Wicked Enraptures

Parings: HG/DM, HP/GW/Implied HG, RW/LL/Implied HG.

Ratings: R—some times it will border NC-17. Don't go running to the Admins; I'll dilute some of it out.

Summary: Horrible memories from the summer plague Hermione Granger endlessly as she tries to hide her blunders and nightmares from her best friends. However, only one person is bent on finding out what happened to the Head Girl, and that's the one and only Draco Malfoy.

Author's Note: A plot bunny that has bitten me, transmitting rabies. Oi! Here it is.

Disclaimer: I don't own it, and if I did, certain characters would be shagging already.

RECAP:

It was night again.

This time she wouldn't endure the nightmares yet again. She took One, Two, Three, Four vials of dreamless sleeping drought. She could barely make it to the bed after consuming the horrid liquid, and collapsed on the stairs.

That was where Draco found her the next morning, barely breathing.

Chapter One: The Itsy-Bitsy Spider
Climbed up the water spout
Down came the rain
and washed the spider out
Out came the sun
and dried up all the rain
and the itsy-bitsy spider
Climbed up the spout again

-

She's dying. She's dying. She's dying! Draco's mind screamed.

He lifted the girl into his arms, not flinching once and headed out of the stairwell that led to her Quarters. A thin layer of sweat made her cotton nightgown stick to her body. It was only be luck that Draco decided to visit Hermione's personal library space this Sunday morning, believing that he could knick some of her Herbology notes. While coming up her stairs, he tripped over the dying Head Girl; her hair spread out on the next stair and her eyes wide open and unmoving, breath short and labored.

Up until now, Hermione's face was turned into Draco's chest, but when she had turned around, Draco nearly dropped her. Dark, horrendous circles were under her eyes. Draco knew she must've been placing glamour's on her face to hide the bruises. "Oh sweet Morgana," Draco groaned, fear spreading in his belly as he saw the paleness of Hermione's skin, her lips turning a tinge of blue. He found himself running down the corridor, Hermione still in his arms as he made his way to the Infirmary. Madame Pomfrey was aiding a small first year when Draco came bursting into the room.

"MR. MALFOY! HOW DARE YOU! THIS IS NOT A ZOO!" The old woman reprimanded.

"MADAME POMFREY! PLEASE!" Draco ran towards her, Hermione slipping from out of his arms, quickly becoming dead weight. "She's dying…"

"What?!" the nurse squealed. "Put Miss Granger on the bed immediately…" she then ordered. Draco placed her on the nearest bed and the old nurse pulled out her wand and with some fancy wand movement, bright numbers appeared above Hermione.

"My God…her…vital signs…they're completely off! It seems she's being poisoned from within…" the nurse whispered. She removed her wand and placed it in her pocket. She lifted Hermione's limp form into a sitting position and started to shake her. There were no responses from the other girl, so Madame Pomfrey brought her wand back out and placed it on Hermione's chest. "Enervate!" Hermione's eyes fluttered open, and immediately she fell forward onto her lap. She made choking noises and began to thrash around on the bed.

"Please…no…don't hurt me…not anymore…" she whispered softly. It was so soft, only Draco could hear it, as Madame Pomfrey ran to her office to receive the necessary potions. Draco was peering down at Hermione's slow breathing form, her body shaking as she made soft, pleading noises. He placed a hand on her back, but she violently jerked away from him.

"Miss Granger," she was back, several bottles in hand. "I need to know what you took!"

"Granger, what did you take?" Draco asked softly. Hermione scrambled from off the bed suddenly, heading towards the Infirmary's loo. Madame Pomfrey stood rooted the spot, shock clearly written across her face and Draco ran after her, and the nurse could not call him back.

He followed the retching noise, and threw open the bathroom door and saw Hermione before the toilet, vomiting. He stepped closer and saw that she was throwing up what looked suspiciously like black tar, tinged with blood. Draco pulled her hair back as she continued to vomit, and he rubbed her back in slow motions. She finally gasped. "Oh God, Oh God…" she pushed herself back, "Fuck," she whimpered. "Fuck!"

"What did you take Granger?" he asked, still holding her hair back. It felt like silk in his hands. With his other hand he flushed the toilet for her, getting rid of the evidence of her sickness. He helped her stand up, and helped her limp over to the sink, where he ran cold water, bending her over the sink, cupping water in his hand and bringing it to her mouth. She clung to him as she sipped the water from his hand, spitting it out into the sink, and then repeated the motion a few more times.

"What did you take?"

"Sleeping draught," Hermione whispered. "I took too much of it…" Draco turned her so she was facing him.

"Are you trying to kill yourself?" Draco asked, his voice wavering ever so slightly. She looked away, her face pained as she contemplated the question. She just wanted to sleep without dreaming. She just wanted to be safe. Was she aware of the consequences? Maybe. Did she care? Absolutely not.

"I don't know," she said hollowly. "I really don't know…"

-----

She didn't tell Harry or Ron about her near-death experience, and Malfoy had resorted to eyeing her suspiciously every time she passed him. Two weeks later, and she could still taste the vomit on the tip of her tongue. Things were briefly tolerable for now. Her two friends walked on either side of her, and she felt protected. But with Malfoy's eyes on her, she felt oddly discontent. She didn't know why, but she accepted the discomfort nonetheless.

The three of them sat at the edge of the lake with their lunch, it being yet another Saturday. Ron and Harry were planning on flying around a bit, both having brought with them their brooms.

"Do you really have to?" Hermione asked with a huff.

"We're just going to arse around in the sky for a bit, you won't be left out too long Hermione," Ron comforted. When they kicked off from the ground, Hermione pulled out a book she borrowed from Ginny. It was sappy and overly romantic but it made Hermione think about love in a new light. It made her think that it could be possibly obtained, and maybe this time she wouldn't be hurt by it. She was halfway through the book when she realized the shift in the characters. It was a foreshadowing that indicated something significant was about to happen. She sat with her legs under her, her half-eaten lunch laid forgotten as she immersed herself into the text.

Lady Amy felt his hand on her shoulder and she nearly crumpled under it. It was Matthew, not her loving William whose hands were soft and not calloused and rough. He gripped her shoulder tightly, and pulled her around. Looking up into his wild blue eyes, she saw the raw lust in them and released a weak whimper. He cupped her cheek and she swallowed an upcoming scream. He was leaning in now, and captured her lips with an angry passion that soon quickly turned to violence. He threw her up against the church's wall, lifting her small form up and spreading her thighs apart harshly under her heavy dress. She cried out, knowing that she would have bruises later. She was not wearing her cloth, and he had already disrobed himself, his breeches gone and his thick, monstrous member pressed against her hip. He lifted her up further, and pushed painfully into her, making the virgin maid cry out in lost, anger, and pain…

Hermione dropped the book, her face contorted with horror at what she had just read. She stood to her feet, swaying on the spot. Harry was the first to see her from his spot in the sky, his Seeker skills giving him that ability. "Oi! Hermione! Where are you going?" Harry shouted. Hermione shook her head, not trusting her voice and she turned away from her two friends in the sky. She was running back to the castle now. They were her dreams, speaking to her through the things that surrounded her every day now. Her fear was overcoming her life. She was lost.

She needed sleep.

She made her way to her room. The potion was well hidden from Madame Pomfrey. She pulled open a loose rock under her bed and pulled out a long, thing box, where twenty vials laid. She pulled the box towards her and opened one vial, downing the acid liquid in a heartbeat. She would be careful and only take one, she thought, closing the wooden box and placing it back in its hiding spot. Stripping herself down to a tank top and her panties, Hermione slid under the covers of her warm bed, sleep taking hold of her. Before she finally fell asleep, she took a look at the clock on her bedside table and saw that it was only one in the afternoon.

-----

Summer

"Mum," Hermione started, taking a seat at the kitchen table as her mom began to cook dinner. Her father was in the drawing room, looking for his glasses, and she had been waiting to talk to her mother alone since she came home from work.

"Yes love?"

"What if I told you I fancied someone?" she asked. Jane turned to face her daughter, one eyebrow raised in surprise.

"I'd ask if it were Ronald…I know you two fancy each other quite a bit, and he's such a right young lad…I wouldn't mind one bit, and I know your father wouldn't either…"

"No. What if it weren't Ron or Harry? What if it were a muggle?" This suddenly peaked Jane's curiosity.

"Who is he darling?"

"Our new neighbor Eric Beckett from Manchester, he's taken a liking to me."

"Oh, he is handsome…very tall…nice blonde hair and such. I daresay he'd make a good boyfriend. I knew you two were spending a lot of time together. I didn't think it would blossom into romance," Jane giggled. She pointed a raw chicken leg at her daughter. "He's about three years older Hermione. So don't let him think he can boss you around, okay sweetheart?" she asked. Hermione nodded, a blush creeping into her cheeks. Eric was too incredibly sweet to try and boss her around.

"He would never," she whispered back, a small smile gracing her lips.

----

When Hermione awoke, she stretched languidly in her bed, pulling her sheets back and relishing the feel of waking from a dreamless sleep. She always felt good afterwards. The clock shown brightly, telling her it was nearing five in the afternoon. She stood from her bed and quickly threw on jeans and a shirt. She made her way down the stairs, and entered the common room, turning around to lock her door. She was shocked, however, when she saw four parch-it notes on her door.

Herm—

What the bleeding hell is wrong with you? You ran so fast Harry couldn't catch up with you on his Firebolt!

Are you okay?

-R

She sighed at Ron's rudeness and crumbled it in her fist, pulling down the next post.

Mione—

Are you okay? I'm worried about you. Nothing has been the same since the Great Fall, and I know we all have demons to battle.

You need to talk to us. I don't want to lose you.

-H

Hermione crumpled this letter too with a sigh. Harry always blamed problems on the after effect of the Defeat of Voldemort. She could care less about it anymore, surprisingly. It didn't bother her. They found the Horcruxes, destroyed them, and then watched and participated as the final battle took hold at Hogwarts. She was slightly unnerved, however, when Headmistress McGonagall allowed Draco Malfoy back into the school, claiming that Dumbledore's portrait supported Draco's innocence. In the end, he had lost both his parents and his home. All he had left was his Gringotts account, making him rich and all alone. She lifted the other note from the door.

Hermione!

Why the hell was my book outside by the lake?

If Dean hadn't suggested we snog there, I wouldn't have seen it!

See you at dinner love,

-Ginny

Hermione growled at this note, and definitely crumbled it. She hated that book. She thought it was simply impossible for her to hate any type of book. But she found out that she could. Lastly, she looked at the elegant scrawl on the parch-it left on her door, and pulled it off.

Meet me in the Trophy Room at five-thirty.

-DM

Hermione turned to peer at the Grandfather clock in the common room, tossing the notes in the fireplace. It read a quarter past five. She thought it would be okay to head out early to meet Malfoy. She was one to be punctual.

As she wandered the corridors, she made sure she didn't run into Harry or Ron, who would probably be looking for her now that it was nearing dinner time. Fortunately, she found them and stood quietly behind a statue as words from their conversation peaked her interest.

"…She's all fur coat and no knickers, mate…" Harry consoled a weepy Ron. Hermione watched carefully as Ron sat on the bench near the courtyard beside Harry, who was patting him on the shoulder. "Not a bit natural."

Ron sobbed. "But she was beautiful to me Harry…"

"Yes, but a tad bit plastic-looking." Ron glared. "Maybe she'll forgive you!"

"As if! Lavender is the most sought-after bird here at Hogwarts. She'd never give me a second chance."

"Well there's plenty o'girls out there Ron! I'm sure you'll find someone to suit you."

"Yeah? Who!?"

"Well, you've always fancied Hermione…I'm sure if you made the right moves, she'd date you."

"You…you think?" Ron asked, hopeful.

"Not think: I know mate, I know. She's quite fetching, if you ask me. But you know, we've always been friends and I doubt she'd ever look at me in another light. But you? You two have had something going since you laid eyes on each other."

"You're right…"

Hermione found this time to walk away from the two boys, her heart tightening in her chest at the prospect of Ron and her. Maybe she was ready to take that leap.

She was nearing the Trophy Room when she saw the door open, Draco Malfoy staring at her with a look that was somewhat cross.

"You're late."

"Am not…you don't even have a watch!"

"So? I can just tell," he said, holding open the door as she walked into the room. He closed the door after him, and Hermione began to grow nervous being alone in a room with someone who released werewolves and murderous Death Eaters into the school just months ago. She lifted her hazel-brown eyes up to his grey ones and sighed (something she had been doing a lot lately).

"What do you want?"

"Where have you been?" he blurted out, overlapping her question.

"Er…" she started. Draco shifted his weight onto his other foot and looked at her. "What do you mean?"

"You're barely here anymore Granger," he snapped.

"I don't understand!"

"I think you do."

Hermione glowered, "why do you bloody care?"

"When walking over the dying body of your classmate, you tend to care about those things…"

"I was not dying!"

"You were!" he shouted. "When you left the Infirmary Pomfrey told me if I would have waited a minute later to bring you in and have you awoken you would have died Granger. You would be dead! Does that mean anything to you?"

"I don't think anything in my mind has nothing to do with you Malfoy. You should just bugger off because you're being an arsehole!" she walked around him towards the door, but was shocked when he wrapped his hand around her wrist and flung her against the Trophy shelves, making the items inside rattle a bit. He then pressed his body against hers and stared angrily down at her. Hermione wasn't a short girl. She stood a good five feet seven inches, but Draco was still a head-and-a-hall taller than her. She swallowed and closed her eyes, exhaling.

"You look just like him," she whispered. She couldn't help the stinging in her eyes as unshed tears began to flow down her cheeks. "Let me go."

"I can't do that. Not until I know what's wrong with you," he growled.

"I don't want to tell you! I don't want to tell anyone!"

"Did someone hurt you Granger? Did someone…did someone…attack you?"

"YOU DID!" she shouted, jabbing a finger into his chest. "You attacked me!"

"What are you on about?" Draco asked, bewildered. Hermione finally pushed him away and groaned at the soreness of her back from Malfoy tossing her.

"Do you always try to get girls to talk by throwing them against walls and such?" she asked, her voice dripping with hate. "You're a right bastard Malfoy! Don't worry about me, why don't you worry about your lone self and leave me the hell alone!" With that, she stomped out of the room, her head spinning with wild thoughts of what Malfoy's motive could be.

Hermione decided to make her way to dinner and actually eat something, her stomach giving out noises to voice its neglect. Even after the Dreamless Sleeping Draught she had felt queasy and faint, but she blamed it on stress. She respectfully took her seat across from Ron and Harry at the Gryffindor table, with Ginny beside her. She pulled whatever she could reach onto her plate and ate quickly. She did not notice the looks she was getting from her friends as she went through her plate. Ginny giggled. "My goodness Hermione, what's up with you? Are you up the duff?" she joked. Harry and Ron stopped eating to look at the stricken expression on her face.

Oh my God! Her voice screamed. It had never occurred to her…they…she…was never careful.

"Hermione?" Harry asked nervously, noticing the paleness of Hermione's face at Ginny's comment.

"Oh Merlin Hermione…you're not…are you?" Ginny whispered, aghast. Without a word, Hermione stood from her seat and fled the Great Hall.

----

Dearest Hermione,

I was shocked when you asked me to send you an EPT. Are you okay, love? I won't tell your mum, but please, please let me know the results immediately!

PS—I don't think I'll ever get used to these ruddy owls!

Love,

Aunt Maggie

Hermione opened the box that her mother's sister had sent her. She felt stupid, not thinking about this earlier after…after…her relationship. It had been three days since Ginny's comment about her being pregnant, and now she was avoiding all three of her friends, and Malfoy, who had caught her crying once again the day before. She had forgotten to take her sleeping draught and had a horrible nightmare, and it had completely thrown her off the whole day.

She had tried to discreetly check out pregnancy books from the library, earning an inquiring, yet concerned look from Madame Pince. Now, she was in the common room, Draco no where to be seen, as she spilled over each text and tested herself. She needed the muggle variation because she was no expert in these wizard methods. She took the test and went to the loo. Nervously waiting for the results, Hermione's foot bounced up and down nervously as she sat on the close-lid of the toilet. She suddenly stood up and peered over at the test.

Yellow—not pregnant

Blue—pregnant

It was blue.

She threw the test across the loo, her heart pounding wildly as she saw her life flush itself down the toilet. She wrapped her arms around her body and bent forward, releasing loud, angry cries. She threw herself against the door and screamed. She didn't want it in her. She threw herself against the door again, this time seriously hurting herself as she slid down the door and unto the ground.

comments are always appreciated. I know this story might be upsetting. Stick around and see what happens. I promise you it's a good read.