stand by him?

Riddle hummed, trailing a finger along her cheek and lips.

"You're with him because he wanted to fuck you…," he sweetly began, yanking her up.

Her feet flailed as he held her above him by her neck, eyes focusing on the ceiling. He loosened his grip just enough for her to wheeze, taking in mouthfuls of air at a rapid rate.

"…and when his looks and charm alone didn't work, he threw his millions at you. He presented you with an offer that he knew you couldn't refuse. He took advantage of your situation to get what he wanted, flaunting you around for his enemies and God himself to see. You think he didn't know about the possible danger he was putting you in? Do you think he cared?"

Hermione gasped, clawing at his hands, her vision going in and out.

"He didn't care, because he had you wrapped around his cock every other night, and that was all that mattered."

He lowered her frame, her feet brushing against the floor now. She dug her nails into the skin of his neck, protesting when he brushed his lips against her own, barely enough to feel like a whisper.

"There's something wrong with your love story, baby…"

Hermione harshly landed on the floor, crying out as she landed on her shoulder. Her vision was fuzzy, and her chest heaved as she took in painful gulps of air, reaching up to clutch her throbbing shoulder.

"It's pathetic. You continue to defy me and provoke me and look at me like a monster when you are here because he was thinking with that other head of his," his taunting voice followed her as she forced herself away from him and to her feet.

She made her way towards the door. She didn't want to hear another word.

"Where are you going, Hermione?"

She turned to glare at him, one hand on the wall as she held herself up, the other still gripping her stomach. His arms were crossed over his chest, sporting a feral grin.

"We're not finished…"

"I work for you, that is all. That was our agreement. I do what you say, and you don't hurt my friends," she tearfully said. "I don't have to listen to this bullshit."

She turned away from him, just barely gripping the door handle when the glass window next to the door shattered. She clenched her jaw, hand tightening as he approached her. He rested his shoulder against the door, gun in hand as he regarded her. She kept her gaze forward, a shudder traveling down her spine when brushed her hair off of her shoulder with the barrel of his gun, the cold weapon grazing her skin.

"Enjoy your time with him while it lasts, because I have every intention of putting every bullet I own into him."

She turned to look at him, eyes hard and blazing and he chuckled.

"Do you think you can do something about that? You can't."

He stepped closer, so much so that she could feel his body heat. He rested his fingers underneath her chin and tilted her head up, dark eyes boring into her own with an unfamiliar look that made her heart race.

"I own you, love. As long as I have the figurative axe hanging over your friends' heads, there is not a thing you can do to defy me. If I tell you to rob some poor old woman on the street, you will. If I tell you to get on your knees and blow me, you will. If I tell you to slit Draco Malfoy's throat in his sleep…you will."

Her heart jumped in her chest, the idea of that last request making her ill. He stepped away from her, a small smile on his lips, mirth dancing in his eyes.

"Run along…"

She yanked the door open, stumbling down the steps in her tall heels and long dress, vision blurry. She hadn't driven there, and she didn't really want to talk to Teddy at the moment. Her mind was a jumbled mess, and it didn't occur to her just how far Draco's house was from Riddle's, but she didn't care. She'd just barely stepped foot off of the long driveway and onto the pavement of the road when the tears fell all over again.

She didn't know how long she had been walking, but her feet hurt and her dress was soaked. At some point, it had started to rain, and she shivered, certain she might die of hypothermia soon. She was so angry and hurt when she left, so foolish that she didn't even grab her purse and phone. All she had was the ghastly shoes on her feet and the dress on her back. There was definitely going to be blisters when she made it back…if she ever made it back. It didn't occur to her until recently that it was very early in the morning, still dark with the moon still visible. She could be kidnapped or murdered…

She clutched her stomach again, reminded of the flaring pain there that definitely suggested something serious about her injury. Four weeks… In four weeks her friends would be safe, and she could finally go after Riddle…but four weeks was a long time. A lot could happen in four weeks and Riddle killing Draco was definitely on the list. A fresh wave of tears hit her as she recalled his words.

He's right, you know. Draco just wanted to fuck you, and now you're walking the streets of England in the rain…injured and distraught, her mind whispered. That wasn't the case anymore, though. Things changed… Draco cared for her, now, and she him. She didn't know if she cared for him as strongly as Riddle suggested Draco did her, but… The thought of him dying, of him no longer existing, made her stomach churn.

A car was approaching her from the opposite side, the headlights forcing her to narrow her eyes, hand covering her face. They started to slow down before eventually coming to a stop. Hermione hurried to kick her shoes off, bending down, with difficulty, to pick them up. She staggered back as the driver's side door opened, prepared to use her heels as weapons when a familiar figure stepped out. She exhaled, dropping her shoes in shock before stumbling towards him.

"Blaise," she breathed, relief washing over her as she practically collapsed into his arms.

The raindrops mixed with the tears on her face as she wrapped her arms around him.

"Are you okay?"

She didn't answer, resting her chin against his shoulder. Now that the adrenaline was no longer pumping, the pain in her stomach hit her like a truck. Her face felt like it was on fire, and her throat felt like she had a noose around it.

"Hey…hey," Blaise said, gently pushing her away.

His hand gripped her shoulder, and she hissed, flinching away from him. Their only source of light was the headlights from his car, and she could see his eyes widening before raking over her.

"You're hurt," he deduced, a hint of worry in his voice.

"H-how did you…how did you find me?" she choked out, gripping her dress.

Blaise yanked his coat off before wrapping it around her shivering frame and walking her towards his car.

"Theo called me. He was…worried," he answered, pushing her into the passenger seat.

She wrapped his coat tighter around her, leaning her head against the window as soon as he closed the door.

"I didn't…" she swallowed "…I didn't realize that you two were on speaking terms again."

"We're not."

Hermione didn't respond. Her body sagged with exhaustion, all of the adrenaline now officially gone, and it was only seconds before the soft purr of his car lulled her to sleep.

"I don't care!"

"Draco…think about this for just a minute, okay?"

"I did…and I don't care…"

Hermione's sense of hearing was the first to return, followed by touch and smell. She recognized the smell that clung to the sheets of a bed so much more familiar to her now than her own. She didn't know what time it was, but she figured enough time had passed for the section of her brain that registered pain to finally catch up to her body. She felt like she'd been hit by a freight train.

She took note of her raging headache first, the equivalent of a hummingbird going haywire inside of her skull. Her throat was aching, clearly the result of Riddle's hands around it. Her feet was aching as well, and she groaned, realizing that that was no one's fault but her own. Her shoulder, face, and stomach was the worst of it from what she could feel. She slowly reached up to touch her cheek, only to hiss.

She focused in on the voices outside in the hall.

"You're upset-."

"I'm not upset, Blaise. I'm furious. You saw her face when you brought her here. Yes or no?"

There was a short silence before Blaise answered in the affirmative.

"Does she or does she not have blunt trauma to her stomach?"

"…she does."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't there noticeable bruising on her shoulder and neck?"

Hermione reached up to brush her fingers over her neck, wincing.

"You're not…wrong," Blaise sighed.

"Good. So my retaliation is justified then?"

She'd only heard this kind of edge in his voice a few other times, and it never failed to unnerve her.

"Draco-."

"You all will go in there, and you will open fire on anyone you see…," he quietly stated, a grave determination dripping from his words.

Blaise didn't reply, so Draco continued.

"Every worker of his, every dancer, every prostitute, even the fucking doorman… You do not let one person come out of that club alive."

Hermione fought to sit up, his words making her heart race.

"What if…" Blaise lowered his voice "…what if Theo's there?"

"Is he supposed to be special just because you two swallowed each other's cum on and off for two years or…?"

"If it wasn't for him, I never would have found her last night. At least, not before something bad could've happened," Blaise pleaded.

"…and I suppose if he wasn't such a spineless coward he could've prevented her from being hurt in the first place. Funny how life works, isn't it?"

No more was said, and seconds later her eyes were connecting with his. A look of relief fell over his face as he hurried towards her, brushing her hair away from her face as he sat down.

"Draco-."

She cut herself off, wincing at the sound of her voice, hoarse and fading.

"I was worried that you might've had a concussion. The physician didn't know how long it would be before you woke up…"

"Draco," she choked out. "W-what were you talking about, just now? Who-."

"It's nothing important," he dismissed.

She gripped his shirt, looking at him with hard eyes.

"Please, tell me that you aren't going to kill a club full of innocent people," she quietly pleaded.

Draco reached up to gently grab her hand, loosening her hold as he stared her down.

"They're hardly innocent. They work for him, it's full of his clients," he explained, standing up.

"Draco, please," she begged, hanging onto his shirt.

He jerked away from her, angrily reaching behind him to grab the mirror on the nightstand before shoving it in her face.

"Look at your face!"

Hermione blinked at her reflection, eyes watering at the sight of her purple and swollen face before focusing in on the dark hand shaped bruises on her neck. She knocked the mirror out of his hand, looking away from him.

"They didn't do this…"

"He wanted this. This is what he wanted, remember? This is why he ordered Flint to attack you," he hissed.

She turned to look at him, eyes wide.

"Oh, yes. I know…"

"Don't do this," she tried again, watching in vain as he walked towards the door.

He ignored her protests, making his way out.

"Draco, please!"

"He wanted a war, Hermione, so a war is exactly what he's going to get."

Let me know what you think!