A/N: I know this chapter has been a long time coming. It took me a long time and a lot of rewriting to get past the writers block I ran into. I know where I want this story to go, and finally I think it's on track to get there. For those of you who stuck with me, THANK YOU. Please let me know what you all think :)

Chapter 7

Hermione did not leave the room that day. For the first time in her school career, she intentionally skipped every single class. She didn't move from her position on her makeshift bed. She couldn't bring herself to unwrap her arms from around her legs. She couldn't bear to open her eyes, but keeping them shut was a worse torture. She couldn't erase him from the backs of her eyes.

She didn't know what time it was when Draco eased his way into the room. She only glanced up to determine that it wasn't the man who had haunted her all day, and then her eyes sank back to the floor. Finally a single tear leaked down her cheek, rolling down her face and dropping to the floor as if in slow motion.

Draco stared at her in complete silence. For the first time in his life he was truly conflicted. He knew that she was disgusting. That being a mudblood was unacceptable. That was not going to change. But looking at her, broken, alone, and hurt, all he saw was his mother. Narcissa Malfoy had looked exactly the same after one time when his father had come home intoxicated from a Death Eater celebration. He didn't know exactly what had occurred that night, but his mother had never been exactly the same. The dark circles beneath her eyes became a constant feature. Her beautiful blond hair has since hung limp beside her pale face. His mother's eyes seemed haunted, like they couldn't quite see past whatever memories attacked her thoughts.

And now this girl, this abomination, had that look in her eyes. He had seen it the moment that she had glanced up. He couldn't believe it, but it was stirring up the same protective feelings he had felt for his mother. The same defiance. The same hatred for whatever man caused this. And he knew who had done it. There was no doubt in his mind, and he wanted to retaliate. He wanted to defend her so much that he nearly shook with the emotion, but it was almost treason to defend a mudblood in any context. He couldn't do it. He couldn't betray his ideals like that.

"Granger," he finally said in the most stern voice he could muster. She didn't even flinch. "Granger," he repeated. She didn't move, but he knew she was listening now. "You need to try to forget about whatever happened." It didn't escape her notice that this was not an order. "You're a wreck. You need to leave this room tomorrow. Can't have you killing yourself." And with that final comment, she listened to him cross to his bed and slide beneath the silken sheets. Hermione listened as his breathing slowly evened out as he fell asleep. His breaths became her lifeline. Inhale. Another tear rolled down her cheek. Exhale. Tears began raining down to the floor unhindered. Inhale. Exhale. Silently Hermione began sobbing. Gasping for her own breaths. Inhale. Why? Why had this all had to happen to her? Why couldn't it have been someone else? Anyone else? Exhale. Inhale. She took a deep breath along with the sleeping man. Exhaling as he did. And then Dumbledore's words came back to her. 'Maybe all of my pain has a purpose,' she thought. 'Maybe something good can come out of this.'

As she tried desperately to hold on to that one positive thought, images of Blaise sprung up before her eyes. Hermione nearly shrieked aloud. His grunts, his smells, his body again flooded her senses. It was as though it were happening all over again. Sweat coated her body as her mind relived the feeling of him thrusting into her over and over. "Please stop," her own hoarse voice whispered. But her mind continued her agony. Forcing her to recreate every single detail. The shape of the rough stones beneath her body. The way her eyes grew accustomed to the darkness slowly, revealing the shadowy face of her captor. The smallest of pulls in the threads of his shirt. The feeling of each cut opening. Each bruise forming. The slickness of her own blood against her palms. Every portion of the memory as clear as though it were happening that very moment. "Please!" she moaned quietly.

Unbeknownst to the distraught, tortured girl, Draco stirred at the sound of her voice. He lay awake staring blankly into the darkness, listening to her anguish. He was unable to block out her pain. Unable to rationalize it as the sounds of a filthy mudblood. Instead he heard the moaning of a young woman in a mental hell. But what could he do? He hadn't been raised to know how to comfort the weak! And so long after the exhausted girl finally, mercifully passed out into a fitful sleep, Draco Malfoy lay awake conflicted.

The next morning when he woke up, the first thing he noticed was that Hermione was no longer in his room. He got ready for class and headed toward the Great Hall for breakfast. Nearing a corner, he began to hear raised voices and he slowed his pace to a stop.

"Didn't see you at all yesterday Hermione. Fucking them is getting in the way of schoolwork now?" Ron Weasley's voice came echoing down toward him.

Her sharp intake of breath was enough for the redhead. "You were fucking them!" Then his volume dropped so much that Draco had to strain to hear him. "You enjoy being the Slytherin whore. Feeling their slimy bodies all over you. Inside of you. You disgust me. I wish I'd actually beaten the shit out of you like that. You deserve it."

After hearing something hit the wall, and listening to Weasley's retreating footsteps, Draco finally emerged. Hermione sat on the floor against the stone wall, sobbing. The protective feeling roared back to life in his chest. He wanted to crush Weasley for this. As he approached the distraught girl, her sobs quieted. She didn't look up as he stopped beside her.

"Can't you ever just go away?"

Draco was shocked. She hadn't spoken back in what seemed like forever. Maybe this girl was stronger than he had thought. Without saying a word, he turned his back on her and left her alone. He hadn't really known what he was going to say or do anyways. This was probably for the best.

He arrived at the Great Hall to the usual scene. Potter and Weasley glaring at him from the opposite side of the room. His usual seat remained open between Blaise and Pansy. Out of habit, he sat, grabbed his pastries, eggs, sausage and pumpkin juice. He began eating without thinking when suddenly his eagle owl dropped down in front of him. Apprehensively he unrolled the scroll and fed a small piece of sausage to his owl. Blaise and Pansy watched him closely for any signs of the scrolls contents, but to any outside observer, he didn't so much as blink. Calmly, he pulled out a quill, scratched down a few words, rerolled the scroll, and attached it back to his owl's leg. All three watched the bird rise into the air and out a nearby window.

The three Slytherin's grabbed their belongings and got to their feet. "Next Hogsmeade weekend looks like I'm going to be in for some fun." Draco said nonchalantly as they headed toward their first class of the day.

It had taken almost a week for her to attempt to leave the room again. Hermione received a lot of extra work for her absence from classes, but all except for McGonnagal accepted her excuse that she had been ill without too much questioning. McGonnagal however seemed to have developed a distinct dislike for her former star pupil. She was promptly given two weeks detention to be fulfilled with Filch. Hermione actually appreciated the extra work and detentions. It gave her something to keep her mind busy as she built up a wall against the memory.

The next two weeks passed altogether uneventfully. She completed all of her extra work in a staggering two days, putting her back in the good graces of the majority of her teachers, and at the end of her string of detentions, McGonnagal was forced to begrudgingly accept that Hermione had done her time without so much as a complaint. (Although the professor was secretly saddened that the young woman hadn't quoted the clause in the rules of Hogwarts that allowed students up to one week to self medicate an illness. It was further proof that her old Hermione Granger was now simply a shadow of her old fiery, knowledgeable personality. )

There had been no new developments with Hermione and her old friends. In fact, no one even noticed her existence anymore. The teachers had long since stopped their sad expectant glances hoping for her obnoxious know-it-all hand waving. According to Draco's suspicious mutterings, Harry and Ron had actually been frequenting the library. Hermione could only assume they were looking for any kind of information they could find that could help them against Voldemort. She doubted that they were there today, as it was finally a Hogsmeade weekend. Nothing could keep those boys in a library.

For a moment, her thoughts brought her back to how things used to be. The annoying but oddly loveable Ron, who though he got easily angered, was fiercely loyal and recklessly brave. And then Harry. Her best friend. The boy who had saved her life countless times. She had thought that it would always be the ridiculously named "Golden Trio" and that they would be by each other's sides until death tore them apart kicking and screaming. It saddened her that this war that could so easily bring the three of them together, could so easily shred everything that they had created. She knew they needed her to succeed. She wasn't sure she had the strength or the will to oppose her captors like that anymore. After everything, how could anyone expect her to continue fighting?

Draco's tense, angry voice broke her from her train of thoughts as she sat in her usual place atop her makeshift bed. "Granger. Meet me in Hogsmeade in the alleyway second from the path leading to the Shrieking Shack by quarter past 10. Do not be seen. If you screw that up, you will wish you were dead. I swear on my mother's soul." And with that he slammed from the bedroom, his robes cracking like a whip behind him. Hermione stared at the door where the man had disappeared, slightly shocked. He hadn't spoken to her like that since before…her ordeal. She had noticed the darkening circles underneath his eyes, and the weight he now seemed to carry on his shoulders. This must be something to do with that, and that made her scared. What was going to happen in that alley this morning? Close to the Shrieking Shack meant they were in the middle of nowhere. Anything could happen to her and no one would be able to stop it or to even be aware something was happening.

But alas, an order was an order. It wasn't as though she could resist it in the end. Even the thought of resistance made sweat break out across her forehead. She could feel an invisible collar closing around her throat and pin pricks beginning all over her arms. Shaking her head, she began to plan how to arrive at the meeting place unseen. Immediately the feelings began to fade. Apparently his annoyance merely strengthened the power of this order. She certainly wasn't going to disobey him this time. The spell might cause her serious injuries if she even considered it.

Her plan ended up being quite simple. The lack of attention she received from the school body these days was actually going to work in her favor. The only two she needed to avoid were Harry, Ron, and Ginny, and those three would never leave before 9. Glancing up at the clock, Hermione spotted that she was exactly on schedule. She grabbed her wand and threw on a pair of jeans and a sweater. As a last minute decision, she snatched her robes and put those on as well. Opting against exiting the castle from the front door, Hermione made her way quickly through the now familiar dungeons and out a side entrance set off the beaten path. She took a very wide track around the castle grounds and neared the road to Hogsmeade from the side closest the Forbidden Forest.

Careful to not drag attention to herself, Hermione stepped out among the slow, steady stream of students out for an early start to their weekend. Everything seemed to be going according to plan. And that's when she noticed a recognizable girl's voice coming up behind her. Ginny and a few other Gryffindor girls from that year had apparently decided to do some early Christmas shopping if their giggling voices were to be understood. Hermione picked up the pace the slightest bit, but was too late. The giggling stopped.

"Is that who I think it is?" she heard Ginny growl somewhere behind her. Luckily there was a group of Hufflepuffs right beside her and Hermione quickly sidestepped in front of them. Grabbing her wand in her robe pocket, a string of mumbled words began to flow from her mouth. Almost immediately her hair began to straighten and turn black. She felt a body push against her as Ginny shoved her way through the group. As a last precaution, boils erupted all over her face just as Ginny looked straight at her.

"Oh I'm sorry." Ginny said with a grimace. "I could have sworn I saw Granger right here. I guess I'm seeing things." With a few last apologies to the disgruntled Hufflepuffs, Ginny returned to her own friends a few steps behind.

Shaken by the close call, Hermione decided she would have to step it up. Harry would never have fallen for that trick so easily, and if Ginny was already out, who knew if the boys would be coming soon. As she and the Hufflepuffs rounded a turn, Hermione dropped back into the trees. After removing the boils and returning her hair to normal, she slowly began working her way through the complicated Disillusionment charm. She wouldn't quite be invisible, but it should be enough to go unnoticed in the hustle and bustle of Hogsmeade. Instead of rejoining the road, she picked her way along the edge of the forest. Hiding amongst the shadows of the trees would be much easier.

Her choice turned out to be for the best. As she neared the outskirts of the village Harry and Ron came lumbering up the road. They were their usual selves, just as she remembered them. Ron was complaining loudly about a Quidditch match and Harry listened on with a decent amount of interest while still scanning his surroundings. Her heart skipped a beat when his eyes seemed to linger a half second longer on her hiding spot amongst the trees and bushes, but they moved on entering the town heading in the direction of Zonko's Joke Shop. Their usual first stop. Luckily she was headed the other direction and soon she was alone, walking the empty streets of the run-down portion of town. Before she knew it, she had passed the end of town and was forced to backtrack.

Draco was already there, leaning nonchalantly against a wall. She saw him stiffen as the noise of her footsteps echoed down the alley. For a moment she watched him slowly scanning back and forth, looking for any sign of whatever had caused the sound, but as she was running short on time and she didn't want to make whatever was going to happen here any worse, she carefully undid the charm hiding her from view. Seeing that the hidden entity was in fact her, he let out a breath she hadn't noticed he was holding. Without a word, he shoved himself off the wall and walked toward her. He pulled out his wand and she gasped. Closing her eyes, she waited for the inevitable curses to begin. Seeing her reaction, he laughed. Shocked, she opened her eyes again only to see him smirking at her with a scary look in his eyes.

"It's not me you should be afraid of Granger," he said as he grabbed her elbow and apparated them both away.

Her feet landed on a thick rug in a very ornate sitting room. Hermione stumbled, not prepared for the sudden transportation. Her hand landed on the nearby couch. Its frame was built from some exotic material she had never seen before. Slowly she looked up, straight at the portrait of a regal looking blond woman dressed impeccably with every hair in place. Hermione had seen this woman before, and immediately she knew where she was. She let go of the couch as though she had been burned. Of all of the things she had been expecting, going to Malfoy Manor had definitely not been on the list.

Again Draco grabbed her elbow, this time steering her out of the sitting room and down a large marble hallway. He stopped before a huge oaken double door, stepping a few feet away from her. "It's them." He said as the doors swung open.

Revealed before her eyes was her worst nightmare come true. The large dining room was entirely packed with Death Eaters. Only twenty were allowed the honor to sit at the table. None of these twenty wore their masks. She knew more of them than she had ever hoped to. Some she had had to fight in years past. Others she knew of simply from Harry's descriptions. Masked and unmasked, each and every one turned to look at the noise of the doors opening. Growls stirred from many throats as they saw the two figures standing at the door. She knew that the hatred was completely aimed at her direction. Not only was she a filthy mudblood, but she was – at least to their eyes – a best friend to Harry Potter. The boy who had thwarted their master's every attempt in this war. A fighter in her own right against their desired blood purity. Only Harry or Dumbledore would receive a worse welcome.

Finally, after she had looked at every other person at the table, there was nowhere else for her eyes to go. There at the opposite end of the table sat the leader of all of these monsters, Lord Voldemort. His pale face was the most terrifying she had ever seen. His nose was merely slits in the middle of his face, and his eyes, more red than any man's should be, haunted her more than anything. Those eyes paused a moment on Draco before staring straight into her own, and it was at that moment that she truly believed, she would never get out of here alive.