Chapter Six

~Draco~

Draco woke up early Sunday morning, the bare skin of a woman pressed against his chest. For a bitter second he thought of Hermione, and then remembered that she had never left her bedroom. He instead woke up to the scrunched up face of Pansy Parkinson. Her arm was thrown around his neck and her ankles twisted around his. Her warm breath tickled his neck and Draco seriously considered letting her stay. It was almost 6 am, breakfast wasn't until another two hours. Hermione may not even come down for breakfast. Hell, he could probably even get another round out of her.

Her large dark eyes opened as he began to shift away from her. She grinned and wound her legs around his, closing the distance between them.

"You have to go now," he began to stand up, pushing her away from him.

"What no breakfast?" She teased, pushing herself up with her elbows so the sheets ever-so-innocently fell and uncovered her chest. Draco, however, refused to be distracted.

"Not today Pansy," he grunted, "I have work to do."

"Can I come back tomorrow?" Draco thought about it for a second.

"Maybe."

~Hermione~

Hermione had spent the rest of the day in her room, curled into a ball on her bed. Knob came and went with food and kind words, but Hermione ignored it all. Shortly after 7 she heard Draco barking and pounding at her door, yet Hermione didn't even have the strength to tell him to go away. That night she fell asleep crying, her hair plastered to her tear stained face. She cried for Ron who no longer had a faithful fiancé to smother his face in kisses and stroke his coppery hair. She cried for her unborn son who would grow up without his father to teach him Quidditch. She even cried for little Knob who was so kind and also was a prisoner of the Malfoy Manor. However, she did not cry for herself because she had made the decision to come. That night Hermione decided that she would never cry in front of Draco Malfoy again. All thoughts of Ron would be tucked into the far corners of her mind, only to be released on lonely and quiet nights.

"Miss Granger?" Hermione's eyelids fluttered open at the squeaky voice of Knob who was perched at the edge of the bed.

"Miss Granger, breakfast is in 30 minutes. I've set out your things for you," Knob pointed to a frilly pale blue dress that she had hung up on a vanity, matched with a simple pair of white ballerina flats.

"Thanks Knob," she sat up out of bed and stretched, "And I told you to call me Hermione." Knob only nodded happily before helping Hermione out of her bed things and into her dress. She began to run her fingers through Hermione's dark curls and began to French braid them down her back.

"So how is Draco?" The question was a hesitant one, yet Hermione was curious. She had fallen asleep last night thinking about his searing kiss and fingers on her wrists.

"Sore," Knob answered before beginning so slam her head over and over into the vanity, "Bad Knob! Bad Knob!"

"Knob, stop!" Hermione's tone surprised her. It wasn't a plea, it was an order, "He's not your master anymore. You can talk about him however you wish." Knob quivered, debating quickly on what to say.

"He drank too much last night. Squeak was up all day refilling his glass. Probably downed the whole bottle," Knob winced at her own words before continuing, "Late last night Miss Parkinson came to visit. He had me let her out early this morning." Pansy. He had slept with Pansy when she was only a few doors down.

"Thank you Knob, now can you please show me where I'll be eating breakfast?"

~Draco~

Waking up for the second time, Draco's head was pounding. He vaguely remembered last night at all. He remembered trying to break Granger's door down and when that proved impossible he simply downed more firewhiskey. How the hell could he get her between his sheets when he couldn't even get her out of that damned bedroom? Pansy came to visit him at around ten, wearing nothing but her underwear under her cloak. As soon as he was finished with her and she was asleep in his bed he downed more firewhiskey.

Now

his

head

was

splitting.

"Master Draco!" Squeak chirped from the other side of his door, "Time for breakfast!" Hermione. Draco dragged himself out of bed and pulled on crisp white dress shirt and some black dress pants. Sunday breakfast was a big deal in the Malfoy Manor.

"Draco, stop fiddling with you food," Lucius spat underneath his breath. It was yet another Sunday morning and Draco was wholly and utterly bored. There were other children in the manor, kids his own age. They were given their own table at the back of the Manor near the kitchen where they would terrorize the house elves and burp and fart at the breakfast table. Draco however, was a little man and was expected to sit with the grownups, smashed between his mother and father. Politicians and other famous people were invited each Sunday for breakfast at the Malfoy Manor. The guests changed each week, but they always brought their children. Occasionally Draco would be able to sneak away early and spy on them, but those occurrences were rare. So instead, Draco spent his time at the table angering his father by occasionally flinging bits of scrambled eggs across the table. Narcissa would laugh it off with the rests of the guests, but Lucius would be turning colors under his fine silvery hair. Draco would pay dearly for his misbehavior, mostly likely with the Cruciatus. Lucius wouldn't dare lay a finger on him with the guests present, so Draco continued to try his luck.

He picked up a scrap of bacon and "accidently" flung it so it landed in the Minister's breakfast casserole. The Minister laughed and congratulated Lucius on his "little tyke", but Lucius was busy fingering his wand, thinking of different ways to punish Draco.

After the last guest left, Lucius turned to his son and hit him in full on the face so that he was sent reeling backwards.

"You. Will. Never. Act. Out. Like. That. Again," Each of Lucius' words were punctuated with another punch, another kick.

He grabbed his wand out of his robes and bellowed, "Crucio!"

Draco cried out for his mother, his screams piercing the hair. His voice soon became hoarse and ragged, yet he still continued to cry out as another Cruciatus hit him square in the chest. He writhed on the floor, bleeding and screaming. Blood and screams. Blood and screams. The world grew dimmer, yet the pain remained present until Draco's world became dark.

Draco arrived at breakfast before Hermione, and for a moment he wondered if she would continue to lock herself in her bedroom. Then he heard her, quietly walking down the stairs. She walked in slowly, her posture a bit stiffer, her eyes a bit darker. Her light, flowing dress suited her old self, but not this darker, quieter version. She sat down, avoiding his eyes and chewing on the insides of her cheeks.

"Had a nice night did you?" Her voice was cold, it was harsh. It cut Draco down to the bleeding core. It rammed its way into his head, causing it to split even further. He watched her grip her fork and noticed that she was still wearing her engagement ring. Draco wanted to pounce on top of her and rip the ring from her fingers. He wanted to cut off the ringer that had even held the ring in the first place. He wanted her to pay dearly for eve considering wearing the ring of another man at his breakfast table.

"It was fine," Draco, however, did none of these things. He pulled the paper off of a blueberry muffin and set it down neatly on his plate.

"Are you sure about that?" Her words were bitter fighting words, she stared at him with such fire, such anger.

"Granger," He snapped irritably, "I don't know what you're going on about so if you could please just shut up and have mercy on my pounding head that would be perfect."

"Oh, so we're back on last name basis are we," she sneered, standing up, "I guess that's ok then after what I say to you. You won't let me go see my fiancé, the man that I adore. You wouldn't even give me the chance to say goodbye. I will never see him again, but that doesn't matter to you anyway. Does it? Because you are allowed to have your personal slut stay the night. I heard all about you and Parkinson. Did you really think that I wouldn't find out? I was just down the hall from you! You had sex with another woman with me in so close proximity! What happens when we get married Malfoy? What then? Are you still going to sneak her up into your room late at night? I'm not going to let you treat me like your personal whore. I didn't come here to be another one of your sex toys Draco Malfoy. I came here to save the man that I love. You're an insufferable bastard. I hate you Draco Malfoy. I hate you so much."

Draco blinked, then returned his focus to Hermione who had walked to his side of the table and was standing over him. Underneath the shield that she had put up, he could see the hurt. They were supposed to be engaged for God's sakes. Maybe he would go out to town and buy her something nice. When Pansy was angry with him he would simply buy her some new clothes and the next thing he knew she was snogging him senseless. Yes, he would get her something really special. She would smile at him, forgive him. She would become the happy Mrs. Malfoy and crawl into his arms at night. That was the reason that she was here. Despite the large part of him that wanted to kill her and finally shut her up, there was also a smart of him that knew he would never be able to lay a finger on him again.

"I have to go," he stood up quickly and disapparated from her view before she had the time to object.

AN: So my chapters are steadily getting slightly longer (: How do you guys feel about Hermione's feelings towards Draco? Do you think that she should be thankful for him giving her a place to live and making sure Ron was being taken care of her? Or do you agree with her and think that it was wrong of him to let Pansy stay the night? Thank you guys so much for your reviews! xoxoxo