** Hermione's 'little sister' has a terrible obsession with a certain sexy Slytherin. Hermione goes psycho, Draco gets even, and Ron just looks stupid… Again.**

Threatening the Mudblood

Draco had spent the entire evening, grinning darkly.

He was incredibly eager to start acting out his plan, yet simultaneously conflicted by the thought of how she would react if he waited a while- dragged it out.

Because he knew the little book worm would drive herself crazy. She was always full of thoughts on goodness and right and wrong. And Draco was definitely one of those 'wrong' definitions to her. He may as well be the devil reincarnate. That was what made it so great. The thought that he, so wrong as he was, would harm her poor 'little sister.'

It would drive the Mudblood mental.

She'd be sat there, right now, fretting. Pondering whether to report him. But of course she would have nothing to base her theory on. He had done nothing but aid a younger student; Snape would back that up. No. All he would have to do was feign innocence and she would be the one getting the punishment. Spreading slander would not be looked upon lightly and with her favourite professor as Headmistress… Well, Granger was not about to run off to her at any rate.

No. All Draco would have to do is wait. Give her dark glances from across the hall at lunch, make snide comments and, above all, ensure that he had a little flirt with the Mouse-girl whenever Granger was there to witness it.

Draco sighed contently, crossing his arms behind his head and leaning back. He was a frigging genius.

Although he was Head Boy, Draco had taken to sticking with the Slytherins in his old common room. No way was he about to spend his evening blinding himself with glances of Granger. Despite the knowledge that autumn had been and nearly gone, he still wasn't risking those shorts. Those shorts made him want things he shouldn't. Those shorts made him sick to the stomach. Those shorts made him hate himself. When really he should only, ever hate her.

Having waited up till past midnight, most of the students were now in bed. Blaise had sauntered off with a Ravenclaw girl earlier in the evening and he really couldn't give a toss where Goyle now was.

He sighed, supposing that he'd better get back. The goody-goody would be in bed by now anyway so his plan to avoid her had remained successful. He smirked to himself as he languidly stood from the sofa. He winked at one of the only female students still awake, noticing she had been turning around every now and then to look at him. He couldn't be certain whether he had bedded her before or not but she smiled back, blushing all the same.

He grabbed his robes from where they were draped across the back of the sofa and headed to the portrait hole. Granger was going to see what happened when people messed with the Prince of Slytherin. And Draco was their prince. He was mother-fucking-royalty to them. So how dare she interfere?

It was the Golden Trio's fault that his father was in prison. She should have repented, turned to him and apologised for all the grief they had caused him. But instead she only added to it. Merlin, how much he fucking hated her. Hated her for who she was and what she was and worst of all was that she had been idiotically dubbed Gryffindor Princess. Princess my arse! Granger didn't possess enough decorum to be classed Game's Keeper Assistant, let alone a pissing Princess!

The only thing that she had going for her was her brains… And, if he had his way, he was going to mess with her head so badly they'd self-combust.

He smiled devilishly as he approached their shared common room. The remarkably pretty woman in the portrait smiled broadly at him as he approached. It was clear she had a secret prejudice against Mudloods… Either that or she just particularly hated Granger. She had been continuously commenting on Granger's appearance since day one of the new school year. Something Draco had taken great satisfaction from witnessing.

The pretty witch in the portrait would make snide comments about Granger's hair, always under the guise of genuine concern. She would comment on how big her robes were, how full her bag was and… more recently, the comments had become boy orientated. Questions as to why she never brought a guy up to the common room. The answer was obvious. She didn't have one… and no guy wanted her.

The woman waved her painted fingers in a flirtatious gesture, as she swung open to let him into their quarters. He was smirking widely and was so happy with himself he almost didn't notice the atrocity sitting on the sofa. Granger… In those fucking shorts.

His nose crumpled as he took her in, she regarded him silently in return. He felt sick at the sight of her. That slender, teasing body and all of it was wasted because dirty blood ran beneath that skin- blood that made her everything that was wrong in the world.

He glowered at her as she stared back before he decided to stick to his mission. Avoid Granger and her stupid shorts as all costs. Get up the stairs and into your room and away from the air that she shares with you.

Bile rose in his throat as he stormed away, seeing the simmering flames of anger in her eyes. He paused as he came level with the sofa, her head having turned to follow his every step. He questioned for a moment whether he should stay and exert an angry tantrum from the Mudblood. He didn't have time to decide because she spoke first, having decided that he absolutely 'should' stay.

"What are you playing at Malfoy?"

And her words were covered in a layer of hatred so thick that he could almost taste it.

"I'm going to bed Mudblood…" he spat the word with emphasis. "Why, what are you doing?"

Not that he cared, and she knew that.

"What are you doing with Emilie?"

That's right. Cut to the chase Granger. Don't get into a conversation with me because you know I'll fire you up. Piss you off so much you want to hex me. But you know that you can't so it results in your tears. The same as every other time.

And oh yes Granger. I know about the tears. And no I know you never show them to me. You keep them collected like fucking gems. But no. I know that you sob yourself stupid at night, every time we have one of these 'tiffs.' So I'm definitely going to drag this out. I'm definitely getting you speaking, pissing you off and hopefully you'll cry your fucking heart out. Maybe you'll bloody drown yourself in them. Merlin knows the last time this happened there must have been enough of them!

He had spent the night picking away at her, winding her up and pissing her off until she drew her wand, her hand shaking in the frustration of knowing she couldn't use the damn thing. He had laughed in her face then, as she'd run up the stairs. That night she had kept him awake for hours with her crying… So he'd started on her again, the moment she woke the next morning.

"I don't know what you're talking about…" Draco mocked her in a falsely innocent voice. "You're looking positively frightful tonight Granger… Any thing on your mind?"

He smirked again and watched as she balled her fists into the sofa beside her. He bit his tongue to stop himself from laughing, because she was transparent. He could see what she was thinking, could see the theories flashing across her mind. He sneered at her as she grit her teeth together.

"You know what I mean Malfoy. Stop being an utter arse and be serious for a moment." she warned him, trying to remain composed. "You need to leave Emilie alone."

Draco stared at her for a moment, forcing a blank look upon his face.

"… Which one was Emilie?"

He questioned after a contemplative pause. He had too bite his tongue to stop himself from smiling widely and laughing at the outraged look on Granger's face. Classic Granger outrage- a brilliant form of entertainment.

"You know who she is Malfoy!"

She yelled back, suddenly on her feet and Draco smirked at her. She was taking the bait like fish. She was storming towards him in seconds and he stood, leaning his weight on one side of his body, his robes still bunched in his left hand, and waited.

He watched as she stopped before him, her eyes simmering and firing daggers at him. Even her hair seemed to respond to her anger by making itself more ghastly and frizzy than usual.

"Are you sure you're quite alright Granger? Only, you're looking very flushed…" And right on queue she ground her teeth together, waiting for his smirk, which came at the next second. "Or is that just from being around me?"

"Believe it or not Malfoy, not every witch thinks you're God's gift on this earth!"

She almost shrieked at him and he couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips.

"Oh really Granger? I wouldn't be so sure about that…"

And he was looking down his nose at her, smirking when she interrupted.

"You are vile! Vile and disgusting! And above all you're a fucking coward!"

The smirk fell from his lips immediately, because it absolutely was not ok for her to say things like that to someone like him.

"You're probably even worst than your father. You think it makes you a bad-ass because you have a Dark Mark on your arm Malfoy? Well it doesn't! We all got scars from that war. I bet even your precious, idiot mother has them!"

And it was absolutely, positively not ok for her to say things about them; his father, who'd been put away and his mother, who was now stuck at home.

"Don't you dare call my mother an idiot Mudblood!"

And the hiss that came from him was dark and a warning, because at that moment he really would not hesitate to hurt her. Rip the frizzy hair from her head and that tongue from her mouth because she needed to shut up about things she knew nothing about. And she should have headed his warning. She was the brightest witch of their age after all. But instead she went on, making his body shake in fury.

"Well she has to be an idiot if she wound up marrying your father!"

Granger was snapping back and he could see the anger in her eyes like he felt it mounting in his body.

"Your parents are scum Malfoy! Just like you! And I say it because I know for a fact that it's true! You let the Death Eaters in and that was just for starters. You were there that time I was tortured Malfoy! And you didn't lift a finger to stop it!"

She shrieked at him and for moments all he could do was stare back; didn't trust his quivering body to move without smacking her across the face.

"I bet you even enjoyed it didn't you?"

And his hand moved from nowhere and apparently he'd been right not to trust his body, because his hand grabbed a fistful of her frightful hair. His wand was at her throat, digging into it before she could turn hers to him. He loomed down into her, forcing her head back, her knees having to bend to accommodate with the position.

A small yelp betrayed her before she clamped her lips together, trying not to whimper in pain as he felt a few hairs pull away from her scalp. He was furious, his body shaking and his wand pressed hard into her throat. His hand shook with the rest of him as he tried to calm himself, tried to stop himself from hexing the wench, even though every part of him was crying out to do so.

'Use your words Draco. Use your wit and drive it into her so deep, she'll want to rip her own skin off just to get it out.'

He told himself as her wide eyes stared up at his, terrified.

"That's right Mudblood."

He told her slowly, not even sounding like himself. He watched her eyes fly wider and her lips part and he knew that those three words had driven in deeper how much trouble she was in… How much danger she was in.

"I enjoyed it." His nose twitched and his lip curled in disgust at her, too close for comfort but knowing it was necessary. If he tried to move, if he tried to do anything before he had absolute knowledge that she was as sorry as she possibly could be for anything she may think, and anything she had just said about him and his family, then he felt something worse than bad would happen. Maybe he'd even kill her? And wouldn't that serve her right?

"Can't say as I enjoyed it that much when they cut you… But I'm pretty sure everyone vomits at the sight of your blood."

He had not really been sick at the sight of it all. He had vomited later, once the Trio had escaped the manor. When Draco had been left to stare at the puddle of blood in that cold room and listen to the memory of her screams… screams that would haunt him.

"Malfoy…"

She barely breathed it, her eyes watered in pain at how hard he was pulling her hair. But he cut her off. Needed to make her sorry she'd ever fucking crossed his path.

"Why should I have stopped them Granger? When you know that I reveled in it."

A lie. A downright, ungodly lie, but she didn't need to know it.

"I enjoyed watching them hurt you, cut you. I enjoyed hearing you scream and watching you cry."

And his lies might just consume him, because he felt sick again and this time not all because of her.

"So why should I have stopped them Granger? Why shouldn't I carry it on now for that matter?"

That delicious leap of fear as her body jolted, trying to bolt from his grip, only to result in more hair ripping from her head, and more pain. He could taste her fear in the air around them and for a moment he saw her memories of the event play out in her eyes, just like they were in his head.

And he'd never really do it. He wasn't as sick and insane-crazy as his aunt had been and even then he doubted he would ever really do it. But in that moment, in that delicious, fear-filled moment, she didn't need to know that. In fact she never needed to know that. Let her fear him all the time because right now, in that moment, he was reveling in it.

"Perhaps I should do it… Carry it on…"

Because the words were definitely too much to add along with the memories.

"Then send you on your merry little way to Potty and Weasel."

He suggested, a slight smirk back on his lips now. Less shaking now he was winning.

"You'd like that wouldn't you?"

What?

Because she wasn't supposed to be speaking. She was supposed to be fearful, frightened… scared. But not speaking. Not answering back.

"What?"

And this time he spat the word because she didn't seem to be enlightening him without him doing so.

"You'd like that wouldn't you? If Harry and Ron came looking for you…" And she was staring straight up at him. Still scared, oh yes there was definitely still that delicious morsel of fear but she was staring and snapping back at him just the same.

He stopped his eyes from roaming. Because wasn't she supposed to be smart?

"In your own, sick little way, you'd love to have Harry and Ron breaking down the door to get to you… To hurt you."

And yes, he really would love them too, because one hit from them and he could claim self-defense. He could claim self-defense after tearing them limb from bloody limb.

"Because you're that desperate aren't you Malfoy? In your own twisted way, you need them to hit you. You need them to beat you down. Because really, what you need is to feel punished. To receive a punishment after all the fucked up things you've done."

What?

Because his eyes had flown wide and it seemed the only word he was able to think around this girl.

"And I'm right aren't I? Because who wouldn't want punishing after the fuck ups you've made Malfoy? But you're not using them to get it. And you're damn well, not using me!"

And she tried to struggle, went to use her wand even though he didn't know how he knew. He knocked it from her with a swipe of his own wand, millimetres from her throat still. The fear was gone.

She was looking up at him with those brown, calculating eyes. They watched him as he stared back at her, trying to work out his next move, because he certainly wasn't winning anymore. He needed that taste back. Needed to feel her fear in the air but all he could taste was the bile rising at the back of his throat.

There was an unnatural silent for several seconds, before the taste in his mouth made him open it, bringing up words that he had no idea he would speak. He spoke coldly, slowly, emphasis on every syllable.

"That Emilie girl…"

Just three words and it was all it took to make him victorious again.

"If I didn't know who she was before…"

Which of course he did.

"I am damn well going to find out now!"

And with a final growl he finished all he had to say to her. All he hopefully ever had to say to her. He suddenly let her hair go and dropped her. He watched as she fell heavily to the floor, hard. He couldn't even manage a smirk, more of a grimace as his eyes swept over her, disgusted.

He turned away, leaving her sprawled on the floor where he'd dropped her. She would have to watch herself from now on because now he was going to put every waking moment into destroying her. He climbed the stairs to his room, silently. He didn't even glance back to make a snide comment about those god-awful shorts.