Chapter Five

Waking Up

Hermione Granger lay in his arms unconscious.

He tried to push the idea of the dark mark out of his mind, just for now.

He looked around desperately, trying to come up or comprehend some sort of a plan. He knew that, by luck and luck alone, his father was going away for two weeks on an assignment from the Dark Lord, and would not be there when he arrived. His real concern was what to do with her after, and how to keep her from Pansy, who prowled around the Manor as though it was her own home.

He knew she would come to greet him the second he stepped in the door, and his mind raced with ideas of how to overcome this obstacle. Then, an idea hit him like a ton of bricks, and he smirked his legendary smirk, pulling Granger tighter to his chest.

Then, without another word, he evaporated into nothing but air, and had left the once so beautiful grounds of Hogwarts. He landed on his front lawn, overlooking a wide sea of hedges and fountains, statues and rose bushes. A beautiful peacock was strutting feverishly, its colorful feathers fanned outwards.

Draco ducked down low to the grass, once more placing Hermione down softly on the grassy terrain. He looked around for any sign of a house-elf, but could not see a single one. He took a deep breath inwards, placing his fingertips to his lips and letting out a shrill whistle.

Pop.

Draco jumped, as one of the house-elves appeared in front of him almost instantly, bowing low to the ground until its massive ears touched the grass. Draco nodded in respect, and glanced once more back up at the Manor. He had never entirely agreed to be so polite to house-elves, but his mother had always insisted.

"Yes, sire?" The creature squeaked, his round orbs for eyes scanning over Hermione's body, still and silent.

"I must ask of you to do me a large favor, Greep." Said Draco, addressing the creature by its name only because his mother so often had. "Tell me, is my father gone on his assignment?"

"Yes sire, Lucius left just minutes ago, Greep helped him with his luggage."

"Good, good." Draco replied. "I need you to round up as many elves as you can, and take this girl to my room. Make sure she is comfortable, and tend to her wounds as soon as possible. Wash her and clean her, do everything in your power to make her appear human again. I am going to go into the house and try to distract Pansy while you do this."

The creature bowed low once more.

Draco turned and began up the hill towards the Manor.

"Oh, and Greep." He said, turning to look at the house elf. "You must let the others know, not to speak to my father about this, and that is an order."

The creature bowed for a third time, and Draco turned to enter the dark palace he knew as home.

Pansy, the vulture that she was, was sitting at the table in the entrance hall, as though waiting for him to return. She raced over to him when he did, pulling him into a weak embrace. He returned the hold, though not out of enjoyment. He cringed slightly as he did this. The smell of vanilla and lavender wafted into his nostrils, making his head ache and his nose tingle.

"Where have you been Drakie?" She asked, in her baby-tone manner which he hated so. "I've been here waiting for you, wishing you were here."

He found himself raising his eyebrows at these words.

"Pansy, it is not your place to wish I was home." He snarled, though moments later realizing and remembering the task in which he had set out to do. He stared out the open door of the Manor, and saw the house elves, carrying Hermione towards the entrance.

He took a deep breath, reaching out hesitantly and taking Pansy by the cold hand.

She smiled at this, a devilish smile.

"Why don't you touch me the way that you used to, Draco?" She asked softly, placing her hand on his face, making him shiver violently. "Remember, back in school when we used to sneak off at night and shag until we ached."

"Pansy, I slept with half the women at Hogwarts, what makes you think you're so special?"

Damn.

Fucking suck it up Malfoy, you are supposed to be distracting her.

Pansy looked very hurt from these words, and she wretched her hand away.

Draco looked around nervously, trying to think of a plan.

Out of desperation, he moved closer to her, placing both of his hands on her face, staring her dead in her sapphire blue eyes. Her eyes really were beautiful. So, with just the thoughts of her eyes, and Hermione's safety, he pulled Pansy into a kiss.

He made sure to make it soft and sweet, to lure her in.

Pansy moaned loudly against his lips, touching her tongue to his and gripping his shoulders with her fingernails.

Then he pulled away, resisting the temptation to cringe towards her.

He took her hand once more.

"Follow me, I will show you a good time."

She grinned maliciously, following him like a lost puppy, into the living room. Before he could even close the massive double glass doors, she had lunged herself at him, and thrown him to the couch.

He was taken back by this, and threw his hands up in their air as though a gun had been pointed at his nose. She was panting like a sick dog, and smothering him in wet kisses. He snapped out of his state of shock, and went along with it, running his hands down her back, and placing them on her boney hips.

She moaned.

"Oh, Draco, you get me going like there's no tomorrow." She forced her lips onto his hard, her tongue pushing between his lips roughly.

He hadn't even done anything yet and she was already drooling like a mutt. He forced himself to kiss her back, groin pushed between her legs as he rubbed against her body softy.

She pulled away from him, smirking. He took the chance to flip her over, and began to pull off her clothing forcefully. She giggled as he did so, reaching down and undoing the buttons of his robes, revealing his chest. She looked at it, her eyes wide and her mouth open, as though she had never seen it before.

He laughed at this.

He laughed at how irresistible girls found him.

Then, without another word, he had ripped up her skirt, and had propped himself over her, bare skin against hers. Her eyes fell closed at this feeling, and he could feel between her legs pulsating hungrily. He found himself slightly aroused now, even if it was Pansy. He had not felt a woman's touch in months.

Then without so much as a word, he had thrust into her hard, and she yelped in pain. He continued, going hard and causing the couch where they sat to slide along the floor. She threw her long legs up and around his waist, squealing in pleasure and grasping his shoulder blades.

"Oh, fuck Draco!" She screamed, so loud he cringed. "Oh, don't stop!"

--

Draco dusted his robes thoroughly as he exited the sitting room minutes later, fully clothed and sick feeling. He did not say another word to Pansy, cold and cruel he walked and shut the door, heading up the giant staircase and into his bedroom.

The moment he entered, he gasped.

Hermione lay on his bed, eyes closed. Her washed and tamed hair lay at her shoulders and against the pillow in long brown wisps, falling over her pale complexion. Her face was now free of cuts or bruises, and her fingernails were healed. She was clothed in some of his mothers old night wears. He found himself getting lost watching her there, her chest caving in and out softly, her breath quiet and steady.

He thought she looked beautiful.

Suddenly, he snapped out of his trance, nearly slapping himself for being such a prat.

He could not believe those thoughts had just passed through his head.

He stepped over to where she was, and sat down on the bed next to her, watching her sleep. He wanted nothing more then for her to wake up, and help him with the potion so he could get this over and done with, and then return her back to that ruddy prison. He cringed at the thought of sending her back there. Even he, who was cold and vicious, didn't think he had the guts to send her back there.

She stirred slightly, her eye lids flickering, moaning as though she was in pain. He looked around the room nervously; the house elves were gone now.

He wondered how much she had been eating.

He assumed very little.

He would have never thought he'd see the day that the mudblood would be sleeping in his bed. Yet, there she was, and she didn't look half bad.

Draco snorted.

Too bad she wasn't pure-blood.

Suddenly, she stirred violently, her legs kicking outward. Draco stood fast, looking at her, not knowing what to do.

Her eyes opened like switches, and she stared at him.

He stared back.

Then she blinked as though in pain, and covered her eyes with her hands. He realized that the light was probably hurting her, since she had been in utter darkness for three years. He reached over and flicked off the light.

She removed her hands very slowly, and stared at him once more through the dim light from only the candles.

He wondered if she remembered who he was.

Then she spoke.

"W-where," She paused, as though speaking was something strange to her. "Where am I?"

"You are at Malfoy Manor, in my bed, actually." He said, forcing a smile, trying his best not to be cold. She had been through a lot, and though he didn't much care for her, he couldn't bring himself to be cruel.

She looked around nervously, like a child would, and forced herself to sit up.

She cringed with pain.

Draco went to reach for her, to help her, then stopped himself.

"Where's Ron?" She asked.

Draco felt angry. He despised the fact that the first thing she asked, was where that sniveling Weasley was.

"Dead." He said coldly. He thought afterwards he had been a little too abrupt.

She looked at him, her eyes weak and her face plain. Though, she did not react the way he had thought she would have.

"You're safe now." Draco said to her.

She whimpered softly, throwing her hands over her shoulders and rubbing them as though she was very cold. Then, she turned to him, no expression in her face.

She asked him the one question he knew she was going to address.

"Why?"

He blinked, perplexed, shifting slightly. He felt very uncomfortable.

"I need you Granger, enough said. Get some rest."

He went to stand, but she clung to him with her hand. He stopped, sitting back down again, yanking his arm away.

"Don't touch me, mudblood." He hissed, his natural anger coming forth. She did not cringe the way she once had when he called her this. Her hands shook, as she leaned back against his pillows.

He wanted more then anything to ask her of that marking on her wrist.

A/N: Hey guys, I am leaving it here for tonight, but more updates will follow. Some people are telling me that the site is not letting them review. I don't know why this would be, but hopefully you can review! –crosses fingers-