Erstwhile on TUB:

"Now you can 'not be disappointed'," he instructed and Hermione let out a breathy laugh, turning to face him once more.

"How..."

"Lucky guess," Draco teased, making Hermione smile. She sighed then, and kissed him for the first time.

"Thank you," she said, paused a moment, then turned over and sat up. Draco frowned as he watched her search out her underwear.

"Where are you going?" he asked, sounding disenchanted. Hermione paused and turned toward him, looking confused.

"My room. I always..." she started, but trailed off. Draco smiled and opened his arms to her. Hermione didn't hesitate to fall into his embrace.

-

Chapter Three: Love Me

Hermione woke the next morning only to relish in the warmth and comfort of the bed she occupied. For a few seconds, it was all she could do to simply lie on her side and enjoy it but then, coherent thought took over. This definitely wasn't her cot. In a morbid bit of hope, she wondered if perhaps Charon had died during sex and she had been left to sleep in his bed.

It wasn't until a weight was placed on the opposite side of the mattress that Hermione ruled out her husband's death. Maybe he'd just fallen asleep and had gotten up to vomit his red wine. Then, however, she was encased in a warm, bulky body that definitely did not belong to Charon. Whomever this stranger was, he crushed his chest to her back and wove an arm around hers, pressing warm lips to the back of her neck.

All at once, she remembered Malfoy. The hairs on the back of Hermione's neck stood on end and she shuddered fiercely. Either Draco thought she was cold, or he simply loved to torture her, as he hugged her closer, fitting their bodies together.

Hermione was suddenly aware of the thin cotton sheets on her bare skin, the clammy sensation of dried sweat on her entire body, and more so than anything, the way his closeness aroused her. Had she a few years less experience in hiding emotion, Hermione probably would have rolled onto her back and begged him to take her again.

However, Hermione was not a teenager anymore. She knew the consequences of her actions all too well. And, with a sharp intake of breath, she tensed, confusing the cornflower blond boy clinching her.

"Hermione?" he whispered, as if cautious of her sleep, and Hermione moved quickly; pulling out of his arms and bringing her knees to her chest. She drew herself as tightly into the corner as she could, using the white cotton sheet to cover herself as she stared at him with sleepless and frightened eyes.

Draco pulled himself onto one arm and stared softly at her, eyebrows crossed. He had left their nest to shower and dress, and come back to find his wife withdrawn, as if someone had scarred her while he was away. She watched him suspiciously, eyes flicking to any body part he flinched, be it foot or finger. After a long pause and no leeway toward conversation, Draco boldly and gently reached a hand toward her. Hermione, however, cowered into her corner, bringing the sheet to her chin.

"What are you going to do?" she wondered aloud, voice weak. Draco frowned deeply, withdrawing his hand a bit.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he promised, reaching out again. Hermione withdrew and started trembling, obviously scared and confused. The reality of last night was just hitting her; what he'd said, what he'd done... everything. It was too much for her fragile being. "I won't even touch you if you wish me not to..." Draco continued, placing a hand on the bed and destroying its potential to harm. Hermione tried to control her breathing, but it was an attempt proved futile.

Draco loomed closer; out of concern or amusement, Hermione could not tell. She drew into the corner as far as she could, then ducked her head below her knees. The closer he came, however, the harder it was to control her trembling. Draco noticed, but he continued his decent until he was sure she could feel him breathing on her neck. Hermione tried to keep up her strength, but unfamiliar and uncomfortable beat out strong, and she broke down, sobbing into the bed linins.

Draco's little frown deepened, and he moved a finger to brush along her cheek. Hermione gasped at the sensation, eyes wide with fear, and turned quickly toward him, resuming her attentive watch. He ran his thumb back the path of his finger and sighed slightly.

"Why do you fear me?" Draco asked in whisper, and Hermione turned back to her knees. With a wry frown, he pressed the bridge of his nose to the side of her face, allayed when she made no further effort to shut him out. "Hermione... I know what you've been through, and I'm sorry. I can't possibly imagine what it's been like for you... please, let me help you. That's all I want..." he continued, placing a kiss just under her jawbone; a place worthy of remembering. Hermione slowly let her guard crumble; she relaxed and slowed her breathing, letting him comfort her. But, as seemed to be common, reality broke through her euphoria.

"No!" she cried, pushing him hard in the chest. Draco was much too heavy for her to move very far, and he merely rolled onto his side. Hermione ignored the tears blurring her movement and grabbed his wrists, jerking his hands to cover her breasts. She opened her egg-like position and laid flat, pressing his palms to her flesh. Draco made no move until Hermione had stopped whatever she was trying to do, allowing him to free his hands. He moved one again to her face, but Hermione shook her head. "No... hurt me, rape me... kill me, if you have to... just don't... don't do it again," she pleaded, and Draco frowned, but made no move to do anything she suggested.

"Don't do what?" he asked gently, brushing fingers through her hair. Hermione kept her eyes glued shut as her chin trembled.

"Don't..." she repeated. "Don't love me. You can take my body, but you'll never have my soul." Draco frowned deeply. He knew now that he had broken her. He'd tried to be so careful and yet she'd still shattered in his grasp.

"Hermione..." he said again, but she shook her head, trying to block him out entirely. "What if... what if I can't help it?" Hermione said nothing, but breathed slowly, as if she willed her heart to stop beating. Draco trailed his finger over her lips and she shuttered, chin trembling once more. "Why can't you trust me?" he asked. Hermione hesitated.

"B-because... you're a man. All you'll do is hurt me," she stuttered. Draco held her face in his hand, gently turning it toward him.

"I thought I showed you last night that I'm not like them..." he said softly, stroking her skin.

"No... the only difference between you and them, is that you really want to hurt me..." she started, voice deadly soft. "You're willing to put in the effort to really cut me... make me love you, and then throw me into the cold. You're worse than all of them put together." Draco was stunned silent for a moment, mouth agape as he listened to her. She was torn farther than he'd originally thought and it was only then that Draco realized. By making love to Hermione, he'd completely screwed himself.

"How can you assume such a thing? I know we've had our differences but honestly, Hermione. This war has changed everyone... some for the better."

"I don't care what's happened to YOU," Hermione said icily and Draco lowered his eyes. He was ashamed; of course she didn't care. She'd been through a thousand times worse. "You're just a man... what can you honestly care about other than sex... and the occasional bit of torture. You're all the same," she continued, voice the heir of spite.

"How can you say that? Listen to yourself... what would anyone say if they heard you?"

"I'd imagine it would depend on who the person listening was... not that anyone would listen to me. A man would disagree and probably kill me, and a woman would be too scared to share her two cents," Hermione whispered, turning her head away from him to stare blankly at nothing. She was determined. There was nothing anyone could say that would change what she thought; especially not some two-timing man. Draco gave a little huff and decided a different approach. Obviously, gentle conversation wasn't getting him anywhere with this girl. In fact, she'd gained confidence. He'd have to play the atomic button. He rolled away from her and sat on the edge of the bed, fastening his cuff links.

"What would Harry say?" he wondered aloud, as if simply speaking to himself. Hermione gasped loudly and sat bolt upright, clutching the sheet to her bosom.

"How dare you..." she started, but was interrupted by Draco, who stood up and turned toward her, walking around the bed and in the direction of the door.

"How dare I what? You're the one making assumptions based on a complete lack of information. I was merely wondering what he'd think of what you've been saying about him. No harm in that, is there?"

"What I've been saying about him? I've never said an unkind word about Harry in my life!" Hermione cried, tears stinging her eyes at, for the first time in years, speaking her best friends' name.

"You're contradicting yourself, Hermione. Did you not just say 'You're just a man... what can you honestly care about other than sex? You're all the same'. I do believe Harry is a member of that category."

"No..." Hermione said briskly, standing to face her husband and wrapping the white cotton sheet tightly around her body. "Not Harry. He would never..."

"And why do you assume different of me?" Draco asked, trying his hardest to keep up the guise and not feel guilty. She looked so small and broken naked and wrapped in a sheet with tears pouring down her cheeks. After a moment, he sighed and brought a hand to her face, brushing away a few tears. Hermione, however, turned away from his grasp. Draco's eyes grew slightly narrow and he dropped his incorrigible hand. "He knows what you've been doing, you know. He knows how you've betrayed him." Hermione's eyes flashed worriedly to the ceiling, and she took a step back, but then narrowed her eyebrows and made eye contact with her husband.

"He wouldn't spite me..." she assured. "He'd understand." Draco's face became impassive and he shrugged.

"Perhaps you're right. I'll ask today and let you know when I return," he said, taking his coat from the hook by the door. Hermione stomped her foot.

"That is anything but funny!" she said coarsely, ignoring the fresh set of tears. Draco turned back and gave a slight nod.

"I didn't intend it to be," he said, as if he had no idea what she was talking about. Hermione gave a high-pitched screech of frustration.

"Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about, Malfoy! Harry's dead! I saw it with my own eyes! How dare you try to tell me otherwise..."

Draco frowned. A real, genuine frown. She thought Harry was dead? No wonder she was acting so touched by his mention. This time, the wave of guilt took him completely under.

"You think Harry's dead?" he asked, and Hermione glared. Draco draped his coat over the hook and took a step toward her. Hermione was too angry to back away. "He's not, Hermione."

"I saw everything, Draco. I will not be brainwashed," she said, standing stiff and rigid, arms clasped across her chest. Draco took her shoulders in his warm hands, steadying her for what she would be told next.

"It's not what you think, Hermione... Dumbledore was prepared. All our little classroom jokes turned out to be truer than we'd thought; he had thought of everything. There was some sort of charm... I'm not clear on the mechanics, but... when he was killed, everyone else was protected. Every person you saw vanish that day, including Harry, was merely apparated out of Hogwarts and placed safely at platform nine and three quarters. The only students who died were those killed by deatheaters, before Voldemort was defeated. Everyone is completely fine," he promised, "Mauriz never knew." Hermione was stunned stiff for a moment. She believed him. The prospect was just so fantastic and his eyes so deeply honest; she wanted to hug him.

"Really?" she asked, voice small, and Draco couldn't help but to grin. He was getting through to her. "Everyone?"

"Would I be here, if not? I was in the great hall too, that day. We had Transfiguration together," Draco said, and Hermione smiled sadly at the memory of such a thing. Transfiguration. It was like a dream. "I can prove it to you..." he said. "We decided to stick together... united against Mauriz, what with no Voldemort to separate us. We live together, all of us... in a six-story farmhouse near Canterbury. I can't take you away just yet... but I can bring someone here. To prove I have good intentions." Hermione's eyes lit up.

"Harry?" she asked hopefully, but Draco's face fell, and he shook his head.

"No... not Harry. Or Ron. It has to be someone inconspicuous, so I can tell them he just wants to have a look around... see if he'd like to join the establishment," Draco said gently, hands firmly placed on her shoulders. Hermione frowned and nodded, eyes on the floor. He gave her half a smile. "Anyone in particular you'd like to see?" She shook her head.

"Anyone from Gryffindor would suit me fine," Hermione said softly. Draco's smile grew and he pretended to sigh.

"Once a Gryffindor, always a Gryffindor..." he muttered, rolling his eyes and releasing her, moving back toward the door. Hermione shifted her makeshift dress to better cover herself, then turned her attention to watching him open the door.

"Draco," she said softly, and his ears perked up, as if surprised to hear her speak his name. Draco turned back and smiled, awaiting her explanation. Hermione, however, simply stepped forward and embraced him, unashamed to be doing so. Draco, of course, reciprocated; glad to have finally made contact with her fragile being. "Thank you, so much," Hermione said, muffled against his chest. "You're really not so horrible anymore." Draco chuckled softly.

"Of course I'm not," he said in defense. "I have the heart of a young boy." Hermione pulled back, lifting an eyebrow at him, and Draco smirked his celebrated smirk. "In a jar... on my desk." She giggled and he grinned, then placed a kiss on her forehead. "I'll be back in maybe two hours. I'll have Sergio bring you some new clothes, so all you have to do is get ready and wait in your room. I'll send them there... no worries about me eavesdropping. Anything else, if you need it, just tell Serge and he'll get it for you." Hermione nodded, and adjusted her sheet again, pulling away from her husband's embrace with a smile. Draco picked up his coat again, and shrugged it on before fully opening the door. Before he left, however, he turned back. "Oh, right... I saved some breakfast for you. No need to eat awful slop they fix in the kitchens. Just over by the hearth, there," he said with a grin, and Hermione blushed at the floor. Draco said nothing and moved not an inch until Hermione peeked up at him through the curtain of hair that blanketed her forehead. Then, he smirked, and kissed her cheek. "Be ready," Draco reminded and disappeared down the hall.

Hermione smiled and shut the door, sighing deeply. She leaned against the frame and let herself slide to the floor, smiling like a fool. She was going to see someone from Hogwarts, one of her friends. There were ten Gryffindor boys in her year and without Harry and Ron, that left eight. Eight possible men she could be meeting from the past. And she'd thought last night's sex was the best thing that could ever happen to her.

This was like the twilight zone.

Hermione, after showering and dressing, sat eagerly in the middle of her bed. Draco wasn't due back for at least an hour, but one could never be too sure; he could arrive early. She had eaten breakfast as instructed; delicious eggs and toast with marmalade. This day couldn't possibly get better. She'd had a wonderful night with a wonderful man who (although suspicious) seemed kind hearted and genuine, then had had a wonderful breakfast, followed by the first bath in ages, complete with shampoo.

Aw, the wonders of shampoo. As a wife, she had gotten used to a hard, brown, glycerin soap bar which lasted a very long time without replacement. It smelled terrible, left her skin and hair dry and tingly, and was all in all not the very best. Oh, but not today. She'd gotten Rosemary shampoo and a big, foamy bar of creamy milk soap. Had it not been for these luxuries, Hermione would have found herself with a considerable amount of extra time. She had not planned to take more than a quarter hour in the bathroom, but exited to find that it was nearly half past the time of her entrance. All in all, however, it was worth it. She felt clean for the first time in ages, and was ready and willing to see anyone who came her way.

Hermione sat nervously on her bed twiddling thumbs and biting her lip when a knock was finally heard at the door. She jumped off her bed, nearly tripping on her way to the door, and threw it open with elation, only to moments later feel disappointment. She frowned deeply, then smiled for the benefit of her guest.

"Hello Sergio," she said softly, remembering that Draco had said something about clothing. The oaf grinned at her and stepped into the room, closing the door behind him.

"Good-day, Miss. Thy master has asked me to deliver these clothes to you, in preparation for your meeting this afternoon."

Hermione grinned widely as he handed over a watered-down, warmer version of her school uniform; a deep red skirt that would reach the tops of her knees, a long-sleeved black turtleneck, and a pair of shiny black pumps. Hermione nearly leapt out and hugged her deliverer.

"This is wonderful. Thank you," she squealed and immediately draped the clothing over her ruffled bedspread to view. After a moment or so, she pounced on them, pulling the skirt on over her shorts. Sergio turned completely around, as if nervous to be seeing a married woman dress.

"My pleasure, Miss. I'll just be going back to my quarters..."

"Oh, no..." Hermione said, sounding sad. "Stay until they return... please? I'm going absolutely nutters here by myself." Unable to say no to his mistress, Sergio gave a sharp nod toward the door.

"Of course, Miss."

"Good, good," she said, clapping, then hurriedly dressed. Had Sergio turned around, he would not have seen anything; she put her skirt on before taking off her shorts, then slipped the turtleneck over her t-shirt without bothering to take it off. It was cold. Then, slipping her shoes on, she sighed and sat on the bed. "You can come sit down, you know," she said, giggling. "It must be quite a bore to simply stare at the wall."

"Yes, Miss," Sergio said, hoping that she'd finished dressing before requesting him. When he turned, Hermione shook her head.

"You don't have to, of course. I was merely suggesting," she said softly, but Sergio simply followed her instructions and sat beside her on the bed.

"Anything you wish of me, Miss," he insisted. Although Hermione was internally overjoyed at this role reversal, Sergio had never been anything but kind to her. She didn't want to be the baron; she wanted to be the peacemaker. With a sigh, she pretended this didn't bother her and searched her mind for a topic to discuss.

"Do you know where Draco got these clothes? They're..." she started, but Sergio straightened and his eyes turned cold.

"You must call thy master 'Master' when not in his quarters, Miss, for if anyone were to overhear you speak his true name, it would surely be the death of him," he reprimanded, and Hermione watched with wide eyes. A moment later, Sergio's air of darkness dissolved and he became friendly once more. "I apologize, Miss." Hermione quickly shook her head.

"No, no... it's alright," she said, placing a hand on his arm. "Thank you."

"Of course, Miss," Sergio said and, before there could be an awkward silence, continued speaking. "I sent my wife to do your shopping, Miss. It seemed the only logical way to go about it." Hermione frowned and pulled her hand away at this remark.

"You're married?"

"Yes, Miss," he answered, but provided no further information. Hermione looked let down; she had thought so highly of Sergio.

"How many?" she asked softly, eyes focused away from his face. Sergio looked unexpectedly confused.

"How many what, Miss?"

"How many wives do you have?" she clarified, and the oafish man chuckled.

"Well, one, of course. She's very pretty, about your size... I love her very much," he said, removing his sunglasses and staring dazedly off into space. Hermione perked up at this confession.

"So, it's not like here?" she asked. "You really love her?"

"Of course it's not like here... I'm here to help thy master. And of course I love my wife; why would I have married her otherwise?" he asked, and Hermione smiled. Partially from his naivety toward the world, and partly from his disregard of the word 'Miss'. He was becoming comfortable, just as she'd hoped.

"Do you have children?" she asked, and Sergio looked elated.

"Yes, Miss. Two boys..." he said, and fished in his back pocket for his money case. She watched with a smile as he proudly flipped open the flap and showed her two pictures. "That's my oldest, Eliot, and that there is little Luca. He's only about two."

"They're beautiful, Sergio; look an awful lot like you," she praised, and he blushed, flipping the page.

"This is my wife, Adora. As I said, she chose your clothes."

"You'll have to thank her for me; they're perfect," Hermione said, smiling as he pocketed his precious pictures.

"Of course, Miss."

Hermione and her company lapsed into a small bit of silence. She stared at the floor for a few minutes, while Sergio simply darted his eyes around the room as if he'd never seen it before. Then, Hermione sighed and gave a smile, returning her attention to the conversation. She didn't like the silence; there was nothing awkward or nerve wracking about it, she simply did not like it. When it was quiet, she was left to think; thinking was not always good. Especially when it came to thinking about Draco and her surprise visitor.

"Sergio?" she said, turning her eyes upward. Her bodyguard brought his attention to his mistress and grinned.

"Yes, Miss?"

"How long have you known... my master?" she asked softly, intending to get a bit of background on Draco. She almost expected Sergio to grow cold again and tell her not to speak of Master's past, but he simply smiled warmly, as if remembering.

"Oh, a very long time, Miss. Since he was but a wee thing. I was his servant as he grew up, and still am today... though, I don't bathe him anymore," he said, finishing with a lighthearted tone that had Hermione giggling.

"What was he like as a child?"

"Frankly?" Sergio asked, and, when Hermione gave a little nod, he continued. "He was a spoilt brat. His mother left him in my care, and his father would occasionally spend a good hour or two here and there with him. I was more a father to the boy than his own... but, being only ten years younger, I couldn't account for much. It was most certainly his father that put such an evil in him, however. Well, his parents. I was simply there to attend to his every whim... as he grew up, though, thy master gained a bit more knowledge and gave me a little respect. Now, we're almost on equal ground. I don't expect him to stop orders... that would be preposterous. I'm much happier now than when he was small." She nodded along, smiling softly at imagining a five-year-old Draco in the bathtub, doused in soap and reprimanding Sergio for getting shampoo in his ear.

"Well," she said. "If you're here to serve my master, what has become of your family?"

"Oh," Sergio said, frowning a bit. "This is only temporary. We came in yesterday, got settled in and whatnot... then he sent me to fetch you this morning. Thy master only plans to stay for a few weeks... month, at most. We're not here to stay. I had to leave them... but Adora understood. She wasn't happy, of course, but she understood. I miss her already," he said, smiling slightly, and Hermione joined him.

"Why ARE you here... exactly?" she asked, and he looked surprised.

"I was sure thy master had told you..." Sergio started, and Hermione shook her head, although she thought he just might have. "We're here to shut the place down... take down Mauriz. We want to free the women here. This is the last establishment left... we decided to save it for last." At this, she tightened her eyebrows.

"Last establishment? Isn't the rest of the world like this? Or, at the very least, England..."

"No," Sergio said, shaking his head. "Mauriz's ideas spread for a while... but they were contained, once the shock wore off. There were sixteen establishments all together... run by powerful men with great ambition for the cause. It's taken us this long to shut down the other fifteen. It was only logical to save Mauriz for last, as, if he were defeated... word would spread. The other tyrants would gain support from those men evicted... we couldn't risk that."

"Oh," Hermione said, completely speechless; everything she'd been told was a lie. Harry wasn't dead, Draco wasn't evil, Mauriz was alone in his crime raid and, best of all, there was hope. She would make it through this. "But... if my master is here to save us... why has he chosen a wife? Isn't that a bit hypocritical?" Sergio shrugged a shoulder.

"It would look too suspicious to never marry and still live here... so, he chose one wife. Or, rather, sent me to choose one. I just thought you looked interesting... I didn't know you'd met him before."

"I suppose that makes sense..." she granted, piecing things together. Sergio verified everything Draco was saying throughout their conversations and Hermione felt a new wave of hope. He would get her through this. And, after that, there was no telling.

Suddenly, Sergio stood full from the bed, and hurriedly replaced his sunglasses.

"Sergio?" Hermione asked curiously and he turned to her.

"Thy master has returned, Miss. Ready yourself for your visitor. I wish you luck. Good afternoon," he said quickly, then made his way out the door as if it were a sacrilege to be seen in her room. Hermione watched for a moment, flustered, but then realized the impact of his words and jumped to her feet. She hid the dirty pair of shorts under her pillow, then smoothed the covers before sitting back down. She flattened her hair and crossed her ankles, hoping she looked at least mildly presentable.

It wasn't five minutes before another knock was heard at her door.

A/N: Uncensored version can be found at http:tangledupinblue.