Ahh I'm horrible, I knoww! I said one or two months but its been like half a year.. cries I'm soo soo sorry! begs everyone's forgiveness so I'll try to make this chapter as long as possible so everyone's happy with the drama and the whatnot.

YAY! I hit 5000 views! YeaH! Only 74 reviews though. TTTT keep up the great work readers! XD keep those hits/reviews coming. I promise promise promise write faster.. TTTT if not you can flame me. Deal? eyes angry mob nervously

Chapter 9

Dusk drooped, silently and almost peacefully, orange and pink and gold. Draco returned from an angry stalk of the hallways and found Hermione twisting restlessly in front of a twitching flame. Worry mingled with confusion splashed across the room, hitting Draco more foully than the stench of the dungeons, bringing forth from him some weird feeling he wasn't sure he should have been experiencing. Sympathy, maybe worry creased his mind. You're worried because of her doubt. Maybe she figured out she's a Gryffindor. Without effect, his mind tried to convince him. He couldn't be compassionate for the… er… witch. No freaking way.

With a last weak crackle, the fire faded and the room descended into darkness. There was no moonlight down in the dungeons; no light from anything above ground level reached the dank depths of the Hogwarts Castle. Despite its insulation from the surrounding earth, the stones were cold and impersonal, the air, heavy with frigidity.

In her slumber, Hermione shivered. Involuntarily, Draco twitched at the distress that washed over his mind.

"Hermione," he whispered, shaking her softly. "Wake up. You're going to catch a cold."

What the hell was that last part? Why would I give a damn whether she gets sick or not? Draco's mind resumed the rebelling it had taken on earlier in the day. He shook her harder.

Hermione didn't budge. Despite the slight grimace on her face and her furrowed brows, her slumber remained deep.

Sighing and rolling his eyes, Draco did something completely against his nature: he scooped her off the tattered armchair and tugged her fingers free from the tassel. Then, moving with unexpected ease, he swept her (unromantically) up the stairs.

He never noticed when the worry became contentment and the distress became pleasure, but Hermione snuggled deeper into Draco's arms and an innocent smile crept onto her face.
Harry readjusted his glasses and scribbled another streak of ink onto a crumpled piece of parchment. Ron, Ginny, and he had a meeting briefly after dinner to discuss how they planned on forcing Draco to relinquish Hermione. He squinted through slightly foggy glasses – it was cold – and crossed out another line off the cluttered paper.

It now read:

Poison Draco Malfoy

Tell Hermione the truth

Feed Draco a love potion and make him fall in love with Moaning Myrtle

Confuse Crabbe and Goyle into clobbering Draco

Kidnap Hermione

Confess Harry's undying love for Hermione

Tell Hermione that Draco is a rapist

The list went on from there and encompassed quite a few more colorful, painful, and rather appealing options. Sadly, Ginny had crossed them out on the grounds that they wanted Hermione back and not suspension.

Harry glared at the list. Although most of the more… interesting ones were contributed by Ron, Harry had thought a bit too long about the amiable expression Hermione had on when she was talking to Draco and began to see the attraction in beating Malfoy over the head repeatedly with a broom and subsequently shoving him into the Vanishing Cabinet.

That one had been crossed off by Ginny too. As if her idea was any better, Harry's mind seethed. His eyes drifted over Ginny's only input: "Confess Harry's Undying Love for Hermione." That hardly seemed like a solution than a more obvious reason for her to push him away.

Yawning and leaning back in his chair, Harry's eyes closed momentarily, and an image of Hermione flickered over his mind.

I wonder what she's doing right now, he ruminated sadly. A half naked Draco standing silhouetted over Hermione's terrified body floated subconsciously to the surface of his thoughts. No, No, NO! He shook the thoughts away. Looking outside, he noticed that the moon had already waned in the lightening sky.

I should get some sleep, he thought. Obviously, his distress was bothering him a bit too much. After all, Ron and Ginny had gone to sleep hours ago, leaving Harry to brood in his own misled thoughts. A bit of sleep will clear my mind, he decided firmly. Thank God the next day would be Saturday.

That night, Harry dreamt of rape.

Pansy didn't call herself multi-talented for nothing. She was beautiful (self-proclaimed), and intelligent (also self-proclaimed). That night, Pansy was also making a list.

The focus was marginally dissimilar from that of Harry's, but if getting rid of Hermione meant getting Draco back, then what difference did it make?

Pansy read over her list once again.

Poison Hermione Granger

Tell Hermione the truth

Feed Draco a love potion and make him fall in love with me

Confuse Harry and Ron into clobbering Hermione

Kidnap Hermione

Confess Harry's undying love for Hermione

Tell Hermione that Draco is a rapist

Pansy bit her lip in what she thought was a pose of sultry agitation. The only ones crossed out were the ones that would make Draco mad. She already tried to kidnap Hermione once and it resulted in Draco's dissatisfaction, so there was no point in trying it again. Pansy's eyebrows knitted together. Would Draco object to a love potion?

She sighed and closed her eyes momentarily. If it was a chance for Draco to love her like he did before, she was willing to give it a try.

Pansy sat there for a moment, ignoring perplexed Slytherins who stared at the 'meditating' girl. Suddenly, a stream of memories burst forth.

Memories of Draco and her, in second year, walking along the Great Lake together, holding hands and laughing. Memories of them waltzing to Chopin in Malfoy Manor summer before Third Year. Kissing during the Yule ball in Fourth. Him, shoving her when he found out she hooked up with Zabini. Her, cussing out a bloody Zabini for telling Draco. Her, disbelievingly touching her soaked face and puffy eyes in the mirror after her world had imploded. Waking up in the Hospital Wing with a fractured, sliced hand and four weeks of detention for smashing a mirror.

Her eyes snapped open. She didn't want to see. It was her fault. She knew it was.

But the fragile belief that love was invincible was hard to let go of.

Saturday's sun sprayed golden beams before it had even fully risen. At six in the morning, a full hour after Harry had stumbled into bed and fallen into the capture of sexual assault, bullying, and other things Hermione could have been subjected to, a pillar of sunlight blasted through the window and struck Harry in the face.

In his stupor the hour before, he had forgotten to wrench the hangings of his four-poster shut, thus giving ample room for the sun to take good aim.

Muttering sadistically, Harry sat up out of the range of the sun, blinked uncomprehendingly at a puddle of sunshine on his lap, and tugged the hangings closed.

Minutes later, he was back in the hold of sexual assault, bullying, and other things Hermione could have been subjected to.

A small wedge of sunlight left by the roughly closed curtains glossed the boy's ruffled hair.

The dungeons were thankfully dark. No one in Slytherin house bothered to wake before 12 PM on Saturdays, so the entire dormitory was still except for the occasional rattle of a snore. The door to Hermione's room was shut tightly, and no sound or movement could be discerned from behind the stone door.

The curtains to all the poster-beds were seamlessly sealed – after all, Slytherins liked their privacy- except for one, which was halfway open, tennis clad feet curling haphazardly out from where the body they belonged to had struck the bed.

It was eight in the morning, four full hours before any sensible Slytherin would wake.

The legs jerked. Draco Malfoy woke to the rhythmic breathing of a solid flesh wall beside him. Slightly put off by confusion and wondering where the hell the warm breath was coming from, Draco opened his eyes.

And stared into a tangle of brown curls.

Hermione, he moaned in his mind. How did she get here, into my bed?

He faintly recalled dragging her up the stairs into the boys' dormitory, and trying to open the door to her room.

Right, he remembered, Dumbledore had enchanted it so that Hermione would be the only one who could lock and unlock it, and since she was knocked out, she couldn't have undone the lock.

Since she was still asleep, it didn't look like she would be changing beds any time soon. Propping her against the door to her room seemed a bit inhumane, especially since she was supposed to be 'respected' at all times as the 'Queen of Slytherin.' Sighing melodramatically, Draco turned around, tugged on the covers, and attempted to go back to sleep.

The rumors spread like wildfire. Hermione Granger was found in Draco Malfoy's bed! Could they have… done it? Thanks to Pansy's hysterics, the whole school (with the exception of the teachers, because of course, everyone was careful in front of the teachers) knew about them before dinner even appeared on the tables in the Great Hall

Draco felt a vague annoyance at all the whispers, stares, and general jealously directed in Hermione's direction. Of all the people he got caught sleeping next to, it had to be her. They never noticed when he and Pansy almost shagged, or if they did, they didn't say anything about it. But this; it must have been because she was a brainy, plain Gryffindor, and he was a tall, handsome, aristocratic, and rich Slytherin. They just didn't match. It was illogical, yet everyone seemed to believe it.

Even though the rumor was a slight wound to his pride, Draco didn't refute it.

He wanted to see Potty and Weasel's expressions first.

Die Draco Malfoy. Die you little Ferret. DIE. Harry's hands shook uncontrollably, and a lump of chicken dropped from an indignantly quivering fork and splattered onto the tablecloth. How could he do that to Hermione? The purest and most selfless girl in the school has been contaminated by a… a… complete ASS! Harry paused to let a few satisfying images of Malfoy being severely crippled, broken, and pulverized run through his head. Harry's hands shook uncontrollably, and a lump of chicken dropped from an indignantly quivering fork and splattered onto the tablecloth. HermioneHarry paused to let a few satisfying images of Malfoy being severely crippled, broken, and pulverized run through his head.

Ginny looked over, a bewildered and slightly frightened expression on her face. "Harry, you ok?" She asked, "Why are you laughing like that?"

Harry smiled (well, grimaced) sweetly, settling on a mental image of Malfoy being lashed to a pole just within grasp of the Whomping Willow. "Nothing, Ginny. I'm fine."

Ginny quirked an eyebrow and resumed staring at Hermione. What was the point of starting this rumor, she wondered. Malfoy knows that everyone remembers Hermione was a Gryffindor. Is he trying to prove that he has influence over her actions? Why sleep with her though? There are plenty of other ways to assert possession without, well, leaving part of him in her. Her eyes overcast and incomprehensible, she returned to harassing the carrots moodily.

Ron, meanwhile, was nowhere to be found.

Pansy was in the hospital wing, receiving treatment for shock and extreme hysteria. Blaise was perched on the window, vacillating between pity and hilarity, switching back and forth alarmingly between peals of laughter and morose silence. That in itself was quite unsettling without adding a stuttering Pansy with frizzy hair and puffy red eyes into the picture.

"Why?" Pansy whispered, and squeezed the edge of the mattress until her knuckles turned white. "Why her? What does she have that I don't?"

Once again, the painful reel of memories rewound in her head. Eyes wide and unseeing, her mouth slightly open, she cried to the melody of her lost love.

Blaise remembered too. Guilt twisted his face as he stared at that girl, the only girl whose airheaded charms would ever give him butterflies, the only girl he wanted to see day and night, the only girl who refused to love him as he loved her. He recalled the events unfolding; he hadn't meant to make out with her. Draco was his best friend, and Guys over Dykes was an unspoken rule in Slytherin house. He had shattered that tradition; blown it to oblivion with his greed. It was just… once he saw her in that dress gown, looking as dangerous as a viper and at the same time, horribly seductive, he lost it. He couldn't remember who Pansy belonged to and where his priorities lay.

And so, he lost not only the trust of his best friend, but also the trust of the only girl he needed it from.

If he could have taken it back, he would. To him, Pansy's trust was worth more than his own happiness. But now, she was shattered by the inconsideration of that bastard, Malfoy. He had a perfectly good girl in front of him, yet he chose that substandard Gryffindor instead. Blaise slammed a fist into the windsill. And now, when Pansy was in the hospital wing, broken because of Draco, he, Blaise, had to be the one to watch her suffer.

Pansy's wretched sobs died down as she cried herself into an insubstantial sleep.

Blaise leapt off the windowsill and landed nimbly beside Pansy's bed. Gently shaking her fingers loose from where they clawed imprints in the mattress, Blaise tucked the covers around Pansy's shivering frame. He let his fingers rest limply against her cheek, then brushed off a tear frozen on her lashes.

Against his better judgment, he leaned down and swiftly brushed a kiss along her forehead. Then, blushing ferociously, he glanced around the hospital wing to check if anyone was watching, and stole out the door.

Draco Malfoy was stunned speechless. A red bloom in a shape curiously akin to a hand burst across his cheek and ripened to a purple hue.

"How COULD you!" Hermione screamed, goading him with an accusing finger aimed at his chest. Draco winced as the pointer hit a particularly sensitive spot and Hermione's fury reached an epitome. It didn't help that they were standing in the middle of a rather crowded hallway either. "You know VERY well that we did NOT have sex and yet I don't see you having ANY objections about people thinking we DID!"

Draco reeled back at the tongue of anger furiously slapping at his conscience. Like expected, the damn girl was overreacting.

"Shut up!" He hissed, trying to get the point across without any of their 'audience' hearing.

"Why?" She hissed back, before breaking into another rage that left him staggering into the wall right behind him.

He had to consider a bit himself before replying, "Because we're supposed to be going out."

It was enough to make her pause. "What?"

Her fury changed momentarily to shock. "Did we used to… do it?"

His mind grinned mischievously. "Er… yeah. Sorry I didn't tell you earlier."

"YOU BETTER NOT HAVE RAVISHED ME IN MY SLEEP YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Hermione's mood flashed back to aggravation.

Draco considered a bit more. The timing was right, he settled, so why the hell not?

"Answer me… Dra---" Hermione's rage was broken by warm lips on her own. "Wha--?"

Draco's eyes were pressed shut, and his mind was drilling him into not breaking away. You got yourself into it, dumbass, His mind taunted him snidely.

Hermione couldn't understand what happened. She was screaming, then she wasn't. She supposed that that was how they normally ended arguments, with Draco forcing his mouth onto hers and her melting into forgiveness.

It felt so wrong.

But his lips were soft and a bit chapped and locked with hers in a kiss that she was sure she had never experienced before. This was the boy that she supposedly dated, which meant that he was the one that she loved. In a twisted way, it made sense.

His mind reeked of desperation, and of need.

Draco thought himself a hell of a good actor.

Hermione pulled away to gasp, and to blush furiously.

Draco smirked, and hooked his fingers through hers. Surprisingly, she didn't object. His manipulation seemed to be working quite well.

Somehow, to Hermione, those calloused fingers in her small hand felt too right.

Okay I hope that was enough drama and fluff and interesting stuff to keep my readers from killing me for not updating.
I'm sooo sorry! Really I am! I've been putting most of my energy lately into deviantart:
www.herxstolenxheart. and www.peach-kiss. so I haven't had time to write. Also, I had an awful writers block. I know the general outline of the story and where its going, but I have no idea how to get there, and I always walk into twists on the way!-tear- onegasai! Please forgive me. Haha

So please REVIEW because the purple button motivates me.

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