Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. J. K. Rowling does.

Warning: I do believe my story might end up being a wee bit dark.

A/N: This chapter is a bit shorter than the others because I'm sick and my defiant brain doesn't like to comply with my demands to stay alert and fully conscious, haha. I hope you still like this chapter, though. Review! Reviews are highly treasured and appreciated. Encore merci, chers lecteurs.

Chapter Eight

Hermione gingerly fluttered her eyelashes, trying to ignore how the fine hairs on the back of her neck stood up as she woke up with an abrupt start. Rubbing her eyes with shaky hands, the small girl forced herself to block out her dizziness.

She felt as if she were caught in a nightmare as her blurry gaze looked around a darkened bedroom that she didn't recognize. Her head was spinning, and her heart was pounding in unreasonable fear. She closed her tired eyes, trying to remember where she was, and what she was doing. She tried stretching her sore limbs, and went momentarily still as she finally noticed a strong arm wrapped around her slim waist.

The small girl tried to calm herself and carefully spun around to see who was cradling her in such a tender embrace.

Hermione's eyes adjusted to the darkness and she was at last able to make out the face of Malfoy. She was completely shocked to realize they were both in the same bed. He looked so angelic while sleeping that she was tempted to run her fingers along his perfect smooth cheek, until memories began flooding back to her.

Memories of rough hands hurting her. Memories of someone brutally ripping through her virginity without care or mercy. Memories of extreme pain. Her eyes winded in realization. She jammed her fist into her mouth to stop herself from outright screaming and waking him. She tried very hard to hold back the overwhelming panic that was now consuming her, but in the end she let out a terrified scream, and began to push at her tormentor's chest.

He didn't budge.

It was almost as if his chest were a wall made out of stone. She felt so utterly helpless with his arm still draped around her. She shoved at his chest again, but this time she also clawed at his face in a desperate attempt to break free of his possessive grip.

. . .

Draco suddenly woke up with a groan and quickly became aware of his surroundings, specifically of a wailing mudblood trying to claw out his eyes. He removed his arm from her waist and placed it across his burning eyes to protect them from her nails. Before she could move or further harm him, he caught her wrists and slammed them down to the bed on either side of her head. He pinned her body with his weight, effortlessly holding her down.

Her terror filled screams increased in volume as she twisted underneath his overpowering strength. She closed her eyes shut and recalled being in a similar position when he was forcing something that was far too large into her petite body.

He couldn't think straight as he felt her small body bucking underneath his much larger one. The more she struggled, the more his body hardened. Her tantalizing scent combined with the feel of her delicate body was making it increasingly difficult for him to control himself. He felt as if he were caught in a dreamlike state in which his body had an agenda of its own.

"Enough, mudblood," he commanded in a harsh voice. He refused to acknowledge that a mudblood was arousing him, again. Bile rose in his mouth as he felt his body betray him and tighten in anticipation.

Tears began trailing down her face as she still kept screaming, thrashing, and unknowingly brushing her body against his, despite his warning.

Draco closed his eyes briefly, trying hard not to notice how his silk shirt that covered her slim body had risen up. He unexpectedly wished he had removed his clothing before he had succumbed to sleep. He wanted to feel her exposed soft skin pressed against his own. The warm little ragged breaths hitting his neck were driving him wild with need. He desperately wanted to bury himself inside her once again. Against his better judgment, he shifted his weight, nudging her bare slender legs apart to accommodate him.

Hermione stopped trashing and choked back a scream when she felt his intimidating hardness pressing against her exposed core. She couldn't breathe properly and turned her head away from his descending mouth. She gave a tortured cry of distress as her heartbeat raced in sheer terror.

The small gasping sounds that she was now making made Draco's blood turn into liquid fire. His searching lips finally made contact with hers. He dominated her mouth, his tongue delving deep as he thrust his hips forward. The only thing keeping him from taking her were his trousers.

His mouth left hers so he could trail kisses down her throat. He was losing control, his hips desperately thrusting as he swirled his tongue against the tempting pulse of her neck. The taste of her skin was just as addicting as her unique smell.

"Please... Stop," she softly begged with tears in her voice. The soreness in her core was increasing in discomfort and being amplified with his mindless thrusts. In her mind, she knew he wouldn't listen to her, yet there was a small part of her that hoped he would stop tormenting her.

Draco was barely able to make out the words of her small plea, but the evident despair he heard in her voice made him freeze as he felt his gut clench, and his chest constrict in pain.

He had to fight through layers of haze to break free of the sexual enthrallment he seemed to be under. He rolled off of her, to lie beside her with his eyes tightly closed. He wanted to howl in frustration at the conflicting emotions rushing through him, yet he remained perfectly quiet, struggling to regain control of his raging body.

His mind was in chaos. Why did her sadness bother him? Shouldn't he be the one bothered about his body's disgusting demands to bed a mudblood? He was furious that a witch with tainted blood could make him lose control so easily. Everything in his life was about control, yet mere seconds ago all the discipline and control he possessed had shattered because of her. Never in his life had he been so grateful for the invention of trousers.

A knock brought him out of his thoughts. He instantly turned his attention toward the ornate double wooden doors. He let out a curse, rising out of the bed. He slightly opened the doors, and was surprised to see a shivering house-elf. He had explicitly told all of the damn house-elves to not to approach his chambers.

"Didn't I tell your kind to stay away?" he asked in an aggravated tone. House-elves had always irritated him ever since he was a small boy. Their weakness and submissive nature irked him. The house-elf gave him a heartfelt apology and informed him that Gabriella Flanagan was impatiently waiting for him in his living room.

Once he heard the name of the tempting witch his anger disappeared. A smirk spread across his handsome face. Gabriella wasn't exactly beautiful, but she had a pleasant enough body, and most importantly she was a pure-blood. His body could use some much needed release.

After dismissing the servant, he closed the doors, turned on the light in the room, and turned around to look at the small witch. She was huddled against the elaborate wooden headboard of his bed. His black satin sheets were tightly wrapped around her tiny body.

Hermione pulled the sheets closer around her and shuddered when she saw his cold penetrating gaze land on her. She swallowed hard and blinked back tears as he began approaching her.

Draco could clearly read the fear radiating off of her. Her eyes were wide and staring at him in apprehension. He stopped right in front of the nightstand and withdrew a bracelet that he then threw at her.

"It's a portkey that will take you to my dorm room at school. Use it, and don't leave my dorm until I go back," he said in a nonchalant voice. He left his bedroom without bothering to see if she left or not.

Draco made his way into his living room where Gabriella was impatiently waiting for him. Gabriella Flanagan was a very persistent witch that always seemed to know when he visited the Malfoy Manor. He thought she was a bit too talkative for his taste, but tonight he didn't plan on doing too much talking.

"Gabriella," he said.

The tall brunette looked up at him from the couch. "I was beginning to wonder if you were purposely ignoring me, but then I thought to myself... Why would any sane wizard ever want to ignore this?" she coyly replied as she took off her coat to reveal a skimpy lace teddy.

A slow smirk teased the curve of his mouth as his grey eyes took in her barely concealed body. He rose a delicate silvery blond brow at her outfit. "Well, this is a pleasant surprise," he said in a husky voice.

She laughed and stood up to wrap her body around his. "Do you like what you see? I picked this outfit just for you. I remember blue being your favorite color," she whispered into his ear.

Draco had to suppress a laugh at her terrible seduction attempt. He hated the color blue, and just thinking about that certain color made unwelcome memories swarm over him, memories of blue tinged blood.

Her blood. His blood. Their blood.

He mentally shook his head; he didn't want to think about the mudblood. "I think I'd like to see you on your knees," he said. She did as he asked and it wasn't long before they joined their bodies.

After they were done, Draco harshly told her to leave. Every time he slept with a witch, he didn't want them to stick around for long because they had a tendency of suddenly becoming sentimental and clingy, despite his clear warnings that he didn't believe in relationships.

He went to his bedroom to wash away his sweat drenched body. As the water cascaded down his lean and muscular body he couldn't stop thinking about a certain little witch.

Even though he just had sex, his body still yearned for her touch.

. . .

Hermione did use the portkey, but she didn't stay in his dorm like he told her to. She quickly made her way to her dorm room, ignoring the uncomfortable soreness between her thighs.

She was horrified at what Draco had done to her. Deep down she knew that he wouldn't stop trying to make her his again. It was like he thought he owned her body. She despised him. Despised what he had done to her. He had made her his own personal whore.

Her throat clogged with emotion as she finally realized that he would force her again and there was nothing she could do about it. He was too strong for her. She went to the small living room, wrote a note to her best friend, Luna, and placed it inside the pocket of her pink jacket that was hanging in the small closet. She knew Luna would find it eventually. After all, it was her favorite jacket that Hermione had bought for her last year.

She returned to her room to take off the oversized silk shirt. After hurriedly putting on comfortable travelling clothes and packing her most treasured items, she left.

. . .

After showering and going over some documents in his study in the Malfoy Manor, Draco materialized into his Slytherin dorm room. He had this weird feeling coiling in the pit of his stomach, but he ignored it as he began looking for the object of his ever increasing desire.

He searched everywhere in his room, yet he couldn't find her. He even went to her dorm room and noticed that most of her belongings were gone from her bedroom.

He felt an intense rage come over him as he finally realized what she had done. A predatory gleam entered his stormy grey eyes. She was severely mistaken if she truly thought she could simply run from him.

She belonged to him.

He swore he would find her, and when he did he would make her regret ever denying him his right to her body.