A/N: Well I can say with all honestly that if this chapter doesn't catch the attention of many readers, then I am not sure what will! This is a chapter with a little of everything. Romance, death, violence, abuse, drama. Everything that the readers enjoy.

So... relax, read, and ENJOY!

You cant seem an angel,

until you first seem a freak.

I can't feel strong in your presence,

without first feeling weak.

You cannot make me happy,

If I wasn't once sad.

I cant see the good,

Without first seeing the bad.

Chapter Fourteen

The Awakening

Hermione lay on the dusty and cold stone floor of the Library, choking and spluttering in her own crimson blood. The creatures had come for her, they jagged eyes penetrating her soul. Their razor sharp claws had cut through her flesh and spilled her blood across the tiles. Everything felt so cold. The creatures were gone now. They had left her there to die.

Hermione tried to call out. She used every last portion of air in her lungs to exhale, calling out to the house elves. They could not hear her. No one could hear her. That sad and pitiful excuse for a man, Malfoy, was nowhere to be found. As her body convulsed and her vision began to blur, her head was swimming with his face. She was so far gone now, her body was beginning to fill with a soft euphoria. She found herself just begging Merlin that someone would find her, even just to be with during her last breaths.

It was ironic really, that Malfoy had rescued her from those creatures and from near death, only to have them show up at his manor and slaughter her regardless. She found herself wondering how that had found her.

Hermione was so far gone, that she did not hear the footsteps making their way up the massive staircase in the foyer. She did not hear the yells and the screams and the thudding of corpses falling to the floor just outside the library entrance. She didn't hear the door of the library swing open, and all was nearly dark in her eyes by the time his sweeping blonde hair fell into her sights. In the moment, her heart hammered with relief. Malfoy was back. He was a massive blur above her, but he was back.

She coughed uncontrollably and suddenly, hot blood spilling over her lips and down her chin. She was near losing consciousness now. Why wasn't he healing her, or moving forwards to assist her? Hermione knew that Malfoy had never been fond of her, but surely he wouldn't let her die. Doing her best to stare up towards his blurry face, her head continued to spin.

She was so dizzy... so tired.

If she could only sleep for just a moment.

Then she heard his voice. That cold, hiss of a voice. Even through ringing ears, and even after years of being locked in the darkness, she recognized it instantly.

"Well well well. What do we have here?"

Her heart, which had been slowing with relief just moments before, began screaming and kicking to break free from her chest. A rushed wave of hot panic overcame her limb from limb, as she struggled to move. Nothing. Her joints were not responding to her. She had nowhere to go. She came to the sudden realization, that she was going to die. She was too weak to save herself, and she was too weak to call for help. Regardless if she could call for help... no one interfered with the plans of the Dark Lord's second in command...

Lucius Malfoy.

The sky had opened up that evening. The rain had began to poor from the blackened sky, soaking Draco almost instantly. The threads of his robe and cloak felt cold and stiff against his skin. The constant sheath that was pummeling from the sky above was so thick, that he could barely see two inches in front of his pale nose. The hill up which they trudged was almost instantly a muddy landslide, making if difficult to traverse.

Regardless of the terrain. Draco would not let himself be caught off guard and downhill again. His mind was exhausted, filled with confusion and regrets. Immortal? How is that so? Even the Dark Lord had used his horrcruxes to protect his soul. What had his master dug up in his dark travels? The green glow emitting itself from Draco's eyes lit up the rain droplets like tiny green shooting stars, making seeing even more difficult. He didn't understand how this gave him any sort of an advantage.

Then, his brand-new, exceptional hearing picked up on the slightest of sounds. A snapping twig. Before his aunt could even blink, Draco had spun around on his heel, his wand pointed directly towards the sound. It was so dark however, that even his new vision could not see anything. If anything, how his eyes picked up on every small detail may have made seeing even worse.

The rebel shots came so fast.

The sky was filled with blinding lights, as spell after spell was cast in the direction of the two Death Eaters. It only took Draco a moment to realize that they were surrounded. He had been sent there to kill them all, and look what had happened. They were trapped. Trapped like helpless animals. Both lifted their wands at identical moments, returning fire with full force. Bellatrix wasn't risking using the Crucio curse now, when there was far too much at stake.

Draco fired blindingly through the storm, unable to see or hear anything. The rain was far too thick and the sky was far too dark. There was an instant where movement caught his eye. He spun around and fired the death curse. There was a soft thud as yet another body fell to the forest floor that night. Then, the strangest of sensations came over him. It was as though a fresh layer of skin was being pulled over his eyes. It felt hot and slippery. It coated even the very outwards edges of his irises and all went pitch black. Only for moments, however. In the next, the images of at least a dozen red figures formed amongst the trees.

It was as if his old eyes were removed, and replaced with better ones. Heat-detective ones. He could see the mass of every living body within those trees, each attempting at his life. The monster inside of him was once again unleashed, as he cast curse after curse towards all he could see. One by one they fell. Draco could hear Bellatrix howling with joy in the background.

His new power, however, blinded his better judgment. With the amount of magic he was casting out, it was only a matter of time before one of the rebels triangulated it to where he was standing. There were only three left alive, when a rebel spell was fired directly towards his face. He caught the flash of silver light just in time to leap out of its path, landing on the soaking cold floor and sheathing himself in mud. He spat and coughed, lifting himself back to his feet almost as quickly as he had fallen. That had been far too close.

Moments later, Bellatrix Lestrange had all three of the remaining rebels under the Crucio curse. Their screams filled the air so quickly, Draco was nearly caught off guard. Three left of so many. Bellatrix continued to point her wand in their direction, as three bodies fell to the ground, twitching in agonizing pain. Once again, Draco felt angered by her careless enjoyment. He just could not understand how she lived to torture.

He took a few steps forwards in the shards of rain, hitting his now exposed head like glass. It was already drenched, his bones chilled to the core. There was no reason to pull over his hood once again. His eyes fell onto the faces of the three helpless victims. His only relief, was that if his aunt had them under her curse, then they would not have to die.

No, they would be shipped off to the prison, tortured and raped. Just as Granger was. He admitted, there was a part of him that loathed Granger, but there was no part of him that believed she deserved such a cruel fate. No one did.

Something snapped inside the mind of Draco Malfoy that evening. A new and stronger form of hate bubbling inside of his pit of a soul. He turned and watched the face of his aunt, his eyes and nostrils flared like a freshly woken dragon. She grinned wickedly in his direction, at the exact same time a rebel he had believed dead, moaned in agony at his feet. Bellatrix, too deep in her Crucio curses to notice the fourth survivor, was not able to stop her nephew as he knelt down to examine the injured man. He had been hit with one of Draco's flame spells, and it had blasted right through his stomach. Draco found himself amazed that the man was breathing at all.

It was the red hair that made Draco's breath seize. It was the familiar blue eyes that stared up at him. The pale complexion and the angered expressions. The man choked and spluttered, and Draco flinched in the sudden realization of who is was.

"Weasley? You're supposed to be dead!" He whispered, turning his head and glancing back at Bellatrix. She had not realized who it was. Weasley gave a loud cough, before grabbing hold of the energy to spit the blood filling his mouth right onto Draco's face. The blonde did not even flinch. He was far too perplexed to react to this lash of rage.

The wound in the boys stomach smoked and hissed, the smell of burning flesh wafting into Draco's nostrils. Ron let out the quietest of whimpers, glancing from the wound to Draco and then back towards the wound again. Draco reached to his side and quickly retrieved his wand, pulling himself to his feet. He found himself swaying with dizziness, covered in mass amounts of blood. It wasn't until he considered just how much blood there was, that he realized he was also hurt. The curse that he had avoided only moments before, must have brushed his arm, because blood was oozing from the flesh under his torn robe.

Draco cringed, the pain suddenly hitting him, and for a moment he forgot all about Weasley dying at his feet. It wasn't in his nature to give a damn about him to begin with. He had always despised Weasley, even more then the rest.

Suddenly, the air around them was filled with a heart-stopping scream. There was a great hissing sound as the blood from Draco's arm pooled downwards and hit Ron's exposed skin. Wherever Draco's blood came into contact, the redhead's skin began to boil. The puncture wound through the mans stomach was emitting a loud screaming sound, as a kettle would when the water was boiled. Draco's blood was creating a reaction with the wound of his enemy. Confused and stricken, Draco took a step backwards, as Ron let out one final scream, before falling silent all together.

His screams were replaced by stifled breaths, the light returning to his eyes. Draco stood his ground in a massive confusion, as Wealsey hoisted himself up onto his elbows, examining his body. Where the wound had been only minutes before, sat smooth and healthy skin. It was as if the hole in his flesh was never there at all. The bloody ichor that had been secreting itself from his skin had stopped. He was completely healed. Both looked at each other for the smallest of moments, before Draco double took onto the cut on his arm. Blood still poured.

His blood. Had his blood healed Wealsey?

The horrified look on the ex-Griffandor's face was enough to make Draco turn swiftly on a heal. The three other survivors, the people Bellatrix had under the crucio curse, they were Weasley's family. Both his parents, and his younger sister.

Hell, as if I could remember their names.

A crazed feeling came over Draco that moment. A sudden realization that, he was far stronger then his deranged aunt Bellatrix. He was far faster. He, was the only body there who still had a grasp on his wand. Wealsey attempted to lift himself to his feet, but fell back almost instantly from weakness. The pain he had experienced had sucked the strength right out of him. Draco watched him struggling, crying out in anger for his family. He suddenly found himself jealous of the Weasley boy. Draco had never felt such concern and loyalty for his family, let alone his friends.

Then happened the moment, which would change Draco's life forever. The moment he realized who he really was. He, Draco Malfoy, had been the son of a coward and the nephew of a monster. He was the killer of hopes and the shatter-er of dreams, the dark messenger for the Dark Lord. His name was now just as feared as his masters. His hands were the ones that did the killing.

There was only a moments pause, between the mass of thoughts traversing their way through Draco's mind, to the moment when his wand let lose.

"Avada Kadavera!"

The green light which emitted from Draco's wand was so fast and so strong, it was almost invisible. Before the pale boy could even blink once, the cold hard body of Bellatrix Lestrange fell to the forest floor in and dead heap. The screams from the Weasleys instantly halted, as the three struggled to catch their breath.

It took many moments for Draco to realize what he had just done. He had just murdered his own flesh and blood in cold fashion. The hot rage which surged through his veins shocked even him. Never had killing felt so good. Never had it felt so right.

The four Weasleys were all staring at him with horrified and confused stares, the cold rain still clouding the air. Draco turned his head, lifted his wand and shouted:

"Accio wands!"

All four of the remaining rebels wands launched from beneath the soaked ground and levitated their way into his hands. At the sight, the Weasleys all fell back in fear, cowering at what he would do next. The fear that was in their eyes, it made Draco just as afraid of himself as they were. Would he ever be able to repair the damage he had made? Would he ever be able to repent?

"Just, get it over with you filthy prat!" Ron shouted, his voice roaring over the rainfall. Draco shot daggers at the redheaded boy he had once been classmates with. His eyes began to burn at the sound of those words, as if for the first time he was waking up. He turned his head, letting his neck crack at the joints, before tossing the Weasley's each their wands. The moment the magical instruments were in their hands, they all rose to their feet.

"So it's a fight you want?" Asked the girl, her long red hair falling over her face. Mud plastered her arms and her legs, as she glared at him through the darkness. "You sick monster!"

"I want nothing from you!" Draco roared, his fists and jaw clenching at the sound of her accusations. They all looked taken aback by this. "Just go! Run! Don't look back! You can't win this fight, there is only one person who can... and that person is me."

Then, without so much as another word, Draco had vanished in a flash of robes and smoke once more.

The blonde Malfoy appeared into the sudden hot and damp of his bedroom. His knees buckled and he fell into a soaked heap on the floor. The sudden realization of what he had done, flowed through his every fiber.

He had killed his aunt. He had let the rebels escape. Now... he would surely suffer the dark and horrible consequences which awaited him. There was no escaping the Dark Lord. Nowhere to hide.

For the first time since his mother died, Draco Malfoy sobbed uncontrollably. Huddled into a tight black ball, hot tears streamed down his frozen face, burning his lips. His eyes ached from whatever mutation they had suffered. His arm ached from his battle wound. His soul ached... oh how his soul ached. He tossed onto his side and let out the loudest of screams, flailing and pounding his bed frame with a closed fist. He pulled back, petrified in surprise when his fist passed right through the solid oak. Not only was he immortal, he was also much stronger.

He had hardly any time to contemplate this however. For somewhere within the house, a woman's scream echoed his. It was faint, he could tell, but his new hearing granted him the power to detect it.

"Malfoy!"

Ten years from that night, if you asked Draco what had powered him that evening, he still would not have the answer. Hearing Granger's scream triggered an emotion deep within his heart, an emotional of panic and concern. Snatching up his wand and leaping to his feet, he disappeared with a loud crack, and found himself standing directly between his father, and the near-dead Hermione Granger.

His father seemed startled by his presence. It was as though he had not expected Draco home for some time. The thought suddenly occurred to Draco that, maybe sending him into the forest had been a set up. The Dark Lord must know. He had too. Bellatrix had been sent with him to murder him in cold blood that night. It was all just part of the master plan.

Draco felt his face cringe at the sound of Granger's weak whimpers. She slithered on the cold stone floor, helpless and dying. However, Draco knew that he could not rescue her, until he had rid himself of his father once and for all.

There was a very long and drawn out silence between father and son at that moment. The only sounds were those of Hermione groaning in pain. Draco took a moment to scan the room briefly with his new vision. Blood littered the floor, pooling and running through the cracks in the stone like red rivers. She had lost far too much blood. More panic came over him. Granger was his only hope of avenging his mothers death, and putting an end to it.

His silver eyes once more locked with those of his fathers. Both men shot at each other with hatred and malice.

There was no love among demons. No compassion. Just raw rage, and the thirst for one another's blood.

The battle began so quickly, that Draco felt as though he was in a dream. He felt he watching himself through the eyes of someone new... someone good. Someone who could never fathom the desire to murder your own flesh and blood.

Hermione desperately tried to keep her eyes open. Lucius had healed her only enough. Enough to be able to feel the pain. It was unbearable, and it was endless. Her arms and legs would not do as she asked, and her head was swirling in an endless oblivion. Black stars filled her vision, as the the blurred masses of father and son began to battle. Magic shot and whistled through the air like gunfire, blasting through glass and stone. She heard the younger of the Malfoy's let out the loudest of screams, though, she could not gather whether it was a scream of pain or a scream of anger.

Then, the darkness consumed her.

She awoke to the most horrifying pain she had ever experienced. After spending so long a time in prison, being raped night after night, being beaten, bruised and torn, she now prayed for those pains to return. There was nothing that could compare to what she was feeling at that moment.

Her eyes shot open like darts, the light from a nearby torch blinding her vision. She cried out in agony, hot tears streaming down her cheeks. She just wanted it to end. Merlin, please just let it end.

Then, the light from that torch which blinded her so, was shadowed by a hooded figure. Hermione felt herself struggling to escape, not knowing which of the Malfoy's had come out of the fight alive. It wasn't until his pale and slender fingers reached forwards and took hold of her face that she knew. Looking upwards once more, her eyes fell into his.

Only, his eyes were changed. From where there once was soft silver, now there was a piercing green. It illuminated his white face, and warmed her skin.

She was startled as Draco shook her head violently.

"Granger!" He hissed, as her head fell limp onto her shoulder. "Stay awake! You have to stay awake!"

Her eyes shot open to full capacity once more, as the boy she had always detested with every waking of her being, reached into his robes and took hold of his wand. Turning her head to the side, her eyes fell onto the lifeless pupils of one Lucius Malfoy, bathing in his own blood just feet away. Hermione found herself letting out a wild gasp. Malfoy had done it. He had killed his last remaining family. The thought had somehow distracted her momentarily from the pain that she was feeling, as Draco touched his wand to his hand and uttered an incantation. She wondered of the pain he must be feeling. He looked unscathed.

Another scream. She could not control her reactions any longer. Malfoy had lifted his hand, scarlet liquid now pouring from his freshly cut palm. Hermione felt petrified as he pushed the new cut to her lips, smothering her. She could not breathe, and began to panic.

"Drink it! Now!"

Draco began to feel a wave of panic as he watched her resit his aid. There was a sudden feeling of emptiness and then more panic. He had just killed his father. If Granger died, he would be left entirely on his own, with no one to confide in but his own twisted hatred. He saw Hermione as his light, his only guidance through the darkness. He found himself momentarily thinking that she reminded him of his mother.

Every memory of Granger, of how he hated her and their differences, seemed to disappear that night. As he watched her eyelids flutter with so little life, he couldn't help but fight. Hell, he was willing to put up a fight, why wasn't she?

He took a deep breath, reaching forwards and grabbing hold of her frozen nose with his fingertips, pinching and blocking all airways. She had no choice now, she would have to drink. She gagged and spat, rejecting the blood as best she could. At least a drop or two must have found their way into her system. Draco truly had no idea if this idea would work, only that her wounds were too vast to poor the blood.

Draco grinned for the first time in as long as he could remember, as her body went stiff as a drawing board, and her eyes rolled back into her head. Then came the screams, the screams that seemed to go on far longer then Wealsey's had. His blood was working. She was mending.

The wounds on her skin began to hiss and squeal, sealing as if they were never there at all. Her bruises slowly faded, revealing her soft smooth skin once more. Her screams slowly lessened, and then that had stopped all together.

Her eyes, having closed with the relief, fluttered opened only moments later.

Draco felt his heart skip, only once, something he had never experienced before. Something he did not yet recognize as compassion for another human being. Without realizing, he had lifted a single hand to her warm cheek, caressing it gently, unaware of the childish smile plastered to his exhausted face.

Draco Malfoy let out a long and exasperated sigh of relief.

Not only was Granger healed. She looked better then she had before he had left that evening.

Hermione Granger looked better that she ever had.