This is not proofread, sorry bros and hoes.

The dark mark had continued to prickle his pale skin for about a week and a half, four times in eleven days , each time, a stronger wave of pain washing over him than the last one he had just experienced. Luckily for Draco, Hermione was not around during these horrendous episodes— one thing he was absolutely glad about, was McGonagall replacing him with her for her special detours to Diagon Alley, she was gone most of the times when the pain overtook him. It had been only once that Hermione was still in their dorm and he had felt the searing burn shoot up his left forearm, somehow, he had managed to stifle his screams from inside his room by pressing his face into the pillowcase, just so Hermione didn't hear them and got upset from her own bedroom right across his own.

It was after all, Christmas break. Hermione had opted to stay back instead of going off to her Muggle home, Draco knew it was because of her parents, she had erased their memories before the war to protect them. After the Order of the Phoenix had conquered Wizarding lands in all their glory, she had failed to return them their memories.

The only thing Hermione Granger had failed at.

It was sad, to live without knowing about your own child, it was even sadder to not have a home to return to but it was the saddest to pretend that you were okay.

That was Granger, all rough and tough on the outside but a complete emotional roller-coaster on the inside.

Sometimes, he heard her crying during fortnights, alone in her room and refusing any company for the rest of the night. She merely curled into a ball on her bed and sobbed haphazardly. Draco wished there was something he could do for her— he wanted to give her privacy. The phenomenon of grieving for your loved one was something everyone had the right to, in their own different way. He was never good with words, from an early age, he had struggled to voice his thoughts. It all seemed so clear in his head but the moment he tried to open his mouth, ready to let the words flow, a knot formed in his throat, as if constricting him to not only speak but also breathe. Draco remembered several times when he had stood in front of the mirror in his room, watching his tongue roll and his lips part— trying his utter best to form a coherent sentence in his mind and letting it out of his mouth felt like the hardest thing to do to the little boy. It had never been his forte; talking about feelings, whether they be his or someone else's. The same case was here, he couldn't talk to Hermione about her grief because he himself had undergone a significant amount of trauma and stress himself during his earlier days.

He imagined her small frame curled into a ball on her sheets, her shoulders shaking violently as she cried herself to sleep, the salty tears that rolled down her cheeks.

All he could do was, however, sit with his back facing her door and wait for the crying to stop, for her to take a deep breath and give into her demons for the day. Sometimes, it lasted hours, sometimes only a handful amount of minutes until she sighed and went back to sleep. That would be his cue to dust off his clothes as he stood up and disappearing into his room.

Not before muttering a soft "goodnight" at the wooden door.

He hoped that someday he would be able to conquer his own demons before helping her with her own, that he could tell her that it was all fine and the he was here, despite of everything, he was here.

And that he wasn't going to leave her.

A terrible pain brought him out of little dilemma, somehow he managed to grip his sheets tightly as he waited for it to fade away. Seconds turned into minutes and it felt like at some point, hours too, until the burn finally left him for good.

This time, he had noticed that the terrible mark branded onto his skin glowed a dark black light for a millisecond before retreating.

What the hell was that?

Draco often found himself questioning, his body had visibly weekend— every now and then, he lifted his shirt to inspect the remains of it; there were light purple bruises dusting his pale skin right under his ribcage, followed by some around his collarbone.

Draco's scars reminded him of the horrible person he had been before the war. They served as a constant reminder of his betrayal to the school which had been nothing but a second home to him and people, who had, at some point, trusted him and befriended him, maybe if it had been for their own reasons even. A long scar was etched onto his body from his hip bone to the blade of his shoulder and another right across his chest as a result of Potter's sectumsempra in sixth year in the boys' lavatory. Upon further inspection, he noted deep gashes, now healed but still scarred, from his time at the Manor— when the Dark Lord had prepared him to withstand torture and abuse. He had been told that it would make him tolerant of the curses he would be thrown at during the war, he had been told that it will make him strong and pain-resistant.

Nobody told him it would leave a permanent bruise on his heart and soul.

Now wiser than before, Draco couldn't help but think that it was not a mean to make him strong but for the Dark Lord to torture his little useless pawn for fun.

A crucio was no joke, sadly, he was too naive to understand that back when he had been forced to take the mark.

"This too, shall pass." He looked into the standing mirror before him, everything as clear as day. He didn't know when did Hermione come behind him looping her arms around his waist. He had been too busy in contemplation to notice the female figure lurking behind him. Draco didn't turn around. Instead, he looked at Hermione through the mirror before him. A sharp look in her direction and he saw her big die-like eyes gazing back at his form— her hair was wild but Draco had grown to love it as it was, it was more natural and made her look so beautiful.

And the best part was that she wasn't even aware of it, yet.

"You look beautiful, Granger." And now she was.

Hermione blushed at his words but didn't remove her arms from around him. Her fingers played with the the fibers of his thin grey shirt, grazing her fingernails along his skin. A small smile graced her lips. Draco saw her stand on her tiptoes and press a kiss just below his earlobe from behind. She moved her lips skilfully down to the side of his neck and then, took their time nipping at his collarbone, giving him crimson love-bites on his pale skin, marking her way on his body. "You look so beautiful Granger." he repeated, closing his eyes for a moment only to reopen them seconds later, a familiar fire blazing in his eyes.

Lust.

It happened like lightning— he whisked her around a complete 180 degree so she came face to face with him. Before her mind could conjure up a single coherent thought he had already pinned her to the bed, the mattress dipping at the weight of the two bodies pressed together atop. Hermione voiced a throaty moan when Draco bit down her bottom lip, he sucked the skin in between his teeth leaving little to nothing to one's imagination when it came to ecstasy and madness. One hand held her arms up above whilst the other worked its way under her shirt, leaving gentle marks as he teased his nails against her smootv flesh. The Slytherin grazed a single finger on her navel earning a sharp inhale from her side— it was only then that instead of going up north to her chest, he smirked down at her.

Upon seeing Hermione in shorts, he had in mind to take full advantage of the situation.

His dark gaze flickered over to the beautiful witch under him. Bending down, Draco pressed an open mouth kiss to her skin before biting down her bottom lip again. Hermione's expression was a mixture of confusion and exhilaration, she didn't know what was Draco doing with those expert fingers of his but she liked the way they performed a waltz against her skin.

"My, my, my, don't you look excited?" he murmured in a low husky voice in, his lips touching her earshell. He hadn't let her hands go, somehow, that only made Hermione's heart pound even faster. She didn't dare say anything, only letting the cool December air hit her face, hoping that it would sooth down all the nerves she had bundled inside of her, ticking like a time bomb, ready to explode any minute now.

Draco began tracing circles on the skin of her inner thigh, his fingers danced their way across her smooth skin in a resplendent motion, earning a low grunt of approval from the witch tangled with his limbs. As his fingers cascaded up towards her abdoben, nearer and nearer, inch by inch— Hermione tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled his face down, meeting him halfway for a charismatic kiss, lips covers lips, tongue coaxing tongue, it was then that Draco realized that his feelings for Hermione Granger weren't a mere crush anymore, it was etching slowly but surely, towards something much more longer term.

The pad of his thumb skimmed her skin at the thighs, eliciting goosebumps on her skin. Hermione's three back her head as she certainly parted her lips with the pale boy before her. Her eyes fluttered close in ecstasy when she felt Draco rub his thumb's pad smoothly over her lower abdomen. It was maddening, to think that she would feel this way by none other than Draco Malfoy himself, her arch nemesis, her bully, her tormentor for seven years, now— she knew that he was a changed person, maybe not fully but he was getting there.

After all, it took years and years to unlearn all the things you were told to be sorry about.

"Hermione, we should—" His words pulled her out of her reverie, his skillful fingers stopping at her waist. "I should stop," While his mind told him to take her then and there, his heart knew that it wasn't how he had imagined their first explicit moment to be like, he had given it a lot of thought and this didn't even come near that.

Hermione frowned slightly as his fingers slid up her waist but then shook her head. It was for the best, she told herself. Neither of them was ready for such a big thing yet, and that was okay. She didn't want to rush into anything too much that won't only leave her embarrassed but may even take Draco away from her.

The thought of losing him terrified her. It made her sick to her stomach. That day when she had walked in on him lying on the ground and clutching his chest with eyes screwed shut— a wave of panic and dread had washed over her like a tsunami, nearly knocking her off of her feet.

It made her terrified as hell but the more she denied it, the more it haunted her mind.

She was falling in love with Draco Malfoy.

No I'm not, she told herself, unaware of a pair of slate great eyes watching her contemplating.

Yes you are, denial is the first stage of acceptance after all. Her subconscious had picked the wrong time to speak to her— Draco was right beside her, absent-mindedly playing with her toffee curls, twirling them in between his fingers and pressing them to his lips. It was oddly comforting, not to mention, would've been borderline creepy if she didn't feel the same way about him.

Just accept it, you're falling in love with him, why is it so hard for you to accept the truth? She glanced to her right, seeing Draco with a sly smile on his lips, he looked breathtaking, Hermione confirmed. His hair had grown an inch or so longer over the time, falling into his eyes like a golden waterfall, sleek and shiny. She ran her fingers through his hair and pushed them away, only to find herself gazing into his slate grey eyes, she loved the beautiful color of them— never had she ever seen such a mesmerizing color in her life. His eyes were the single most important part of him that fascinated her the most.

Everyone had green, blue or brown eyes— never had she seen clear steel grey eyes as Draco's.

"No, I am not!" Hermione all but shouted suddenly sitting up. One glance at Draco and she was glad that she didn't say the word. It was only when she felt a tug on wrist that she calmed down and feel back on the bed, her curls sprawling all over the place in one fluid motion.

"Sorry about that." she glanced at Draco who had arched an eyebrow at her.

"What was all that about?" Draco's voice was confused. Hermione sighed and kissed his lips softly, an attempt to sooth herself. She bent her head over, slightly slumping against his chest as her fingers latched onto his shirt, holding herself.

"Nothing," she dismissed.

She shifted a little closer to him. "I've been meaning to ask you something." she looked shy, or so said her eyes that looked everywhere except for him.

"Shoot," he made a finger guns and Hermione looked at him disapprovingly. If she wanted to say something about that, she didn't.

"Do you still feel the burn? From the Kiss cam?" at those words, Draco touched two fingers to his lips, thinking.

While Hermione fawned over how sexy the mere gesture looked, Draco asked himself, do I feel it? To be honest, he hadn't thought of the kiss cam much since Granger and him had started kissing more than usual— and not just to keep the pain at bay.

"Well, do you?" she asked again, her eyes confused.

Draco tucked a single stand of hair behind her ear, "No, I don't. Not anymore."

It was then, that Hermione threw her arms around his neck, burning her face in the crook of his neck. He didn't know why she did it but he didn't question it.

"I don't feel it either, it has been a long time since it happened after all." she muttered into his neck.

"Why did you stop doing that?" she mentioned to his earlier actions on her skin, surprising them both with that question. Hermione's eyes slightly widened while Draco's lips twitched into a grin. He tucked a start curl behind her ear.

"Whatever you're talking about, dear girlfriend." he drawled, sarcasm laced to his icy voice. Hermione's cheeks flushed pink at the name he had used for her. While she had said yes to being exclusive lovers on his part that day, the physical reality was still something new to get used to. It had been the first time he had called her that, sarcastic or not, it was the first time. It only dawned upon her then that Draco Malfoy, indeed was her exclusive boyfriend.

Oh how the tables had turned.

"I mean why did you stop— oh my god, please don't make me say it." a furious blush covered her face. She covered her flaming cheeks with her hands which made Draco sputter a laugh. Curling his lips in a grin, he carefully removed her hands from her face, opening them like a pair of closed French doors to a balcony and pressing his lips to hers. It was unlike all the kisses they had shared before; it wasn't fervent or fierce, it was slow and sensual. Their tongues never met, only lips moving against lips. Open mouth kisses were pressed to her cheeks as Draco clasped her hands in his, then her button nose, her closed eyes, her chin and then, down the column of her throat.

Hermione let out a content sigh.

"Tell me what you're thinking." She wasn't expecting him to say that, but then again, everything about him was always unexpected.

Instead of beating around the bush, she decided to answer him, "What aren't you telling me?" by now, she was in his lap, both legs starling either sides of his waste. She roll the liberty to lace her fingers through his. "About whatever happened to you that day?"

Draco's body immediately stiffened. This didn't go unnoticed by the Gryffindor. If anything, it just confirmed her suspicions about something being very wrong. "Nothing at all," Draco was calm and collected the very next moment as if he hadn't just frozen mere seconds ago. "I'm not hiding anything from you, I have no reason to." His words were comforting to hear but at the same time, oddly unsatisfying. If it weren't for his calm expression, Hermione's would've called him a liar then and there.

Her brown eyes narrowed at him. "Are you sure? I heard you screaming some days ago I—" she stopped, realised her mistake and immediately screwed her eyes shut. She bit down on her bottom lip as if trying to suppress a scolding to her own self.

She hadn't meant to pry into his business, it was an honest mistake, she told herself.

But deep down, she knew that she was worried and was actually checking up on him, making sure that he was okay.

"When?" his voice was hard and he wasn't meeting her eyes.

Hermione's heart sank.

"Uh, the day before yesterday, I'm sorry." she automatically told him, eyeing his hand lying next to her. Her heart told her to lace her fingers through his but a sensible part of her told her to give him some time to absorb what she had told him.

"Draco?" she gulped inaudibly, "Say something?" she made a show of holding his hand but the moment she did, he stood up.

"I'm alright," His colour went paler than usual, Hermione noted. Looking down at his knuckles, clench fists displaying white all around. "It's alright," He spoke softly after a minute's pause. He looked down at her sitting figure on the bed and let out a content sigh. He bent down on his knees, loosing the top button of his shirt just to let some air in, it was getting oddly hot inside the room— or was it just him?

"Are you mad at me?"

He regarded her with an expression she couldn't quite put a finger on. "No."

Hermione decided not to push it. Maybe another time, but not now.

"You know I'll be here to listen if you want to talk, right?" Hermione's smile made his heart clench. It only made him feel even shittier considering that he was lying staright to her face.

You're not fine, nor are you ever going to tell her about it.

"Yes, I know." he said timidlyband let out a heavy sigh. Running a hand through his hair, he said his next words. "But I want you to promise me something, Grang— Hermione."

Hermione's eyes softened. "Yes?" she ran a soothing finger down the side of his face, her fingernails grazing his blanched skin, it was momentary relief.

With a sudden movement, he pinned her arms to his chest, encircling her wrists in his hands.

"The next time you hear me scream, just walk away. You don't deserve to hear those horrible sounds." Draco muttered, gazing into her confused eyes. "Besides, it's only fair that I hear my own screams after what you went through at the Manor and I didn't do anything to prevent it. It serves me right for the torture I put you through."

Whatever Hermionebwas expecting him to say, surely wasn't that. Her eyes watered for a fraction of a second before she wiped them at the corners. "I—"

"And don't you dare tell me it wasn't my fault because it fucking was. Maybe I didn't fancy you back then—" Hermione let her shock show, her eyes widening even more, "But it was still very cowardly and inhumane of me to do so,"

A deafening pause, and then.

"You fancy me?" she couldn't help but make an attempt to lighten the mood.

"Was that all you got from it?" Draco scoffed at her. As if to prove his point, he leaned forward and pressed a hard kiss to her lips. "Wouldn't have done that if I didn't fancy you Granger, now, would I?" His gaze was terrifying but at the same time, so hot. "Or this," As on cue, he leaned forward again but instead of kissing her, he harshly shoved his hands up her loose shirt, groping her breasts, he had come to realise that she was more Tha okay with that thought. Hermione's eyes were ready to pop out of their sockets any moment now, she let out a low moan. "Or this?" he asked almost teasingly, his fingers playing with the clasp of her bra, fidgeting with the hook on purpose— his fingers went down to her breasts, to her waist and then down to her lower abdomen, he rubbed his thumb across her clothed skin, enjoying the way she reacted so repulsive at the mere motion.

He pulled his hand away, looking at the girl before him with a mixture of lust and affection.

Pressing one last kiss to her lips, he pulled back just a little to brush his lips against hers whilst still looking at her in the eyes. "Do you see now, Granger?"

Hermione couldn't even speak. Her throat had been tied in a thick knot.

"Because surely, friends don't know how you taste, Hermione." Eager to prove himself, he kissed her again, an unfamiliar frenzy shuddered through her body as she pulled the boy before her even closer, she pulled his shirt above his head in one graceful stride that even made Draco shocked.

"Hermione, I don't think we—" Draco was talking but Hermione was already on top of him, she pulled her own shirt over her head, leaving her in a nude bra, the only thing on her body waist above was a simple chain dangling from her neck, a silver crescent for a pendant.

"Oh don't be such a pussy," she giggled at her own words and then at Draco, who was regarding her with clear shock, presumably at her choice of words. "Relax, nothing else comes off and nothing else comes on." she didn't know who this version of her was but she quite liked it, it wasn't her usual careful self, she was rather bold and carefree now, maybe if it was for even a few hours.

"Who are you and what have you done to my girlfriend, you evil witch?" Draco faked shock and Hermione grinned down at his pale figure.

"Oh and by the way," she paused mere inches away from his lips, "It's not your fault you were the nephew to a crazy woman who just escaped Azkaban, you did what you had to." she smiled dryly at him, "Besides, I'm a strong girl, which reminds me, I'm not going any easy on you just because you're a little blond princess." It was evident she was trying to lighten the mood and maybe, just maybe, that's exactly what the both wanted right now.

"Are you just going to talk or are you going to kiss me?" He played along, knowing that if not today, maybe some other, he had to tell her, or someome about what was happening to him, ignorance was indeed a bliss, even if only momentary.

Hermione dipped her head, capturing his lips with her own— hoping that one day, she would be able to crack down his walls and let him see her for what she truly was.

A friend to the soul, and a lover to the heart.

_

I hope you don't think that all they ever do is snog because eh, that's not about it ALL. I leave clues, are you smart enough to pick them up? ;) drop in a theory as to what do you think is going on with Draco.

On the other hand, hey, love you all, thanks for all the support and reviews, never thought I'd get this far and get this much support— love you all very dearly.

Drop a vote if you liked it and a review