A/N: I don't know how to tell you all how happy I am that you are enjoying this fic. I just wasn't sure because the romance part is moving quite slowly, but I think people know it will be worth it in the end. The only reason I am taking it so slow is because, well I said it before. . . Draco and Hermione is a farfetched idea, and to make it seem realistic I can't very well just put them on top of each other instantly. I am glad you all understand this! People want to read something that they can actually see happening, if these characters really existed I mean, and well some stories are just ridiculously out of character, kind of like my story Silver knight, but again, I am trying different approaches.

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Gravity01- I don't want to spoil anything for you, but I have a reason for keeping Pansy alive! Thank you for the review.

Dadaismo- Holy cow so I visited that site, and the rules are just insane! I think I will try posting on that site soon, but right now I have too much on the go. . . thank you for filling me on the site though it's great!

Chapter Eight

Death by Draco

As Draco released her from his cold grasp, she tumbled uncontrollably, supporting herself against the hearth of the fireplace in weak attempts. It was going to take some time for her strength to come back to her, and she very well couldn't just start working on some devious plot just then.

She thought of Ron suddenly, his bright blue eyes looking over her and his dazzling smile brightening her. What would he say if he knew she was surrendering herself to the wishes of Draco Malfoy? She felt very feeble suddenly, over the fact that she had just chosen to stay in the protection of the most feared manor in all of Brittain.

Then she thought of Harry, his kind smile and his ambitions. She remembered the day he died, the entire world seemed to come to a stand still. She remembered the looks on everyone's faces when his limp body hit the grass outside of the front steps of Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She shuddered, still clinging to the mantle of the fireplace.

Malfoy moved towards her, stretching out his hand for her to take with her own. She glared down at it, limping her way back over towards the bed without his aide.

"I don't need your help Malfoy." She hissed, collapsing down and burying her head in the lusciously soft pillow. She had forgotten what a pillow felt like.

She could feel his icy eyes burning a hole in the back of her head, and she rolled over to meet them. Staring into them for more then a second drew chills up her back. She had never spoken to him for such a long period of time, let alone in an allied partnership.

"Right." He said coldly, arms crossed as he watched her struggle to sit up. "You think about what you just said every time you worship the fresh air you are now breathing and the food you are eating."

She sighed angrily.

"Just, tell me what this plan is." She snapped, pushing her brown locks behind one of her ears and looking up towards him with a curiosity and frustration.

"See, that's where you come in Granger, because I don't really have much of a plan."

She watched him carefully as he removed a small piece of parchment from his robe pocket, and handed it to her smugly. She took it, shivering as of the fact that he was still looking at her eyes, making her feel overwhelmed with a nervous feeling.

Draco, I have found something that may give all of mankind, wizards and muggles alike, a second chance at freedom. I have been using the house elves to explore and spy on everything going on in this manor. There is a plot. This is something I thought you might find useful.

Mother.

"Well," Hermione muttered coyly, still staring down at the page. "It seems your mother wasn't quite the terrible cow she led everyone to believe."

"My mother was never anything, but a sophisticated and elegant woman." Draco spat harshly, making her look up from the page. He looked furious. "Just because you think you have my whole life's story calculated in you fat muggle head, doesn't make your accusations the truth. People only ever assume what they want to, and never have the facts straight."

Hermione stared at him blankly.

"You're mother, so happened to serve on the opposite side of the war from me." She said, flipping the page over and reading the remainder of the print. "So, what would you expect me to assume?"

"I would expect you to understand that the Dark Lord has many tricks up his sleeves." He replied, his face twisted into that same scowl he had given her since she was eleven years old. "Why is it you think she died Granger? Think hard, because it wasn't as if she was old or unhealthy, at least until he cursed her that is."

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but found herself at a loss for words.

"You don't even know what it was like for me, in the sixth year." He continued, still staring at her maliciously. "Do you really think I would have had the guts or the heart to lead up to the death of Albus Dumbledore, if he did not have something driving me to do so?"

She felt it was better to not say anything now. She suddenly felt very sorry for him, as she rung the parchment in her hands.

He seemed to swallow rather loudly, as he glanced down at the writing.

"Did you read it?" He asked her, his voice softer now then it had been before.

"Yes, Manifest 456."

"What does it mean?"

She glanced down at the ink once more, her head pounding and her brain still ticking in survival mode.

"I think that it must be a book, and a page number." She said softly, feeling incredibly cruel for what she had said to him. He took the page from her and looked over it once more, as though thinking the idea through in his head.

As she shifted in the sheets, she saw his eyes fall onto the marking on her wrist. She covered it, looking back up at him, wondering if he had seen it. He didn't seem to have noticed. She was relieved.

"I wonder if there is a book called Manifest in the Malfoy Library." He said calmly, his silver eyes scanning over the page. "I should go have a look, why don't you take time to look over this potion recipe."

He handed it back to her and turned toward the door. She watched as he stopped suddenly, his back to her. He seemed to be cringing, as he raised his wrist up to his face. The marking on his wrist had begun to hiss loud enough so even she could hear from the far side of the bedroom.

Draco turned to her, placing his finger over his lips telling her not to speak. She obeyed, watching carefully.

Then a voice rang out and reached her ears.

"Draco, I require your assistance with the rebels."

The voice was a low and evil hiss, and Hermione recognized it right away. It was Voldemort. Her mind rushed at what he had said. Rebels? There were still some people alive and ready to fight him, this idea made her grin. Draco turned and looked at her, a very faint fear flashing in his eyes.

"Yes my lord." He said quietly, still looking at Hermione. She knew he would have to go now. He took a step backwards, inhaling deeply and closing his eyes. A moment or so passed, then he vanished on the spot, leaving behind only a soft cloud of smoke.

She looked around desperately, the thought of escaping the manor instantly hitting her mind once she was left alone. She pulled herself up from the bed sheets with full blown efforts, and hobbled her way over to the bedroom door. She reached for the oak handle and turned it very quietly, sneaking her way out and down the glorious hallway. Emerald carpeting covered the slightly visible hardwood floor. Torches held by the mouths of iron serpents scattered across the elegantly papered walls, and large chandeliers of crystal hung from the ceiling. She felt as though she should be in a princess story.

Having not a clue which way the exit was, she took the way that looked most promising. Her feet made hardly a sound on the lush carpet, as she snuck along, reaching a very tall and detailed banister, which twirled down into a vast entrance hall. She stopped suddenly, hearing voices. They were faint, but she could hear what they were saying.

"There is no way Draco would be plotting anything." Came a low growl of a voice that Hermione recognized from long ago. She could not put a face to the voice.

"Yeah, Pansy, you really need to get a hold of yourself, listen to what you are saying."

"I'm telling you, it's the truth!" Pansy squealed, and Hermione thought she heard a sound as though the girl had stomped her foot. "She's upstairs in his bed right now, you can go see for yourself!"

"Like hell I'm going up there. Do you know how angry he get's when we bother him while he's taking advantage of his alone time?"

"Besides, even if he did have that mudblood here, there must be a good reason for it. Parkinson, you are way over reacting, as usual."

"NO! Have you not noticed the way he's been acting lately? There is something up and I am going to find out what it is."

Hermione pressed her ear against the railing, trying with all of her best efforts to listen to what they were saying. It had only been a few minutes and Pansy had already run and told someone, two people for that matter. She assumed that it must have been Crabbe and Goyle.

She slinked her foot down onto the first of the many stairs descending into the entrance hall. She cringed as the floor boards creaked underneath her weight. She stopped for a moment, making sure that she had not attracted any nasty visitors. She couldn't hear anything, except the three arguing, so she continued down the stairs until she had reached the bottom. She felt weak and tired, and wasn't sure she could go much further.

Suddenly, footsteps filled her ears, and they sounded as though they were getting closer.

Hermione looked around desperately for somewhere to hide, but there was no where. She heard the footsteps coming closer and closer, and made a bolt back up the steps and into the hallway where she had just emerged. She ducked down as the three Death Eaters walked by the foot of the stairs bickering like school children. She let out a sigh of relief, thinking maybe it was better to just go back to Malfoy's room.

She was too weak to escape now, but she would. She would escape and resurrect Harry without Malfoy's help. That was of course if she could remember how to brew a potion.

If only she had her wand.

Draco stood in the center of a very large hall, dark and foreboding. He knelt the moment he had appeared in front of the large throne, and bowed his blonde head down to his knee. He shivered slightly as a massive serpent hissed and coiled hear his feet, the last of Voldemort's horcruxes.

He heard the Dark Lord hiss something, and the creature slithered towards the thrown, coiling itself around the wooden legs and staring at Draco with beady eyes. Draco raised his head, looking towards where his master sat, though he could not see his face.

"Draco, I have a task for you." He said, stroking the snakes massive head with long white fingers. "I have recently received word from the slave pens, that the Granger girl has escaped. I know that she could not have possibly done so on her own, and I find myself wondering how whoever retrieved her knew exactly what cell to break into and where the cell was located. Do you have any thoughts?"

Draco bowed his head once more, trying to hide the fact that he was shaking violently.

"No, my Great Lord." He said quietly, firmly pressing his palms to the cold floor to keep them from shaking any more then they already were.

"I would assume, to the best of my knowledge, that it would be you, Draco."

Draco looked up into the blackness in fear, though trying to hide it.

"That is why I am assigning you with this task, Draco." Voldemort continued, still stroking the snakes head. "I must know if your loyalty is sincere. I have a rebel here, captured in the Dark Forest last night, and I believe her to be one of your old Hogwart's companions. I wish for you to kill her, and do it swiftly. This will prove to me whether you are planning something against me."

Draco nodded softly.

He had killed so many times before, but it had never been someone he had known well enough for it to haunt him terribly. He shook violently as two of the same dark creatures who had been raping Granger marched out into the open, and threw down a dark figure nastily. The girl sobbed, her hands and feet bound.

Draco rose from where he knelt and watched her as she struggled to break free. He felt his heart flicker and his pulse quicken as she looked up at him.

It was Cho Chang. He remember her well. She was scraped and bruised, her hair tossed every which way and her sobs loud. He reached for his wand, his eyes beginning to water.

If he didn't kill her, the Dark Lord would know, and there would never be any chance of bringing back Potter. Though, if he killed her he would forever feel guilty. As her brown eyes watched him from the floor, he felt for the first time that he was the most cowardly person to walk the earth.

"Please." She wailed, covering her face with her hands.

Kill one, save the world.

He took a deep breath, pointing his wand towards her face.

"This wont hurt." He said kindly to her, and her sobbing subsided slightly. "Avada Kadavera!"

A/N: Hey guys! Hope your still enjoying the fic, I am going to bed now but i wanted to post before I did. Hope you liked it!