Hermione had to convince Draco that she was on his side, but she wasn't sure how to start. If she were too enthusiastic, then he'd know something was going on. She'd have to act just reluctant enough that Draco would assume he was breaking her.

She hated being in this room. This place where she had what seemed like a lifetime ago been tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange. But she grit her teeth together and refused to let the painful memories show on her face.

The room was a long rectangle with black wood floors, walls and ceiling. The iron chandelier that Dobby had broken had been repaired and hung above her. An elegantly carved table and its matching chairs had been pushed up against the wall. It smelled of freshly brewed coffee, and faintly of something like sweat or maybe blood. Hermione shivered from the chilly air let in by the open window.

"At least I didn't have to drag you out of your room today?" Draco sneered as he stepped into the room, shoes snapping on the hardwood floor. How did he always look so put-together, so totally in control. He wasn't like this at Hogwarts, but then who hadn't changed since then? Even she had. A lot, if she really thought about it.

"Can we get started or are we going to chat all day?"

He just shook his head. "Have you ever done a dark spell?"

"No."

"Well, let's start with an easier one than the cruciatus curse. I'm not sure you could manage it."

She stepped toward him, her eyes narrowed. "Want to find out?"

This bad attitude thing was easier than she thought. She could just do what he wanted, for the most part, and be pissed about it. That should work.

"Maybe later, lovely."

Her stomach flipped. What did Draco Malfoy just call me?

"Well what are we doing then if not the cruciatus?" Hermione changed the subject as quickly as she could.

"The Imperius Curse."

Hermione felt better about that. It wasn't a particularly nice thing to do to a person, but it was far superior to torturing or murdering someone. Harry had even used it at Gringotts when they were trying to get into Bellatrix Lestrange's vault.

"Fine," she said and slumped back against the wall.

Draco tossed her wand and she caught it.

"Don't even think about cursing me, Granger. Whatever that wand tries to do to me, will rebound on you."

Hermione shook her head in surprise. "That's impossible."

"Give it a try."

The way he looked back at her, so focused, eyes so silver they were like coins. Fierce and she couldn't help but believe him.

"How?" she asked.

"Magic." He winked and slid toward her with a grace and smoothness that sent a shiver from each toe up her skin to the tips of her fingers. She swallowed and looked away.

"I figured," she said as casually as possible. "But I've never heard of a spell like that before."

Draco put his hands in the pockets of his grey trousers and glanced out the open window. "That's because I created it, Granger."

"You?" she snorted.

His gaze whipped back to her, blazing, terrifying… she'd never thought she'd say that about Draco, but Merlin, fear shocked right between her sternum. He was no longer boy to be trifled with. This was a deeply and thoroughly altered Draco Malfoy.

But could it be a better one?

"I do not care if you're surprised. It makes no difference to me if you think I'm a fool now. But you will learn that I am not." He tucked two fingers under her chin and forced her to look directly at him.

Her mouth went dry.

"Back to our lesson, Granger."

She swallowed, unable to find oxygen, unable to think. Hermione nodded.

"Crabbe, come in here."

The big lump of a man waddled into the room. "Yes, sir."

"Stand there." Draco pointed to the middle of the room. "Begin, Granger."

"You want me to…"

Draco leaned and whispered against her ear, hoarse, gruff. "If you don't, I'll bring Longbottom in here."

Hermione tugged away from Draco, anger surging in her chest. She bit the inside of her cheek and pointed the wand at Crabbe.

"W-what's she doing?" Crabbe stumbled back.

"Did I tell you to move?" Draco barked at Crabbe, his arms folded across his chest.

"No, sir."

"Then shut it," Draco hissed through his teeth.

Hermione drew in a breath, trying re-orient herself and prepare for a kind of spell that she was very much against. People's wills should be there own and it was wrong to try and control them. That said, she had to make it convincing so she and Neville could continue spying for the Order.

"Imperio," she whispered. A strange smoke filled Crabbe's nose and his body slumped, but the effects only lasted a few seconds.

"Not terrible, Granger." Draco raised a groomed eyebrow, his rigid body as unreadable as ever. "Again."

She didn't need or want compliments from Draco, but right now wasn't about what she wanted or needed, it was about what she had to do for the sake of the friends she had that were still out there fighting against Voldemort.

Hermione refocused and cast, "Imperio."

The smoke filled Crabbe's nose again, but this time she could feel the power of the spell burning in her veins. She made Crabbe stand on one leg, rub his stomach and pat his head, she made him quack like a duck. Run in circles.

"Adequate, Granger. You may stop now."

Crabbe stumbled forward as he regained control of his own body. "Stupid mudblood," he spat. "What'd ya think your doing?" He pointed his wand out and as soon as he did, Draco wordlessly disarmed him.

Crabbe's wand clattered across the floor, echoing in the room.

"Do not speak to her," Draco hissed. "Now pick up your wand and get out of here. Now!"

Quickly, Crabbe did as he was told.

"Hermione Granger… has now done the worst thing she's ever done." Draco laughed coldly. Hermione laughed back.

"You have no idea what I've done."

"You mean how you trapped Rita Skeeter as an animagus in a jar and blackmailed her into helping Potter. Or how you created that curse that would make anyone who betrayed your precious Dumbledore's Army break into boils. Or how about the time you lured Dolores Umbridge into the Forbidden Forest and left her to the centaurs."

Hermione's heart pounded wildly as Draco was now just inches from her. The back of his hand ran across her cheek. She wanted to slap his touch away but she felt frozen.

"Didn't you ever wonder," Draco whispered in Hermione's ear, "what those centaurs did Professor Umbridge?" He stepped back, his body as rigid as steel. "You don't wonder. You knew when you left her there."

"SHUT UP!" she shouted, her voice cracking. Hermione wasn't feigning anger now. "I didn't – I don't… I did what was necessary."

"As did I!" Draco's arms locked behind his back; he looked at Hermione with that rich, regal Malfoy air. "So stop acting like you're so much better than me, Granger. Because we have more in common than you can possibly imagine."

Hands fisted at her sides, she stepped forward. "I am nothing like you, you sick, murderous bastard."

Draco closed the distance between them. His hand falling on the side of her face, the other on her hip. He was strong enough to lock her in place. Fear jolted through her body. What was he going to do to her?

"You're not going to speak to me like that anymore."

"And why not?"

Draco's hands dropped away. "Because you're not going to let Longbottom get hurt."

Anger burned inside Hermione's chest, but she did her best to ignore it. This was a chance to do what Neville had asked and make it seem like he was getting to her.

"Yes," she hissed.

"Yes, what?"

There was something so hard, so cold, so incredibly controlling in his eyes, she could hardly believe this was Draco Malfoy.

"Yes, sir."

His lips twitched into a smirk. "I'll see you tonight. I've got work to do."

With that, Draco strode out of the room, beating a perfect rhythm on the hardwood floor. Not one extra step or one unnecessary move. Hermione couldn't even begin to understand that man.

Hermione was sitting on the bed in the room she shared with Malfoy, her knees brought into her chest. She was running her fingers over the grooves in her jeans, feeling the roughness of the fabric.

The door squeaked open and she tensed, expecting Draco. Her body relaxed when she saw the dark hair and dark eyes of Neville Longbottom.

"I'm sorry about today."

"Don't be." She slid off the bed. "It was just the imperious curse. It could have been much worse." The terrible things Hermione had done flashed through her mind, but she forced the memories away.

"I don't have long. I have to go on patrols tonight." He stared down at his black boots. "Just wanted to check and make sure you were okay."

She reached out and touched his wrist. Hermione was glad to live in a world of human touch again, but every time she felt skin against her skin, it was like the hairs, the cells, every atom of her body was imploding and exploding and starting new universes from her toes to the tip of her head.

"I'm fine, really Neville. I want to help and this is how I can help. I'm not weak."

"That's not what I meant Hermione. That could never be…" Neville took her fingers in his and squeezed. "We'll get out of here. We'll find Harry and … Ron and it'll be okay again."

Hermione swallowed. "We just need patience."

"Yes, patience," he said, looking down at her. Hermione never noticed just how tall Neville had gotten until he was leaning over her, wrapping her in his shadow.

"You should go before Malfoy comes."

Neville nodded once and straightened his back. That wave of military, of Death Eater rigidity washed over him, as he turned on his heel, almost exactly as Draco had and walked out the door.

It wasn't just Draco that had changed. It was Neville too, and it had been Draco that changed him. Even if in just small ways. Hermione could not let that happen to her.

Hermione fell asleep on the bed, the one Draco usually slept on. She heard the door squeak open and then saw Draco's silhouette through her barely open eyes.

His grey eyes shimmered as they turned toward you. "I didn't mean to wake you," his voice was quiet, a near whisper.

Hermione went to stand up and move to the alcove where she normally slept.

"Just stay there. It's fine."

She almost wanted to protest, but her limbs were heavy with exhaustion and she just didn't have it in her to argue with him. Hermione settled back into the pillows.

Draco's fingers started working the buttons of his shirt.

"What are you doing?" her voice squeaked.

"Calm down, Granger. I'm just changing."

"In front of me."

He laughed. "Is my beauty too much for you to bear?"

Hermione couldn't make an answer form on her lips. For a second, a smile peeled onto her face. He seemed like the old Draco in that moment and it shouldn't have brought her comfort but in a strange way it did. Like maybe his true self was buried underneath all of this – that maybe that meant hers was too.

Draco pulled his shirt off and folded it nicely into a laundry basket. Hermione bit down on her tongue as he unbuttoned her pants and pushed them off. Once again he folded them and put them in the basket.

Hermione was transfixed by such perfection and control in every movement. He was standing in front of her in nothing but black boxer-briefs and socks. Draco scratched his neck, stretching the tight muscles along his abdomen that were lit lightly by the moon.

For a moment, he turned and let his eyes linger on Hermione. She felt suddenly exposed and pulled a pillow into her lap, even though he was the one with no clothes on. Why did he have to insist on them staying in the same room together? It was creepy – and controlling – or maybe something else. In that look in his eyes in the dark as she was being pulled towards sleep made her wonder, made her worry that maybe Draco wanted her for more than her magical powers.

What if that's what she had to give him to get the information the Order of Phoenix needed to stop Voldemort?

A/N: Sorry about the wait on this. I'll try to update quicker. It's going to get "steamier" between Draco and Hermione in the next chapters, but I don't want to take it too quickly. Please review and let me know what you think so far and what you think is going to happen and what you want to happen. Thanks again!