A/N--Hey everyone! Sorry for the delay...school is already getting crazy! Haha, here's the next chapter. I apologize in advance if anyone seems OOC....I'm trying VERY hard to keep them in character. It's becoming more difficult, so any advice or critiquing is welcome! Enjoy!!

The Unbreakable Vow

***Emerald Edition***

Disclaimer: I own nothing. It's quite sad.

Chapter Five

And in that moment, Draco felt the pieces start to fall together. Suddenly, it was clear why he had accepted the Unbreakable Bond in the first place. This witch, this filthy, unworthy mudblood was his only chance to escape his destiny. By protecting her, he was defying fate and openly questioning his own destiny. A loyal Death Eater, protecting a mudblood? Could the two truths exist? He had to know if his life was as inexorable as he was raised to believe. As much as he despised her, he needed her.

Granger was his salvation

He looked back towards Blaise who was waiting for a response before turning to face his home. With narrowed eyes and a firm nod, he finally answered his friend.

"I'm ready."

Draco glared at Pansy Parkinson with unreserved irritation, running a hand through his surprisingly disheveled hair. His friend was pacing the floor of the study anxiously, her already unpleasant features twisted into an unattractive scowl. Her dark eyes were shining impatiently as she threw him another dirty look.

"This is lunacy," she whispered vehemently.

"Look, Pansy," Blaise spoke out, obviously growing frustrated with her reaction as well. "He didn't have a choice in the matter; it was either the vow or his life. Would you rather Draco be dead?"

At those words, the smaller witch stopped suddenly, turning to them with an incredulous look on her face before responding sharply, "Of course not."

"Then just let it go," Draco said darkly. "You two are my most trusted allies; I just thought you should know the task at hand and the consequences should I fail."

Blaise and Pansy stared at him solemnly before nodding simultaneously.

"I have to go," he said passively. "My father is waiting for me; we're going to see the mudblood."

Pansy's expression darkened, but Blaise offered a small grin.

"We'll pay our visits after your father has his chance."

Draco nodded before turning away from his friends and exiting the study. He slid out the door and met his father near the staircase. The man with pale blonde hair and disturbingly cold eyes said nothing as his son arrived, simply turned and walked up the stairs to the main hall of the second flood.

The former Slytherin followed the older wizard, a strange mix of emotions clouding his thoughts as he stared at the taller wizard from behind. It seemed impossible that this man was his father; he had done nothing but push Draco towards the Dark Lord his entire life. Every single word spoken between the two, every action that took place was done with only one objective in mind. It had been a cold and miserable childhood for him, and a defiant smirk began to form on his face.

Seems you don't control me like you thought you did, Father, he thought callously.

They stopped outside a tall wooden door, before his father turned to him, a look of calm superiority written clearly in his features. They stared at each other a long moment before the older wizard finally spoke.

"I expect you to handle your task efficiently, Draco," he said frostily. "I won't have you making a mockery of the family name."

Draco bit back a bitter retort and simply nodded before he entered the room.

Granger was standing by the bookshelf, absorbed in a large tome. He immediately masked his amusement as her eyes found his abruptly. A spark flickered ominously in them as she tossed the book on the lush bed before stepping towards him angrily.

He was not surprised when she suddenly froze, a flicker of fear crossing her features before her look of determination returned. Draco's father had that affect a chilling effect on people, and he was undeniably pleased to see her fight the urge to be afraid.

Draco regarded her carefully, inspecting for damage he had missed in the first round of healing. She seemed to be standing firm on her ankle and her face was beginning to regain a bit of color. He couldn't help but be mildly impressed with his own talent when he noticed that the cut on her lip had left no scar. Her hair was still a tangled mess and behind her careful façade, her eyes were still haunted, but she was better than she had been.

And she's alive, he reminded himself with an internal sigh of relief.

"So this is the filth you have let enter our house."

Draco did not respond to his father's words and forced an air of nonchalance when Granger's furious gaze turned to him.

"Filth?" she said, the venom in her voice catching him off-guard. He let out a deep breath when her attention turned back to his father. "You call me the filth, and yet, you are the one murdering innocent witches and wizards and even muggles who—"

"Shut your foul mouth," his father exclaimed lividly. "Deprimo!"

Draco watched as the young witch collapsed to her knees, her arms barely able to catch her before she smacked her head on the floor. This was a spell he was vaguely familiar with. He had seen the Dark Lord use it against his prisoners before he killed them; it had been a way to prove his power and break their spirit completely before ending their lives. Granger was fighting it valiantly, but he could see the spell quickly overtaking her.

With a short 'crack' and a muffled cry, she fell completely, her head resting dangerously close to his father's feet.

"This is where things like you belong," the older wizard said darkly. "Kneeling before your superiors."

Draco heard a snarl of disagreement from Granger as she struggled to her feet. The anger that reflected in her eyes nearly washing out the hues of pain that Draco saw; if he had to guess, he would assume her shoulder had been dislocated.

"You have quite a commendable spirit," his father continued. "It's quite a shame that your blood is spoiled; between your courage and your intelligence, you would have made a powerful Death Eater."

An icy chill shot through Draco at the idea of the Gryfindor being a Death Eater for the Dark Lord. For a moment his mind flashed back to when she had mercilessly ended one of her friend's life and the agony he had seen in her face. She could never be a Death Eater.

She could never be a murderer.

His father stepped towards her purposefully, and again Draco found himself impressed with her courage as she stared up at the older wizard resolutely.

"It will be such a joy to watch Draco break you," he whispered darkly. Draco felt his breath get caught in his throat as a hand slid up to her face. He watched as his father's fingers grew tangled in her hair as she tried to jerk away from him.

"Soon," his father mumbled, "you'll learn how foul you truly are and you'll be begging for forgiveness for the sin that runs in your blood."

He turned and began to walk towards the door, but Draco could not look away from the prisoner; her eyes were faltering slightly, tears budding in the corners. He half-expected her to start crying again, but Granger proved him wrong, surprising him with vocabulary he didn't know she had.

"You bastard."

The silence that followed her voice was deafening and Draco didn't know whether to be proud of her accusation of chastise her for it. Of course, it was true; his father was quite the bastard, but no one had ever had the gumption to say it to his face.

Especially not a mudblood.

"What did you call me?"

Draco heard the dangerous tone of his father's voice and interrupted Granger before she could do any more damage to the situation.

"Allow me to deal with her, Father."

Granger shot him a withering glance, but Draco was too concerned with his father's response

"As you wish, Draco," he finally answered, allowing Draco to give a small sigh of relief. "The Dark Lord entrusted this wretched girl to you, so I will allow you to punish her as you see fit."

As he left the room, Draco turned his attention back to Granger, his own anger suddenly surfacing. It was becoming increasingly more difficult to protect the troublesome witch, and he was growing tired of her lack of cooperation. Taking a small step forward, he was rewarded with a flinch from the girl. He couldn't decide if he liked the fact that she was afraid of him.

"Do you want to live," he asked quietly, "or not?"

She glared at him in return but said nothing; all traces of vulnerability were gone.

"I asked you a question," he muttered threateningly, stepping towards her again. She did not flinch this time, simply stared at him through defiant brown eyes. Her strength of character was one of her greatest flaws, he admitted with a slight smirk.

"Well," he continued, "I don't care if you want to live or not."

He crossed the room in two long strides, grasping her shoulders tightly, attempting to make his point. However, he caught the grimace on her face and felt her left shoulder tense beneath his hand. He glanced down at it before meeting her gaze. She was staring up at him, a torrent of emotions darkening her expression. He drew away from her gently, before aiming his wand.

Whispering a minor healing spell, he watched her face suddenly fill peace, a soft sigh escaping her lips involuntarily. When he lifted the spell, she glared at him, but it was obvious it was more out of misunderstanding than anger.

His own eyes narrowed in response.

She doesn't need to understand anything, Draco thought coldly before turning away from her and crossing the room. He waved his wand sharply and flames grew from the ashes in the fireplace as he collapsed on the chair, letting his head fall into his hands heavily.

The impossible nature of what he was attempting hovered above him ominously; even if he managed to keep her alive through the next few weeks, the chances of the Order rising against the Dark Lord and finding success were very slim now that Potter was dead. And the thought of keeping Granger as his unwilling prisoner for the rest of his life was most unwelcoming.

There was simply no easy answer.

He heard shuffling feet and he glanced up to see Granger staring at him, her eyes considerably softer than they had been earlier. Her brows were knitted together with concern and Draco realized that her concern was directed at him.

"Why are you doing this?"

Her voice cut through him almost painfully. The edge was certainly still there, but beneath it he could hear the tremor of uncertainty.

It will be easier if she doesn't know, he thought, shaking his head and returning it to his hands.

He was rewarded with a low growl.

"What's going on Malfoy," she said, the venom sliding back into her voice. "Why don't you just kill me and save everyone the trouble."

His body moved of its own accord and suddenly he was standing in front of her, biting back the words that were screaming in his head. How dare she make such a claim? The whole situation was becoming unbearably frustrating and it was only when he noticed she was trembling slightly that he was able to rein his anger back into control.

She doesn't understand, he reminded himself as a short knock on the door startled the both of them.

He crossed the room and turned the handle, unsurprised to find Blaise and Pansy waiting outside.

"Come to see the mudblood," Blaise said, his voice light.

He stepped in quickly, a wide smirk planted firmly on his face as he made his way towards Granger. Draco followed his movements as he stepped in front of the young witch and took her hand in his own gingerly.

"A pleasure to meet you," he said, the almost alluring tone of his voice making Draco's eyes darken. "You're quite lovely for a mudblood, Granger."

"Blaise," Draco said coldly. He wasn't sure why he was so offended by his words, but was pleased when the warning was heeded as his friend stepped away from the Gryffindor and slipped next to Draco with a small grin.

"Yes, Blaise, don't patronize the filthy girl," Pansy said, stepping into the room, her expression staring at Granger with unadulterated loathing.

"Parkinson," Granger said, her voice painfully polite.

"Granger," Pansy responded bitterly.

Draco stared at his prisoner for a long moment as an unsettling silence fell over the room. He had suspected some animosity between the two young women, but the look in her eyes was a clear warning that he had underestimated their past history.

"These are the only people you can trust," he began as Granger's eyes shot back towards him. "Everyone else in this manor is a threat to you, Granger. Do you understand?"

The sympathy from earlier was washed away by her sudden look of furious disbelief. Her eyes were blazing once again as she took a resolute step in his direction.

"No," she said, the venom in her voice fell like acid against his ears. "I do not understand. Why did you bring me here? Why am I still alive, Malfoy? Why?"

"It's complicated," he returned simply, his brow furrowed.

"No it's not!" she spat back at him. Out of the corner of his eyes, Draco saw Pansy and Blaise both flinch at the tone of Granger, but before he could give it a second thought, she was continuing. "I demand to know why you're doing this. I have a right to know."

A right to know?

Draco's eyes narrowed at her. A right to know that his life depended on her safety? That he had betrayed his family and closest friends like a coward and was now in a twisted situation that revolved around her? He stared at her angrily, trying to ignore the confusion that had managed to mingle with the contempt in her eyes.

She was trying desperately to hide it, but the proud Gryffindor was scared.

Draco scoffed.

He had agreed to keep her alive; he had never agreed to care about her.

"You don't have any rights, you filthy mudblood," he said cruelly.

Suddenly, she was on him, her arms swinging with blind wrath. Her fist connected with his face, and he immediately tasted the blood that escaped his lip. This was something he hadn't expected. No girl had ever physically attacked him, and he wasn't sure how to react. Draco certainly wouldn't strike her back; despite all the violence he had witnessed in his life, his up-bringing was too old-fashioned to ever consider hitting a woman.

And in his uncertainty, he simply accepted it for what it was and waited until she was pulled away by Blaise.

He glanced up at his friend who was staring at him incredulously, his arms wrapped around Granger tightly. Draco didn't have to look at Pansy to feel the anger that radiated from where she was standing.

"Let her go, Blaise. She doesn't know any better," he finally said softly, the shock of her attack still evident in his voice.

Had he really expected the infamous Hermione Granger to go down without a fight? It wasn't enough that he had saved her and was protecting her from death; she had to know why. Her constant need for understanding irritated him beyond anything he could ever remember in his life.

Granger wasn't in control; he was.

Blaise released her reluctantly and she stepped towards him, Draco half expecting her to launch herself at him again.

"Doesn't know any better?" she said, the rage in her voice painfully obvious. "You're a poor excuse for a wizard, Draco Malfoy."

"Granger—" he began, unsure of where his statement was leading; the sound of his name on her tongue was both refreshing and agonizing.

"You're no better than your father!"

And in a split second, Draco was a completely different person. His eyes froze in an impossible glare, his thoughts racing. Memories of some of the most indescribable horrors filled his thoughts: the sobs of children as they mourned their murdered parents, the tormented screams of the innocent who had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. The cruelness of his father was like nothing Draco had ever experienced, and the idea of being compared to him was physically painful.

He glanced back up at Granger who stared at him resolutely.

But then, Lucius Malfoy would never make an Unbreakable Vow with a sworn enemy to protect a filthy mudblood. It was just one more thing to prove that Granger's words were far from the truth; even if she didn't realize it, the ignorant witch was living proof that Draco was not his father.

He had to believe that it was true.

Draco met her gaze for a short moment, before finally responding to her vicious claim.

"You're wrong."

He said not another word before storming through the door without a single glance behind.

So....let me know what you think :)