Chapter 4: Dissemblance

Dissemblance: To disguise or conceal one's real nature, motives, or feelings behind a false appearance.

Shit! Why couldn't Draco keep in control of his temper? Everything about this muggle bitch just pushed him over the edge! It was ridiculous how easy he lost control of the infamous Malfoy Mask whenever she opened up the black hole she calls a mouth. Yes, Draco knew what a Black Hole was. Astronomy was after all one of their key courses.

He punched the wall again, just below where he had before, right after Hermione had feinted. He knew her shoulder was broken. The bones were probably shattered, could not be fixed with a simple spell. Maybe if Madame Pomfrey had a go at it and used a half bottle of Skel-a-grow it could be good as new, but Draco wasn't about to let her go to Madame Pomfrey.

How was he supposed to explain breaking her shoulder that bad with just the pressure of his hand? Even if he did come up with a reasonable excuse he knew that Dumbledore would be suspicious of him. He had a job to do, assigned to him by the Dark Lord, and he couldn't do it with that old fool breathing down his neck all the time.

Draco reluctantly picked the mudblood up and carried her away from his body like she was some smelly, vile piece of trash. He dropped her on the couch and flinched when she yelped. Not because the noise bothered him but he was terrified that she would wake up before he was able to cover up his stupid mistake.

Draco knew what he had to do but he really, really didn't want to do it. If the Dark Lord ever found out…. if Lucius ever found out… He shuddered and looked back at the mudblood determined to do what he had to. He was not going to go through that all over again just because she was an annoying whore. He strode over and sat down beside her. Ugh, he could feel all her nasty mudblood germs infest him from being this close. He was going to have to bathe until his skin was raw.

Draco sighed, taking in a deep breath, before he raised his arms to his lips. He made a small cut with his incisor and then lowered his wrist towards her mouth. He said, in a voice that was steel with authority and soothing and sensual like silk, commanding her to drink. Her mouth opened and he placed his wrist above her mouth and watched as the first drop of blood welling out of the cut landed on her lips.

It took but a second but then she was latched onto his arm, sucking on the small cut, every nerve in her body acutely tied to how much more she could get of that sweet substance. Draco couldn't help but to moan as his blood was taken from him and he felt his own thirst growing and growing, his mouth felt to full and he became fascinated with the rapidly pumping blood flowing through her neck. It was right there, in front of his face, it would be so easy for just a small taste.

"No!" He pulled himself back from where he had been, centimeters from her neck, and he quickly snapped his jaw shut, biting his tongue in the process. Blood filled his mouth and he looked back at her, still attached to his wrist like it was the elixir of life.

"NO!" This time he screamed it and he pulled himself away, tearing his wrist form her grasp. He would not sink as low as to taste mudblood. Never would he ever be that desperate. He licked the wound on his wrist, not even bothering to watch it heal itself up, and he walked forward towards Hermione. So far she was out of it; he probably had about ten minutes until she woke up. It was time to set the stage.

He quickly moved her to the bottom of the stairs, moved her arms to cover her face and her legs to her chest. He took one of her school books from her room and put it beside her and then lay the others out in a uneven line down the stairs. He then sat waiting at the top of the stairs for her to weak up. He heard a moan and then he set off down the stairs, trying to be slow and look normal.

"Granger? You done killing yourself?"

"What? Malfoy! W-what happened?" She looked around confused, at the books along the stairs and at the one beside her then she rubbed her shoulder tenderly. I knew it wasn't broken anymore but I still flinched as she went up to touch it. You never know when blood magic could go wrong in a mudblood.

"You fell down the stairs. It was actually quite amusing watching you fall, similar to Longbottom trying to fly a broomstick. Movements were actually almost identical. Makes one wonder where you two went to practice such things. He smirked down at her, using his height for what it was for: Showing superiority over those who were lesser. He sniffed in disdain, offering her a hand like it was a gift, which it was. Of course she always had to be difficult so she yelled in outrage scrambling to a vertical position on her own, and somehow, with her clothes all rumpled and her hair a mess she managed to pull off a blood chilling glare.

"You punched my door."

"To prove a point, Granger."

"You held me inches from the ground and broke my shoulder."

"Oh really? Your shoulder looks fine to me. The way I remembered it I punched your door and you ran down the stairs and tripped." I knew it was flimsy, since she and I both knew she didn't have the common sense to run, after all, she was a Gryffindor.

"Bu-but…" I finally caught her amber eyes with my own, trapping her in my gaze, as I spoke to her in the most power laced voice I could muster.

"You ran and fell down the stairs, Granger." When I said her name I thought she was going to collapse or something. Her heart rate had increased exponentially and her chest heaved as she tried to bring in more air. Might I add the fact that she was still clad in her pajamas. Overall it was not a bad sight, if you excluded the fact that she was of course a mudblood, so therefore untouchable.

I looked away and she snapped out of it. She looked confused for a second and then shook her head, disgust crossing her face for a moment. I wish I could just crack into her brain right now, see what she was thinking. I was an academic man after all and was curious about what affects my coercion of the mind would have on her. But there was already too much of a chance taken today and I did not need to add to it by getting caught in her head. She would probably just reverse it on me and then I would really be screwed.

I waited with baited breath until finally she turned around, her cheeks red, and picked up the books on the stairs and floor going back into her room, hopefully changing into school clothes. Draco went and sat down on the couch and took a deep breath. Damn, it still smelled like her and his blood he snatched one of the pillows off of the sofa with a growl and pressed it into his face.

He drew in her scent and moaned, his head rolling back on his shoulders. He knew what the consequences would be after sharing his blood with hers… Well he knew what would happen in theory. As long as he didn't touch hers things would be fine. He took another deep breath and sighed, knowing that this was as close as he was going to ever get. Doesn't matter though, one way or the other the mudblood was his. He couldn't wait to see the result of their next little fight.

"What will the poor mudblood do when she's told to shut her trap and actually does it?" He laughed as he saw the image of her immediately stopping in the middle of her tirade, simply because he asked. Poor Granger would be so confused. He grinned evilly at the thought. Oh the fun we will have, the mudblood and I.