Note: I'm sorry that I sometimes bother you all with my rants. Really, 99 percent of my readers are wonderful. It's only the ones that seem to feel that they're entitled to make demands that bother me. Don't let my little rants scare you from posting comments or questions.

On with it, then...


Draco was furious. Nothing was going his way. How was he supposed to be enjoying having control over Granger, when his own friends kept getting in his way? Gods forbid that the precious little thing should get a boo-boo or actually feel uncomfortable!

He paced his common room and ran his hands through his hair. Ever since the incident at lunch, his House had been giving him a wide berth. It was a pity. He really needed to go off on someone. He would have summoned Granger and let her have it, only, it would probably turn out to her advantage somehow and she would officially be crowned the Princess of Slytherin.

The thought made him gag.

What the Hell was going on!?

The wall opened to admit the Head Boy and Draco turned around with a snarl. "YOU!" he spat.

Theo stopped up to take in his Deputy. "Ah," was, however, all he said.

"You fancy her, don't you?" Draco accused. "That's why you try and sabotage me at every turn?"

The other boy raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm sure that didn't come out the way you intended."

Right now, Draco didn't give a damn how it sounded. "What? You think you save her from me and then all of a sudden she'll fancy you back? Get real! Her type doesn't want to be associated with your type any more than you should want to be associated with her!"

Theo went around Draco to sit down. "I'm fascinated by how much thought you've given this," he coolly commented.

"It's not right!" Draco persisted. "It's—it's perverse, is what it is!"

Theo's eyes grew shuttered. "Is that so?" he softly asked.

"You're damn right it is!" Draco resumed his pacing. "You – and Blaise too – why are you doing this to me? She knew what she was getting herself into. If she didn't, then she's bloody stupid and deserves it anyway. And she's mine to do with what I want for a whole month!"

"Again, I think you meant to phrase yourself differently."

"Fuck my phrasing, Nott!" Draco growled. "You know perfectly well what I mean."

"I do. But here's what you should know…" Theo leaned forward in his seat, staring intently at Draco. "You may control her actions for the next month, but you do not control mine. You will never control me." With that, he got up and went to his room, leaving Draco flabbergasted.


Hermione woke with a start. She sat up and shook her head to clear the webs. Had it been another dream?

Draco Malfoy's room. Now.

Oh, sheesh. She turned on a lamp and looked at the time. It was three in the morning.

Now, go now.

She sighed and cursed spoiled prats as she began pulling on her clothes. She was not going down there in her nightgown, damn it!

She only had time to pull on a pair of trousers and a sweater before the clamoring in her head got so loud and intense that she practically flew out her door. It still took her almost ten minutes to reach the dungeons, however, and she had a stitch in her side and her breath was coming hard by the time she reached the wall that would open into the Slytherin common room. Being Head Girl, she, of course, knew all the passes. She wondered whether Malfoy had even considered this potential obstacle when summoning her. It was hard to tell. He seemed to be looking for any reason to harass her, and having her delayed, by not knowing the pass, would probably give him the excuse he needed. It wasn't as if anybody would be coming or going at this hour, allowing her to slip in.

She caught her breath before blindly moving on, unable to register much of anything except the racket inside her head. She knew where she had to go. She would have known even if Draco hadn't forced her to find it when he was giving her pointless orders on Sunday. It already seemed so long ago and it had only been 36 hours. She sighed.

"You're late," he said, when she finally entered his room, breathing a sigh of relief as her head went silent. He was sitting at his desk, having apparently been doing some homework before she arrived.

"I was asleep," she replied, stating the obvious. She wasn't exactly well-groomed.

"Stand there," he said, pointing to the middle of his room.

It wasn't a very big room by any means. Hermione's was probably twice the size. But it held his bed, a desk, and a dresser comfortably enough, and it afforded him something that most students greatly coveted after a few years of sharing dormitories – privacy. It must have been appointed to him after he got his position as Deputy.

She did as instructed, noticing the coolness of the dungeon floor under her bare feet for the first time since making her mad dash. She hadn't even had time to put on socks.

Draco looked her over with a smirk, noting her unkempt hair and her hastily donned garments. He'd bet she hadn't even thought to bring her wand. His eyes fell to her feet and he froze for a second. She would be the death of him yet.

"You little idiot!" he hissed, shooting out of his chair. "You're doing this on purpose, aren't you? You're actually aiming to get Blaise to kill me, aren't you? It won't work, you know. Even he will see your scheme and then he won't care what I do to you!"

Hermione blinked in confusion. What have I done? She couldn't voice the question. Curse him for that. She took a second to rephrase. "To my knowledge, I have done nothing of the sort."

He glared at her. "In that case you're an imbecile. Coming down to the dungeons barefoot, Granger? Do you really think that it will let you off the hook, if you land yourself in the hospital wing?"

She pursed her lips. "Careful, Malfoy, or you might seem like you care."

His eyes darkened and he swore foully, making her eyes widen at the profanity. "Let's get one thing straight, Granger: Blaise and Theo might care what happens to you for their own obscure reasons, but I don't and I never will. As far as I'm concerned, you're worthless and a waste of space. In fact, I would have been a much happier person today, if you had never been born."

That actually stung a bit for reasons she could not fathom, but Hermione was careful not to let it show, just returning his gaze.

His mouth quirked slightly. "Unfortunately, you were, so I have to console myself by trying to make your existence as miserable as I can for as long as I can. Theo and Blaise might make it slightly more challenging, but that's all it is – a challenge."

Hermione swallowed, unable to respond. He had so much hate in him, so much anger. Sure, she didn't like him either, but she would never dream of saying such cold and mean things to him. She supposed that was one thing that made him a Slytherin – his penchant for nastiness.

He studied her for a second, almost as if trying to read her mind. "Now, that being said," he said and got up and went to his dresser, "I still don't want Blaise on my back. So you will immediately stop vying for his sympathy and you will begin wearing bloody socks to the bloody dungeons."

He turned around and threw something at her that she instinctively caught, staring at it.

"Make sure to have them washed before you return them," he said, pulling a disgusted face.

Hermione looked around for a place to sit while putting them on, but Draco had taken the only available chair again and that only left the bed.

"Don't even think about it," he said.

Her eyebrows went up. "Don't worry," she haughtily retorted, having somewhat regained her bearing. "I really wasn't."

"I'm glad we're on the same page."

Left with no other choice, Hermione was forced to adopt an incredibly awkward stance while putting on much too large socks in the stupid Slytherin green. She bet he'd chosen them on purpose just to bother her with the color, because the ones he was wearing himself were black. She would, of course, much have preferred black.

"Are you going to be done with that any time soon?" he asked her irritably after a few seconds.

She straightened and glared at him, well aware that her face was a bit flushed from bending over. "This wouldn't be an issue at all, if you hadn't decided to summon me here at 3 a.m.," she pointedly informed him.

His eyebrows rose at her impertinence. "But that is my prerogative," he replied.

"It doesn't mean you have to abuse it," she countered.

"No, it doesn't," he agreed. "But I really, really want to."

Hermione scowled. There wasn't any good way to respond to that.

"I have come up with another way to get back at you. One that neither Blaise nor Theo will interfere in. Want to hear it?"

"No, not really," she replied.

"Too bad, you're going to hear it." Of course she was. "Starting tomorrow – that is, today – you will come here every afternoon at four p.m. You might want to eat a big lunch, because chances are slim that I will allow you to leave for supper. You won't leave until I tell you to and you will be standing right there, doing exactly nothing, unless I tell you otherwise."

Hermione gaped. Every day? "You've got to be joking!" she sputtered. "I can't do that, I have duties and meetings and homework and friends…"

He stared coldly at her. "You will be excused until after your meeting with Nott on Wednesdays or I'll never hear the end of it from him. As for other meetings, I'll let you know."

And homework? "I still have homework," she objected.

He sneered slightly. "You'll have to do that either before or after. I don't care. As long as you're where I want, when I want."

"Right," she grumbled. All hail King Malfoy. Somehow, she didn't think that drawing his attention onto how this would affect her social life would help her much. Think, Hermione, think. "It won't be fun for you, either, to have to spend every afternoon with me." Good one.

At this he grinned. "And they say you're smart? First of all, of course it will be fun. You're my personal slave! I don't think I'll ever tire of that. Second of all, nowhere does it state that I have to be here, does it? You just enter and go stand in your little spot. Oh, and don't touch anything, by the way. I can do without you snooping through my things."

He was delighted at the scowl she directed in his direction and even more delighted to know he was getting to her. He knew she wanted to ask questions, but she was still under the influence of his early order not to. He hadn't realized at the time just how much this would end up bothering her. He was very pleased.

"But it's pointless," she finally said. "I don't see your point."

"Really?" he asked. "So you don't realize that the whole school will know where you're off to?"

Hermione blanched. He was right. If she went down to the dungeons every day in broad daylight, it wouldn't take long for people to make assumptions. She slowly shook her head as she took in his look of malevolence. "You don't want them to think that," she all but whispered. "Pansy…"

"Pansy knows what's going on," he said. "And I don't exactly plan on letting anyone think I reciprocate your… sentiments… although I might let them think that I take what's being offered."

She was going to be sick. She was quite certain that she was going to be sick, right here, right now. She crossed her arms as if to protect herself and swayed slightly. If she understood this correctly, he planned on letting people think that she was throwing herself at his feet. And she was powerless to stop him from doing so.

Oh, God, Ron…

She wasn't exactly dating Ron, of course, but she had always assumed… If he found out about this and she didn't refute it, he wasn't likely to wait around for her. She fought back her tears. Perhaps Malfoy didn't know just how badly he would hurt her. He couldn't be that mean… could he?

"You won't tell anyone, of course," he said in a voice that seemed to come from far, far away. "You won't even hint to anyone that it might be wrong. No one. Not even to Theo, if he should ask you about it."

Why would Nott ask her about it? It didn't matter.

"Malfoy, please…" she whispered.

"Forget it, Granger," he interrupted. "You think I care what others think of you? You think I care about who you'd hoped would eventually date you? I hope it's someone in Gryffindor, because then they won't look at you twice once I'm through with you."

Her eyes snapped up to look into his. He really didn't care. He really wanted to break her, to destroy her. Merlin, what had she gotten herself into?

"You're dismissed," he said. "See you in twelve hours." He turned back to his studies.

He heard the door quietly close behind the Mudblood. There, it was done. He rubbed his neck, feeling weary beyond belief. Damn this insomnia he had sometimes. He knew from experience that when he felt like this, trying to sleep was futile.

Summoning Granger had been just another way of passing time, another way to bother her. It surprised him a little how easy she was to get to, but that only made this whole task easier, didn't it? It was funny, he was all for bothering Gryffindors on principle, but she was the first person he'd truly wanted to suffer. Of course, he really did owe her.

He was used to the bias against Slytherins in favor of Gryffindors. He was even used to Potter managing to make him look like a fool time and again. But the way she looked down her nose at him and acted like it was ok to treat him as less than a human being… No, she would pay for that. She would especially pay for prying his secrets from him when testing the bracelet. He would never forgive that and no punishment was great enough. He really did hope she had something to lose.

Hermione stormed up several flights of stairs before she had to stop and catch her breath. Her vision was blurry and she wiped angrily at her eyes. No, she wouldn't cry. She couldn't. She wouldn't give him that satisfaction. If he thought that it took so little to break her, he was wrong. And if he thought it took so little to deter Ron from pursuing her… well, she hoped he was wrong. If he wasn't, it simply wasn't meant to be, was it? Slowly she made her way the rest of the way to her dormitory and, for once, she didn't care where she threw her clothes – especially the socks that seemed to be mocking her – before she went to bed, praying for unconsciousness.


Next chapter:

The movement revealed the bracelet to Pansy, who gasped and, breaking Draco's hold, took a few steps forward to grab Hermione's wrist. The books all fell to the floor with a large clatter and Hermione winced. It was Pansy's fault, of course, but she wouldn't be the one to pay for it.

Still holding Hermione's wrist, Pansy turned to face a suddenly serious looking Draco.

"You lied to me!" she whispered, making Hermione aware of the sudden tension.