This Bitter Earth

by Ikorous

Control isn't the only thing Draco Malfoy has lost. But he will get it back. He will get everything bac

8. EIGHT

A huge thank you to mysweet_bree for betaing this chapter for me and and dealing with me when I was freaking out and re-reading everything as many times as I asked her to. THANK YOU BREE!

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Soundtrack- "Lexington" by Chiodos and "Hurt" by SYML

EIGHT

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Hermione woke up feeling warm. No, not just warm- hot. Sweltering. It never felt this hot in the tent. They often cast warming charms, which wore off by morning and the chill of winter always found a way to seep in, but now the warmth was unbearable. She moaned, pulling at the blanket on her, trying to shed it and dispel some of the heat trapped with her.

Something stopped her. Something heavy.

She tried to twist under it and groaned against the weight. Immediately, she could feel the difference in her throat; it was not nearly as tender and sore as it had been and only a little tickle of discomfort was left. At least the heat was good for something even if it did feel like it was suffocating her.

The heavy thing moved, sliding up her body and Hermione wrinkled her nose before blearily opening her eyes, blinking them a few times as blurry images came into focus.

A head, a face, and finally mist grey eyes that were looking down at her with a little crooked smile carved onto a white marble face.

"Hello, Sweetheart."

Maybe she was hallucinating again or still delirious. Hermione could remember bits from last night- boots in the snow, the Death Eater coming for her… She had thought it was another fever dream! But it had felt real, too real, and now the face in front of her wasn't coming out of the back of her mind, it was hanging over her, looking down at her and it wasn't just a figment based on a memory anymore. It was actually-

"D-Draco?"

Draco's smile expanded, showing off straight, white teeth. "I'm here. You're here."

He lowered his face closer to hers and Hermione felt woozy as she stared up at him, hardly daring to believe her eyes. His jaw seemed sharper, but not like it was when he dropped weight last year, no… now it was firmer. There was more muscle there under the greying skin. Goodness, but the longer she looked at him the worse he looked. The dark bags were under his eyes again and his lids hung heavily over them, like he hadn't slept properly in weeks. Or months.

But the smile was the same one she remembered from their night in the Room of Requirement, lighting up the tired shadows on his face.

He was here. With her. Really with her. Hermione's heart beat a little faster, anxious to believe the truth right in front of her face. Each small thump felt like it was beating against a bruise; sending out a twinge of pain that bled away to be replaced by a thick coat of relief, washing over the wounded area, soothing it.

All the pain from the last six months was still there, but now that he was here too it felt like it could finally start to heal. And so could she. The new knowledge of what he had tried to do, what he had been willing to do, made it possible for them to be together. She had denied the fact that she still loved him, still wanted him, because she couldn't imagine a future with them together while Draco was still a Death Eater. It was impossible.

But this wasn't! It had happened, he had found her and they were here… but, where was here? Her cot in the tent certainly didn't feel like this.

Hermione didn't remember much and it was all still hazy and distant. He he hadn't been, Draco had been there and she could remember the feel of his arms wrapped tightly around her. She sank into them, not that she had much of a choice, but if she had, she would have made this one. It hadn't mattered that cold air whipping around them as stars sped past because his deep, commanding voice whispered in her ear, "I've got you, kitten. And I'm never letting you go again."

And she wasn't going to either. She had lost him before, but she had never fully let go. She hadn't been able to. She hadn't wanted to. And now-

Now…

"Fuck, I missed you," Draco breathed out and shifted his body on top of the covers to press fully against hers.

He breathed out forcefully and his hand slid up her neck, under her chin, tilting her face upwards as he leaned down over her. Hermione wanted to pull him on top of her, have him back the way they had been. Like they could be now; now that she knew what happened on the tower and that he tried, for her, and now he had come for her, just like he promised. They were right where they left off, tangled together in a bed and after missing out on six months together she didn't want to lose one more second.

Her chest wasn't cracking this time, it was… breaking open, letting her heart free from the cage it had been trapped in all this time. She was sure that it was going to lift up out of her body and crash right into Draco. It was still his, after all, and so was she.

She would always be his. And Godric, she wanted to be more than anything.

The world was spinning, but for the first time in so long, Hermione wanted to let go and let it take her with it.

She lifted her hand up to touch his face, to bring it to hers, parting her lips, needing his on hers when she felt something weighing her arm down followed by a dull clink of metal.

The world ground to a halt, pulled down by the weight of gravity.

Draco's eyes flashed like quicksilver as they darted down to her wrist and then back up to her face. Hermione's gaze followed his to find a cuff around her wrist and heavy metal links hanging from her arm, indenting the soft blanket she was laying under, and finally connecting to the frame of the bed itself.

Draco had chained her to the bed. His bed.

Like an animal. Like a slave.

Like a Mudblood.

Her heart sank back down into her chest, falling straight through her into somewhere dark and lonely, while the lion inside her roared in its place.

She was his. Whether she wanted to be or not.

Just like that last night; if he would have told her what happened on the tower instead of Imperiusing her she might have… they might have…

But he took that choice away from her and tried to take her with him. Where? And where was she now?!

Hermione's head snapped back in his direction. Draco's mouth opened to give some excuse or… lie. What if it had all been a lie? What if he hadn't meant a word of what he said to Dumbledore? She pushed herself up in the bed and away from him. Her head swam, dizzy with thoughts and the last vestiges of fever; she didn't want to be anywhere near him right now.

Hermione pulled on the chain, her breathing getting shakier by the second.

"Granger-"

She backed herself into the headboard; the cool, dark wood jolting her to her senses and worked to steady her a little.

Until she realized it was against her skin.

Hermione looked down at where the thick blanket had pooled in her lap and saw the only items covering her were a light pink bra and thin white knickers.

He had undressed her. He had undressed her and put her in his bed and then chained her to it.

Her vision swam and for a moment she thought she might get sick all over the too thick blanket.

Head snapping in his direction, Hermione watched Draco's face drop in nervous worry. Good! He should be worried because as soon as she got her wand she was going to-

Her wand.

Harry still had her wand.

Oh God, Harry!

Draco's hand landed on her hip bone and Hermione's body gave an involuntary shiver at the feel of his large palm and strong fingers. Goosebumps rose up on her bare flesh as his cool skin took the heat of her body. "It's not what you think-"

"Not what I think?!" Hermione shouted, the force of it burning her tender throat. She shoved Draco's hand from her, the chain clanking, then grabbed at the fallen blanket, pulling it up and fisting it against her heaving chest.

Feeling herself flush with color and breathing heavily, Hermione watched as Draco's whole body went as still as a statue and his face fell into a practiced impassivity. The crooked smile was long gone and with it any relief she had felt in seeing him again.

She had thought he had come back to her, but no. Draco hadn't come back to her, he had come back for her. Hermione's heart stuttered. Just like he promised.

"What am I supposed to think? You have me naked and tied to your bed!"

Draco's brows dropped over his eyes, casting them in shadow. "You're not naked and it's-"

"Where are my clothes?"

Draco clenched his jaw. His dark eyes stormed, anger and hurt flashing in them and Hermione felt a pang ring through her chest. She had seen those eyes so many times looking back at her from the darkness of her mind. Just yesterday she would have given almost anything to look into them again, but now? Now she wanted nothing more than not to see the pain she was causing in them.

But look at what he had done to her!

Her Gryffindor pride welled up in her broken chest. She was not about to sit here and feel bad that she had hurt his feelings after he had… had… What exactly had he done?

"Where are my clothes, Draco? Where…" She looked around the room, hoping to see them somewhere nearby and finally got a chance to take in her surroundings. The room was large, no, it was gigantic. Filled with a matching, decoratively carved wardrobe, bureau, and end tables on either side of the framed bed they were currently laying in. Tapestries lined the walls and a thick, plush rug took up most of the floor, but what caught Hermione's attention was the velvet chaise on the far side of the room.

It was the same velvet chaise where she had… that they had… Oh God…

"I've always wanted to fuck on that."

Their chaise.

The chaise that had meant so much to her, was his. It belonged to Draco. He had brought it there for her. No, not for her. To have her how he wanted. Just like how he had brought her here. Hermione felt dizzy again and watched the room sway in front of her despite not being able to tear her eyes away from the plush piece of furniture.

"Your clothes were disgusting," Draco snapped. "So were you for that matter."

Hermione turned back to glare at him and then her eyes widened as she took a slow, deep breath, touching her hair and finding it… soft. It had been cleaned; and not just with a quick scourgify like she had been doing; she could smell shampoo. Someone had washed it.

"You bathed me?!"

"You were filthy, Granger!" Draco sat up, making him look even larger than he had lying next to her. His shoulders were broader now and straining against his shirt. Any weight he had lost last year, Draco had packed back on. In muscle. "You were covered in sweat and dirt and mud-"

"Oh, so now you care that I had mud on me? Because you didn't when you pushed me down in it and stood on my chest!"

God, she was angry. No, she was fuming. Her pride had fired up fully with the reintroduction of Draco in her life. No one got under her skin like he did. Not even Ron. How could Draco sit there and try and act like anything he had done was okay!

Draco ground his teeth together. "I was saving you!"

"You were kidnapping me!"

"Oh come off it, you fucking wanted to come with me."

"Because you cursed me! You- you Imperiused me, Draco!"

His lip curled slightly in a cruel sneer. Some things would never change. Hermione took a sharp breath and backed up into the headboard again as Draco leaned in close to her. "And you didn't fight it. Not even for a second. Fuck, Granger," he breathed out and let his eyes travel over her face and down her neck to her chest where she tightened her grip on the blanket before lifting back to hers with a gleam in them. "I felt how much you liked it."

Her heart was hammering violently. Swallowing dryly, Hermione tried to ignore the tight twisting feeling of excitement in her stomach, having Draco look at her like that again.

"And you had your fun paying me back. That was quite the chase you put me on." Draco let out a small breath and tilted his head slightly. "But I caught you and now-" He placed his hand over hers, pulling the blanket down her chest.

"Now nothing!" Hermione clawed it back up, swatting his hand away in the process.

Draco's eyes narrowed and Hermione felt a jolt of nerves pass through her at the familiar sight. Grabbing the blanket with a growl, Draco ripped it back from her. Hermione gasped, then refusing to let him take something else from her, reached back out to steal it back and found herself tangled in his arms, fighting him as his hands slid up her arms and down her sides.

Good Godric, it felt good to be touched by him again. It felt amazing.

She instinctively wanted to relax under him, soften her body for him. Before she knew it, his hand was on her thigh, trailing inward and Hermione heard a small moan come unbidden out of her open mouth.

Draco pushed his leg in between hers and she pressed her hands into his shirt, feeling that his shoulders were not the only place his muscles had thickened. Her arms were bent and ready to shove him away again, but her fingers dug into the fabric, etching along the hard lines underneath.

His body hovered over hers for a moment while Draco stared down at her, desire darkening his eyes until they were only ringed by silver. She could smell the crisp mint of him all around her and after not being able to smell anything for days Hermione took a deep breath in, wanting more of it. All of it.

Draco growled and his lips found hers, colliding and crashing in a crushing kiss. Somehow, in the madness of all of this, Draco still retained his control. His lips moved against hers, tongue darting out to lick at them as he pushed her head back, deepening the kiss. Hermione felt herself kissing him back. And she didn't stop.

Oh God, it was everything. Everything she had wanted, everything she had missed, everything that she had given up and now it was here and Draco was here. Her mouth opened to allow his tongue to slither in and Draco gave a visceral groan.

Hermione whimpered, her lower half moving against his body as he pushed her thighs open, pressing her down into the mattress and his leg up in between hers, pinning her hips open.

His teeth caught her bottom lip and pressed down, soft at first, but when she let out a high moan they bit down harder and hot, pleasurable pain flooded through her, washing over her and settling in a warm pool at her center.

Draco shoved his chest against hers, resting his weight on her and holding her down while his other hand dove into her hair, clutching at the soft curls and twisting them in his fingers. Hermione grabbed at him, his sides, his back, his arms. She had the Draco in her head to keep her company, but she had never been able to touch him like she wanted to. Feeling Draco's body again was enough to block out any other thought and the cool calmness seeped into her mind like it always did, cooling the overworked and overheated parts of her brain.

God, it was just like before. The same lightness and bubbles rose up in her like they had never left. Her body sunk back against the bed and she dug her nails into Draco's shirt, feeling the soft fabric like she had so many times before. He groaned from deep within, as he had been holding it in this whole time, just waiting for her to be back under him.

And she had been waiting too.

Draco's hand on her thigh slid to the inside and Hermione shivered, inhaling sharply through her nose as his fingers brushed over the mark she had kept as a reminder of him. For him. And for herself.

She felt his lips slightly twist into a familiar smirk and his tongue plunged into her mouth again as he grazed back over it. Hermione arched her back, pushing her hips up and Draco squeezed her inner thigh, making the bruise and bite flare to life with pain.

And in that small moment of clarity, everything since the last time he touched it came rushing back. She had been alone, so completely alone, because he had left her there. He said he would come for her and she had waited, alone in her room, she had cried and waited for him. And he hadn't come. He hadn't even written like Ron or Harry had-

Harry!

Hermione pushed Draco back, her chain clanking loudly with the movement.

"What? What's wrong?" Draco asked, grey eyes searching her face, hands frozen on her too warm body.

"Where's Harry?" The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could phrase them in a slightly less jarring way.

Draco's brows pulled together. "Potter?" His lids lowered over his eyes and his voice dripped with venom as he said, "Why are you asking about him?"

"What did you do with him?" Her voice shook slightly. How could she have forgotten? Draco had been turning in Muggleborns to the Ministry in his spare time. As a hobby. She didn't want to think about what he would do if he found Harry. "If you found me, you must have seen him too. I was out there looking for him-"

Draco threw himself back off of her with a fluid grace. Hermione slid against the soft sheets and pushed herself up again, but without Draco on top of her, she didn't like only wearing only the undergarments he had put her in. They were familiar, she used to have a bra just like… Oh goodness. These were hers. Draco had kept them.

A swarm of rushed thoughts surged forward, sparking questions that Hermione thought she might know the answer to, but wasn't sure she was ready to admit to herself. Or him.

She pulled her legs up, wrapping her arms around them and tried to cover herself. Her ankle twinged in discomfort. Maybe she had hurt it more than she realized; she had hit her head rather hard after all. She could be imagining it or maybe she was still weak, but the chain around her wrist felt even heavier now.

Hermione watched the muscles in Draco's back ripple and tense under his shirt. Was he about to start yelling at her like he had after the first time they had woken up together? She felt just as exposed as she had then, even if she was slightly more clothed. Was Draco always this grumpy in the mornings? Was it even morning? The curtains were drawn and the only light came from the lamps and sconces on the walls.

There was still so much she didn't know. And too much she already did.

Draco stood up, clenching his hands into fists at his side.

It felt like one of them was gripping her heart.

Hermione reached out for the blanket, scrambling across the large bed as Draco turned swiftly back around. His face was pale with rage, making the dark circles stand out even more.

"Why didn't you wait for me?"

Out of everything he could ask, that was the last question Hermione was expecting as she lay huddled under the covers in his bed.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't a fair question to ask her, not when she needed answers herself about what he had been doing all this time as a Death Eater for his Lord.

The lion in her chest flexed its claws. "You left me first, remember?"

Lightning flashed in his storm cloud eyes. "I-" Draco clamped his mouth shut for a moment before opening it and roaring, "I saved your fucking life, Granger!"

Hermione's chest heated up from the fire that was flaring inside her, burning brighter with every word Draco yelled at her.

"I didn't need you to save me!"

"Oh because Potter was doing such a good job," he sneered. "You were two days from death when I found you."

"When you kidnapped me, you mean!"

Draco just stared at her, silent and still, so Hermione glared back with as much ferocity as she could manage. Why, after all this time, was it still so hard to tell what he was thinking? It would have been easier to get blood from a stone than it was to get the honest truth from Draco Malfoy.

"I didn't kidnap you."

"Explain this then!" Hermione held her wrist up, shaking it in his direction. "Sorry, but I don't think guests normally wake up in chains!"

He crossed his arms over his chest, blue veins visible on his forearms and Hermione noticed he kept the left one tucked carefully against his torso. It wasn't like she didn't know what was branded there, but as always, Draco tried to hide it from her. Nothing, absolutely nothing, had changed.

She scoffed and turned her face away from him, not wanting to look at him. Especially since she couldn't keep her eyes from roving over his body.

Draco struck out, grabbing her arm and hauling her across the bed towards him.

"Let go of me!" Hermione shouted, struggling. "Let me GO!" She kicked out her legs, trying to make it difficult for him to move her, but Draco seemed to have no problem pulling her around to fit his whims and the sheets were soft enough that she easily slid across them.

He held her arm tightly in his fist and pulled the cuff up to his mouth. For a moment Hermione thought he was going to kiss it, but then she heard a faint shadow of a whisper and the cuff fell off.

Hermione stared at it on the bed in front of her. Guests might not wake up in chains, but prisoners didn't get set free either. So what was she to him then?

Draco threw her back and Hermione landed heavily against the softest pillows she had ever felt in her life. She felt them mold to the shape of her head and neck, supporting her perfectly. Charmed. They must be charmed. Was anything here not magical?

Of course not. Draco was as Pureblooded as they came, not like Ron and his family who were more than willing to welcome in Muggle traditions and incorporate non-magical items into their everyday lives. Ron had a hard enough time adjusting to living in the tent and look where that ended up? Draco wouldn't have lasted a day.

Not that Draco would ever have gone with her, Harry, and Ron. He had tried to take her from them before and now, he had finally gotten her. Right where he always wanted her- strapped to his bed and completely alone and no one knew where she was. Only him.

Hermione glared at him. "Don't touch me."

The tendons in Draco's neck tightened and twitched and Hermione was almost sure he was going to pin her down on the bed by the dark look in his eyes. Her lower stomach tightened, but not in fear. What was wrong with her? Why did she almost want him to do just that? She shouldn't. She should be screaming and shouting and demanding he let her go. So why was she sitting here on his bed, staring up at him and watching the blacks of his eyes grow as he gazed back down at her?

Hermione blinked and gave a small cough, wincing as the effort of it burned her throat.

Draco was suddenly moving, taking long strides to the door at the far end of the room and pulled it open roughly.

Hermione's jaw dropped open as a familiar ginger fur with bottle brush tail darted inside the room. No… it couldn't be… Crookshanks ran across the rug and jumped up onto the bed, already purring by the time he got to her. She reached out to him without thinking, picking him up and pulling him close to her, burying her face in his thick, orange fur.

She gasped, tears welling up in her eyes as Hermione held her cat close to her, hugging him tighter than she ever had before. She thought she'd never see him again, but somehow, miraculously, he was here! Crookshanks alternated between meowing and purring, pushing his flatted face into her shoulder which only made Hermione hug him tighter. This shouldn't be possible, but it was.

"At least you're happy to see him."

Hermione glanced up to see Draco standing in the doorway, hand on the door handle and a scowl on his face. For the smallest moment, Hermione saw pain and longing flash across his expression before it once again returned to an emotionless mask.

Something in her brain snapped into place. Draco had Crookshanks; which meant that he had gone to her house. And it must have been before her parents left for Australia where they were supposed to take Crookshanks with them. Draco had come for her. Just one day after she had left.

They had been so close, so why did he feel further away than ever now?

She looked back up at him, wanting to say… something. She wasn't sure what, but she didn't want to leave it like this. She wasn't happy with him, at all, but… the fact that he had brought Crookshanks here meant… well it had to have meant something, didn't it?

He had taken the chain off. Maybe… maybe she was missing something? It certainly felt like she was. None of this made sense and she wanted answers. She could ask him why he had Crookshanks. Why he had brought her here, and why he had chained her up only to remove it as soon as she was awake. Why was he such a puzzle?

Hermione opened her mouth and then gasped, pulling her cat up to her chest as Draco pointed his wand directly at the pair of them. With a quick twist of his wrist large bars shot up from the base of the bed on all four sides, sliding and locking into place with the canopy with a metallic thud.

A cage. He had locked her in a cage. Not a guest. Not a prisoner.

An animal.

A pet.

"Welcome home," Draco snarled, "Hermione."

The door slammed behind him and the room was cast into darkness.

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That bitch. That goddamn stuck up motherfucking bitch. That fucking Mud-

Draco turned the bottle back up again, swallowing down another mouthful before slamming it down on his desk again, gasping and wincing against the harsh burn in his chest. It would fade. The more he drank, the easier it got and the whisky moved in filling up all the shattered little cracks inside him that the fucking cunt in his bed had opened up again when she shoved him away.

She hadn't even let him explain.

She never let him explain. Not after she saw his mark and went fucking running off to Dumbledore; not when Weasley burst in and tried to take her away, and especially not after the tower.

She had pushed him away then too.

That's why he had to Imperius her in the first place! She wasn't listening and he just had to get her safe and then he could tell her everything. But she thought she was so smart and always jumped to conclusions and fucking assumed they were always right because she was so bloody brilliant. Salazar fucking Slytherin, he hated her.

She couldn't just fucking listen to him, just believe him, trust him…

"I could never trust you."

Draco snarled and swiped the bottle off his desk again, turning it up and choking down as much as he could before he felt like he was going to be sick.

This was her fault. Her fucking fault all of this had happened. If she would have waited on him, if she would have come with him, if she would have fucking trusted him- none of this would have happened! If Granger hadn't left him when he was goddamn calling out her name, he wouldn't have written to Bellatrix and that night would have never happened and he wouldn't have spent weeks on the island when he should have been with her.

Draco cast his eyes over to the door and drank again.

He should be with her right now, making her moan his name out like a dirty whore. He should be sliding into her, telling her how much he missed her, how glad he was that she was here and in return Granger should touch him, running her hands over his body and whispering that she loved him and had never really wanted to go, never actually wanted to leave him. He should have her on her knees thanking him, profusely, for spending this whole time looking for her and finding her and bringing her here where he could take care of her and keep her safe from the war outside.

For Salazar's sake, he had spent the whole night slowly pouring potions down her throat and wiping the sweat off her skin with silk handkerchiefs embroidered with the Malfoy crest. He had been careful with the bump on her forehead. Draco thought about trying to heal it, but head wounds were tricky and the last thing he wanted to do was alter something inside her head unintentionally.

Softly dabbing the Malfoy crest against the bruised skin, Draco smiled down at her.

"Finally got everything right in there, not going to fuck it up now," he breathed out softly and Granger made a small noise in her throat as his breath fanned over her face.

Once her fever had broken Draco took her into the bath, washing her carefully. She had bruises over what seemed like every part of her and scratches on her hands and face. Her ankle was swollen and Draco carefully ran his hands down her leg, massaging it ever so slightly until the crease between her brows faded. Rubbing the salve Blaise had given him for his leg across her skin, he watched it softly heal itself back together perfectly. No scars. Draco kissed every spot of new skin and something deep inside him was pleased at the fact that he was the first to touch it. And from here on out, the only one who ever would.

When he had moved up her legs, he had seen the bruised bite mark on her inner thigh. His stomach had clenched tightly and his heart beat at an unnatural rate. Memories of giving it to her flooded forward and Draco felt his mouth water, wanting to bite down on the tender skin again. The redness of her cheeks had subsided into her usual rosy color, but she still needed her rest so he just caressed it lovingly, thinking of all the ways he would reward her for being such a good girl for him while she was away.

He could hardly believe it; Granger had kept it. All this time. She had kept his last little present to her because she knew he liked seeing it on her. Granger had wanted him to find her! All the irking doubts that plagued him washed away in the warm bath and Draco pulled her close to him again, pressing her thin frame into his scarred chest in a loving embrace, burying his face in her neck and breathing in her sweet smell of cinnamon and vanilla that was still present under all the dirt and blood.

Still the same. Still his girl. His good, sweet girl.

He took his time washing her hair, running his fingers across her scalp, rubbing her thick curls between his fingers as he lathered on the expensive shampoo into rich, golden bubbles. She let out a small noise when he got too close to the knot on her forehead and Draco softly pressed his lips to it, telling her she would be healed soon and was safe here, with him. Only him.

Draco had made many changes to his quarters over the past few months in preparation for Granger's arrival. He used the Manor's own magic, weaving it together with new wards across his door in a similar pattern to the way she had hidden herself away from him. He would tell her about it when she woke up and she would be proud of him for accomplishing such complex and intricate magic. He would tell her that it was all for her and Granger would look up at him with her big doe eyes and tell him how much she loved everything he had done for her.

His bedroom was virtually impossible to break into now, not that anyone ever came into his private rooms these days. He had his study for business and meetings while his bedroom stayed private. Even so, he had made it safe, replacing the locks with goblin wrought iron that was charmed to keep anyone but himself out. It had cost him of course, but it was worth it for her.

And she didn't fucking care.

What a selfish, ungrateful bitch.

Draco swung his chair around, leaning back in it to glare at his bedroom door.

No. She didn't get to just run him out of his own room, not after he had done all of this to get her here. He could have left her out there in the forest to freeze. He could have left her out there for some Snatcher to stumble upon. He could have left her out there to die, but no. Draco had caught her as her eyes fluttered shut and pulled her tight against him, hugging her and holding her in his arms as she fell into them. He stayed there for a moment, trying to keep the emotions welling up in his chest from spilling out of his eyes; thanking Salazar and all of the stars above that he had finally found her.

Draco took three deep breaths of the cold air, relishing the warm feeling of his girl against his hard-beating heart; then he noticed just how hot she was.

Granger was burning alive.

Draco carefully arranged her on his broom, not wanting to risk apparition with Granger being weak and held her carefully as he flew her back, whispering softly into her sweat soaked curls that she was okay, he would make her well again, and for her not to worry because didn't he always give his sweet little kitten what she needed?

Granger was lighter on his broom this time and Draco couldn't help but let his hands wander a little during the flight back to the Manor. It was more difficult to feel her through her lumpy sweater than it had been the thin shirt she had worn for him the first time, but even so Draco could tell that something was different. She always wore her clothes too fucking big, except that one time that Draco still thought about fondly, but she was really committing to the frumpy librarian look wearing this one.

As much as he wanted to slide his hand under it, he didn't want to expose her skin to the freezing air up here so Draco settled for running his hands over her waist until his entire arm was wrapped around her and resting his chin on her shoulder and neck, nibbling on her ear when he caught a current of air and was able to glide seamlessly through the inky sky. But even that comforting gesture could not entirely shake the feeling that Granger was different.

It didn't matter how small she felt, he wasn't letting go, not for the world. But when he undressed her he realized exactly why. Granger had always been slender, but now she was practically skin and bones. Her ribs, clavicle, and hips bones all stuck out sharply against her damp skin. He could count every bump of her spine down her back and traced them with his fingers. Had Potter and Weasley been starving her out there? It didn't matter; he would feed her and take care of her now. He would have the elves make her anything she wanted and give her everything she needed.

The Malfoy elves were more talented than the ones that worked at Hogwarts and there wasn't anything magic couldn't make. They could lay in bed and he would feed her from his fingers before leaning down and eating his own treat. Granger would be back to her usual self in no time. They both would.

When Draco placed in his bed, he hadn't been able to stop smiling. Even as sickly as she looked, he would fix it. He would fix everything and then she would wake up and it would all be okay because they would be together.

Granger would throw her arms around him and kiss him and he'd tell her how much he missed her and she'd say how much she loved him and everything would be a thousand times better than he had imagined it because Granger was actually here in his bed and he had finally done it.

He had found her.

He had saved her.

And now she could save him.

Granger made another soft noise of protest as he put the bra he had taken from the Room of Requirement and the knickers he had kept from their very first night together, all freshly laundered, on her heated body. The noises disturbed him. It was a worried moan, and not at all like the ones she normally made. This one sounded more like the pitiful cries of the Mudbloods he had locked in the cells below the Department of Mysteries.

Dark and nervous thoughts swam forward as she turned her head away from him, brows pulling together over her closed eyes.

He should put the chain on. Just in case. In case Granger woke up and was… confused. Yes. She might be a little disoriented from the fever or the head wound and he would need to explain her new life to her. Draco closed the cuff around her wrist. Granger wasn't going anywhere. She was home.

But she hadn't let him get a fucking word in before she once again jumped to conclusions. All because she thought she knew every goddamn thing there was to know. Fuck, she hadn't even asked him anything other than where Potter was! She didn't ask how he was feeling, how he was doing, no- all she cared about was her precious Chosen One whose great abilities included letting his best friend starve and then get lost in the woods and make her come rescue him when she was burning up with fever.

How the fuck did Granger think that fucktard could ever defeat the Dark Lord? He would laugh if he wasn't so fucking upset right now.

Draco wished he would have found Potter in the woods. Shit, he would gladly hand him over to his Master right now. Then march back up here and tell Granger exactly where her little friend was and watch those pretty eyes go big for him one way or another.

Maybe the Dark Lord would let Draco bring back the head as proof. There would be no denying that ugly scar.

She would be upset, but he would be there to comfort her, kissing away her tears and holding her until she stopped crying. Of course she'd get over Potter. Because she'd still have him.

Draco dragged the back of his hand across his mouth, wiping the whisky from his wet lips. Granger wasn't near as smart as she believed herself to be if she thought her little outburst this morning was enough to make him let her go. Nothing could ever make him let her go. Not now that he had her, not after everything he had done for her.

Granger would come around, she always did. Even after she saw his mark, she still came back to him. She had loved him and he knew deep inside she still did, even if she wanted to pretend differently. He had tasted it when he kissed her and felt it when she pushed her hips into his. He was about to make her feel how much he loved her when the burning in her eyes changed from desire to disgust.

Draco gripped the bottle of the neck tightly. She had just spent the last six months with Potter and Weasley and they surely filled her head up with every terrible thing he had ever done.

That was fine. He could fill her up in another way and make her remember how good he actually was.

Drumming his fingers on the desk next to the bottle, Draco stared at it, debating whether to finish it off or not. Granger would be pissed if he walked back in drunk.

He glanced back at the door. It wasn't like she was going to be welcoming him back with open arms, or legs, anytime soon.

Fucking bitch.

Draco took another drink, trying to get the taste of her out of his mouth. He felt like he was drowning in it, in her. Maybe he should go back in and try to talk to her. Tell her… shit. He couldn't think straight like this. His thoughts turned into images as the liquor hit his head and all he could see, all he could feel, was her. Granger's lips on his, her hands on his arms, sliding over his body and back, her tits pressed against him and her soft thigh giving under his fingers. And then the whisky burned in his chest and Draco remembered her hands on it, pushing him away in cold rejection.

With a roar of aggravation, Draco picked up the bottle, throwing it across the study to where it shattered against the bedroom door, dripping down the paneled wood in thick drops like the tears he wouldn't cry over that fucking bitch of a Mudblood anymore.

.

Draco stumbled into the room, hanging on the door handle to help stay upright. The lamps immediately lit, bringing warm light into the dark room. Hermione shielded her eyes. She had been in here for hours, in the bed, in the dark. She had cried calling for anyone to help her, she had shouted raging against the bars of the cage, and then finally she had sat quietly, petting Crookshanks who seemed perfectly at home in Draco's room.

Before the sun went down, Hermione had spent at least an hour staring at the chaise. A single ray of light broke through the curtains and landed on it, illuminating the tufted cushions which soaked the weak light into the thick velvet. It was just like she remembered, down to the brass studs lining the edges. Even the grey fur blanket was draped over the back.

The same one that Draco had pulled it over the both of them and Hermione had fallen asleep in his arms under. There hadn't been any nightmares that night. But there hadn't been any dreams either. There had only been Draco, and the love that bloomed inside her and had never died.

Even when she trapped it deep within herself, in the darkest regions of her mind, it had not withered. If anything, it had grown stronger, taking his form and not letting her forget him like she so desperately wished she could, but Draco wouldn't let her forget. Not for one second. He was there, always there, and now, she was here.

Draco was mumbling spells, tapping the door with his wand and leaning against it as Hermione heard it lock and seal.

He turned still leaning back against the door, eyes red and glazed as they landed on her. "Miss me?"

Draco grinned devilishly as Hermione abruptly turned her head to the side. She didn't want to see him like this, drunk and… playful. How many times had their encounters started with Draco grinning at her just like he was now? Hermione didn't like the silent Death Eater, but the flirty, mischievous Draco was someone she had never been able to resist.

He tripped, dropping his wand and almost falling over when he bent down to pick it up. "Stupid…" he breathed out heavily, "fucking…" Draco grabbed onto the bars of the cage, propping himself up. Hermione could smell the fire whisky already.

Draco's eyes landed on her again and she could see him trying to focus. At least when he was drunk he had a harder time hiding his true feelings from her. Although right now, Hermione couldn't help but wish the lust was a little less blatant on his face because it was making her skin heat up to an uncomfortable level.

"You look so fucking cute when you do that," he slurred.

Hermione blinked.

"Oh fuck." Draco pressed his face into the bars, holding onto them on either side. He was breathing heavily, chest rising to press against the bars and then falling back, sinking down until it almost looked like it was caving in before he took another ragged breath and filled it again, all the while staring at her with hooded eyes.

"Do what?" she snapped, letting her frustration ring clear in her voice.

It must have jarred him because Draco pulled back a little. Then he gripped the bars tighter and his lids slid closed. "Bite your lip, Granger." He opened them again and reached his hand in through the bars, trailing it across the sheets right next to her leg. "Harder," his voice was hoarse. "Bite it harder."

"Stop it," Hermione said softly, releasing her lip which throbbed where her teeth had been digging into it. She stared at his hand and the silver Malfoy ring on it. His fingers danced across the soft sheets until they reached hers, rearing up like a snake about to strike. He dropped them heavily back down against the bed.

"I can't." Draco sighed. "I can't, Sweetheart."

"You did before," Hermione said in a small voice. "On the tower. Harry…" she glanced up at him and this time his eyes didn't harden like granite at the mention of Harry. "He told me what you did."

Draco stared down at her for what felt like a short eternity. Hermione had a thousand questions she wanted to ask and twice as many things she wanted to tell him. There was a storm brewing in his eyes and Hermione tried to follow the thoughts as they swirled in the haze of grey. She leaned forward, closer to him. She knew what he tried to do, for her. And now she was here and they were together.

He could do it again, right? He would, for her… wouldn't he?

"Draco," she reached for his hand.

Draco's stayed perfectly still, only the finger with the ring on it jumped slightly. "Didn't fucking matter."

Hermione paused. "Didn't matter? But-"

"You still ran."

Yes, but not from him. "I didn't-"

"But I found you, kitten." His easy smirk was back. "I found you and brought you here and you… you think you're going to leave, but you're not."

Hermione's heart jumped into her throat.

Draco pulled his hand back down, letting the back of his fingers brush against her thigh. "Neither of us are. We'll be here forever. Together." Draco dragged his wand over the bars and they disappeared, creating a space just large enough for him to fit through. He leaned over her and Hermione fell back against the bed, Draco following her.

Hermione hated how good he felt on top of her. The familiar smell of sweet whisky, crisp mint, and creamy parchment was so strong she closed her eyes, letting her head sink back into the soft pillow as his firm body settled on top of hers.

Draco's breath rolled down her neck as his hand softly slid over her waist, coming to rest on her ribcage just under her breast. His hands were cool, softly stealing the heat from her skin.

"Burn…"

She opened her eyes. "What?"

Draco pulled his bottom lip into his mouth, sucking on it slightly.

"Burn me. Love me. Fuck me."

The same second his lips hit herself Hermione shoved her hands into his chest, pushing him off of her. His heavy frame bounced on the bed slightly, making him groan and heave dryly for a moment, trying to keep the liquor down.

There was a small jingle and Hermione watched Crookshanks nimbly jump from the bed through the opening in the cage. Open. The cage was open.

Hermione lunged forward.

Draco grabbed her around the middle, strong arm encircling her and pulling her back into his solid chest.

"You're not going anywhere, Sweetheart," he growled heavily into her ear and Hermione watched as he waved his wand with his other hand and the bars jumped into place, locking her back in.

"No!" she cried, unable to stop the despair that rose up from the broken bits of her heart.

"Don't be so sad, kitten," he said in his deep voice, hand spreading out across her lower abdomen. The feel of his flesh against hers sent a shiver down her spine. "I'm in here with you."

His hands moved over her, sliding over her hip bone and down to bruised bite, tracing it with his fingers. His other ran up her chest, in between the cups of her bra, to her neck, turning her chin so that her face was twisted around towards his. Hermione whimpered as he pressed his face against the side of hers, opening his mouth and letting his teeth graze across her cheek.

His other hand came to rest over her thin knickers, pushing her lower body back against his and Hermione felt his hard length pressing against her bum and back.

"Draco-"

"Right here, kitten," he breathed out into her ear, running his tongue along the shell of it. "Right fucking here."

Hermione gasped as he thrust his hips against her, tightening his hold on her neck ever so slightly. The pressure was wonderful. She never wanted him to let go.

She just wanted out of the cage.

His cage.

Her cage.

"I don't want to be here."

She could feel Draco's body tense up, holding her tightly and she was pretty sure that if he let go she would break apart into a million pieces.

"I don't want-"

Draco's arms slid from around her, leaving her laying there as he rolled over to the other side of the bed.

She looked over at him as Draco faced away from her. He hadn't even bothered to undress. Even his boots were still on. Because he could get up and get out anytime he wanted. He could just leave if he got mad again.

Well, she wasn't mad; Hermione was furious. Draco didn't just get to run away again. He didn't get to lock her out. And he always let things slip when he had been drinking, this might be her only chance to get a straight answer from him. "Draco, we need to talk about this."

"I know what you don't want," his words came slowly, weighed down by the whisky. "You don't want... someone like me- to love you." He looked over his shoulder, glaring at her with bloodshot eyes. "But I do. So you're just going to have to find a way to live with it, Granger, because I'll love you till the day I die. Probably after too."

Oh God, her heart… How could he still make her feel like this after everything?

He turned away from her again. "Not that it will matter."

Hermione stayed there, waiting for him to turn back and… and yell or grab her or something. But he didn't. So eventually she settled herself back down into his bed and pulled the covers up over her. She wasn't used to sleeping in so little clothing and although the blanket was fluffy, it felt strange on her bare skin.

Even lying beside Draco, Hermione felt more alone than she had in months. She missed Harry. She missed Ron. But more than anything, she missed Draco the way he had been. Even if it had only been for one night, it had been enough to make her never forget. She knew the real Draco, knew the man who he could be. Who he was. And this wasn't him.

Tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes as she stared up at the high canopy, constellations embroidered on it with shining, silver thread. She wanted to be his, she did. She had just wanted to make that choice herself. Maybe she had and maybe this is what it meant. She sniffed, wiping her eyes, not wanting to keep crying here in silence while Draco passed out next to her.

But Draco was not asleep. She heard him shift in the bed and got the uncanny feeling that he was watching her. Hermione tilted her head against the pillow and was met with eyes as bright as mercury in the darkness. She didn't remember falling asleep, didn't remember tossing in the sheets or moving across them.

The only thing she remembered was waking up in Draco's arms, then pulling herself out of them before he could tighten them around her again.

.

"Get dressed." Draco threw clothes onto the bed, hitting Hermione in the face with them before they fell onto the blanket she had wrapped tightly around her, trying to do her best to cover herself up.

When he had wrenched the bedroom door open, the lamps along the wall had jumped to life, casting surprisingly bright light into the darkened room. Hermione had lifted her hand to shield her eyes when the clothes bounced off her face and landed on top of Crookshanks who had planted himself in her lap and not left all day.

She blinked, looking around the room she had been staring at for hours, but now without the bars around the bed. He must have taken them down when he turned on the lamps. Hermione glanced at Draco who was locking the door behind him, his wand moving in complicated patterns over the handle. So much effort just to keep her in here. Even if he didn't chain her back up, and even if he didn't put the bars of the cage back up, how was she ever going to break out of here without a wand?

Did she even want to leave? This room, yes; Draco… no. Hermione bit her lip as she heard the door seal itself with Draco's magic. If he was going to keep her locked away then… maybe? The war was still going on and she still wanted to fight and help Harry. She couldn't stay in Draco's bed forever. But the thought of it sent a shiver down her spine.

Draco stuck his wand in his pocket and turned back to the bed, crossing his arm over his chest. His face was like stone with not a single indication of the thoughts that lay behind it. His lids hung low over his eyes and he took long, languid steps towards the bed. Hermione didn't move, she merely stared up at him, hoping her own thoughts were half as well hidden as his. She had just spent the day laying in his bed, with his smell all around her. That combined with the never ending back and forth thoughts in her head has exhausted her.

And being this close to him was a temptation she wasn't sure how long she could stand up to.

Crookshanks stood up, walking out from under the balled up clothes. Hermione picked something green up. A shirt. Finally something she could wear! Briefly she was reminded of house elves and how an item of clothing bought their freedom from their masters. She turned the shirt around to slip it over her head, but stopped when she saw bold print across the back of the shirt spelling out MALFOY. She wasn't an elf and these clothes weren't going to set her free because they weren't really hers. Like everything else in here, they were his.

"Where are we going?" Hermione asked, dropping the shirt back to her lap as Crookshanks butted her hand with his head, wanting her attention back on him. If he was going to take her somewhere, she wanted to know exactly where and what the plan was. She had made that mistake before, in the Room of Requirement, she wasn't going to make it again. Until she had all her questions answered, she wasn't going to go anywhere or do anything Draco wanted her to.

Draco watched Crookshanks' movement with calculating eyes. "Put it on."

As much as she wanted to wear actual clothes, she wasn't about to be ordered around by him. Not until he told her what was going on. However, he had already shown he had no problem making her do what he wanted, but she didn't think he would put her under the Imperius curse just to get her to put on a shirt.

Draco had hardly said anything to her this morning and then stormed out like he always had. And this time, she didn't have the luxury of going anywhere herself to cool off. Draco had seen to that as well. She was still upset and now he would have to deal with her. Hermione shoved the clothes off of her lap, letting Crookshanks jump back into it.

Draco finally met her gaze, glaring at her with eyes as hard as iron.

"Answer my question and I will consider it." Hermione did her best to keep her voice calm. Maybe they were leaving together? Maybe he had only brought her here because she was sick and now that she was doing better they could leave. Maybe the dark, haunted look in his eyes was just her imagination.

His jaw clenched and she watched a muscle in his neck jumped. A few of her own contracted as well. At least they were not visible. There wasn't much she could hide from him in her current state.

Draco had the curtains drawn over the windows when he had left earlier and only pale stretches of light had slid in. When she thought enough time had passed and she couldn't hear him moving around outside the door anymore, she had pulled back the covers and taken a look at herself.

Even with the weak light she was able to see the dark outline of the bruised bite on her inner thigh. Why had she kept it? Draco might have said exactly what she wanted to hear, but what he had done was the opposite of that. She had been so confused, for so long. Reading about him in the Prophet and then Harry telling her what he said on the tower… It was like there were two people living Draco's life and she didn't know which one was really him.

The right thing to do would have been to move on, focus on the mission and on Harry and the war, but every night she had still traced her fingers over the tender skin, taking comfort in the familiar movement and pretending it was him. She would close her eyes against the tears she refused to cry when the guilt in her rose up, pushing them behind her eyes and let the heavy pump of her heart drown out the thoughts in her head.

He had seen it on her. Of course he had, there was no missing it when she was undressed and Draco had certainly not wasted any time getting her clothes off. But now he was giving her new ones? She spread the shirt out in front of her, reading his name on it again. It had to be too small for him now, especially with his recent… growth spurt.

On closer inspection she saw the faint outline of Slytherin house on it as well, faded over time, but still there. It must have been an old Quidditch shirt of his. And the shorts he tossed her… they weren't shorts at all. They were boxers. Also clearly not able to fit him anymore, but they weren't faded like the shirt was. These looked brand new. It didn't matter; they were still his.

"I'm not wearing your clothes."

Draco's expression did not waver.

"I want mine."

"No."

"Draco-"

"I said no." His voice had an edge to it. "Now put those on. Someone is here to see you."

Hermione's heart skipped a beat and for just a moment her insides froze in fear. Who could possibly be here to see her? Draco wouldn't go to all of this trouble just to turn her over the Lord Voldemort. And how would he explain the fact that she was in his bed to his Master? Who else would be here to see her though? Her fingertips tingled, longing for a wand in them.

Her mind raced, trying to find an answer in the short amount of time it took Draco to finish crossing the room. He stopped at the side of the bed and Hermione pulled back when he reached out. But Draco's hands never touched her. They latched around Crookshanks and picked him up, walking him back over the the velvet chaise she had spent at least an hour staring at before and whispered, "You know you're not allowed on the bed," in a harsh tone before dropping Crookshanks somewhat unceremoniously onto the cushion.

In the few seconds it had taken him to remove Crookshanks, there was only one person who had popped into her head as her potential guest.

"Harry?" Hermione asked hopefully. Maybe Draco had brought him here too. Maybe he was just in another room, recuperating like she was and now Draco was going to let her see him! After spending every day and almost every hour with him over the last few months, Hermione couldn't stand the idea of losing Harry too. Not when Ron was gone and Draco was… whatever he was these days. But if he had saved Harry too then it proved that he was still the same man who had shouted that he loved her on the tower and tried to spare Dumbledore's life. And with Draco on their side, they might be able to figure out where more of the horcruxes were hidden.

Ron hadn't been entirely wrong when he said that Draco knew secrets about dark magic, even if he had only said it to hurt her.

However Draco's reaction to hearing Harry's name again stole the last little shred of hope she had. He looked over his shoulder, lip curling and eyes storming so violently that Hermione bunched the blanket up over herself farther and sunk down in the bed a few inches. Something dark slithered behind his stoic expression and Hermione felt a coil of nerves tighten around her stomach.

He looked more like a Death Eater in that second than she had ever thought possible.

She couldn't make sense of any of this. One moment Draco was brushing his fingers over her cheek and murmuring how much he missed her and the next he was just as cold and distant as he had been for the first six years she had known him. Cruel too. Where was the person who had smiled and told her he loved her in the Room of Requirement? Maybe he had never left that room because this Draco was… different. He looked familiar, but something had happened to the Draco she had fallen in love with.

Oh. Hermione blinked, watching him looking bored as he stared at the chain laying on the ground next to the bed. Hermione looked down at the metal links sitting softly on top of the thick rug. She should have known or recognized who he looked like. She had known him longer, after all.

This wasn't Draco.

This was Malfoy.

"I won't fucking tell you again, Granger," he snapped. "Put the fucking clothes on or I'll dress you myself."

Hermione's hands closed into fists around the shirt. What choice did she have? None. Draco had taken every single choice away from her ever since he had placed the Imperius curse last year. What choice did she have when he left her on the ground? What choice did she have when she was crying every day for weeks in her room? What choice did she have when Death Eaters attacked the wedding and she had to run?

None. None of this had been her choice. None of this had been what she wanted. What she wanted was him. Draco. Even with the mark as long as-

"I swear on Salazar's watery grave-" he growled and took another step towards her.

Hermione swiftly gathered up the shirt and boxers, knowing how quick his Seeker skills made him.

"I'll put them on," she mustered, forcing herself to sound harsh.

Draco's eyes narrowed.

Hermione waited, but Draco just continued to stare at her and she waited for him to look away. It was like being back in fifth year all over again. "Turn around!"

Just because he had seen her before, didn't mean he got to watch her dress.

For the first time since he had walked back into the room, she thought she saw a ghost of a smirk on his face. Maybe her Draco was still somewhere in there, hidden underneath black robes and a Death Eater mask.

"I mean it, Malfoy!"

The playfulness disappeared immediately and Hermione stifled a gasp at what she had done. She hadn't even meant to, it just… slipped out because she had been thinking about it and reading it on the shirt over and over! Before she could correct herself or tell him it was a mistake, Draco turned on his heel. The muscles in his back tightened against his shirt and he faked nonchalance as he leaned against the post of the bed, watching Crookshanks lick his paw on the chaise.

"Hurry up." It barely even sounded like him. The voice was hollow. Empty.

For one moment she thought about trying to run. Get to the door and maybe she could try and break the handle? She didn't think so though. And with her ankle hurt she wasn't even sure she could get to the door. At least not without Draco catching her first.

Hermione carefully placed her ankle through the boxers, pulling them over her legs and up around her waist then started on the shirt, untucking her curls from the back of it and adjusting it as best as she could.

"Okay," Hermione curled her knees up. "I'm done."

Draco turned back around and took a moment to take in her appearance. He looked drained and despondent as he walked back towards her. She glanced up at his face, watching the fine features shift ever so slightly as his eyes moved up her legs, over her hips and then to her chest and neck before landing on her face again when he stopped at the edge of the bed.

Hermione's head was tilted almost all the way back. Yes. Draco had definitely gotten taller.

His hair was shorter too, cropped closer on the sides now. It looked good on him, but then again, Hermione couldn't imagine what wouldn't look good on someone like Draco.

"It suits you." No smile accompanied the words, but Hermione knew him well enough to know the way his eyes drifted back down to her body again meant that it was more than a polite compliment.

She could feel herself blushing as his gaze lingered on her thighs and Hermione pulled at the boxers, scooting them down her legs a little. Draco looked like whatever thought he was enjoying had been stolen from him and let out a low breath.

"Draco-"

He didn't look at her. Instead he grabbed her wrist and locked the cuff of the chain around it again.

"No!" Hermione grabbed at it, knowing it was useless, but not able to stop herself from fighting back. She pulled on it, but the clasp was sealed and there was no getting it off now. "Draco, wait!"

He did not spare another word on her before walking over to the door and running his wand over it.

Steeling herself against whomever was about to walk through the door, Hermione let her Gryffindor courage roar in her. She took a deep breath, held it, and sat up straight. She had faced down Death Eaters, had broken into the Ministry, and survived on the run for months with little more than her wand and wits. And even without her wand, she was still Hermione Granger fully capable of taking care of herself.

Her heart beat in a faint echo of Draco in her tense chest.

Hermione bit her lip as the door swung open and Draco's tall frame stopped her from seeing whoever had come to see her. She listened to his deep voice as he said, "Thank you for coming." There was the sound of hands clasping together roughly and then Draco moved to the side and Hermione's lip fell from in between her teeth as Blaise Zabini walked into the room.

He looked just as surprised to see her as she was sure she looked to see him. The whites of his eyes expanded as they popped from his head, staring straight at her in disbelief. Hermione shifted a little, wanting to pull her legs up close to her, but she didn't want to show any weakness right now. She was a lion in a snake pit and couldn't afford to take a false step. So instead, Hermione shook back her curls from her face and stared right back into Zabini's black eyes.

She was a little thrown to find there was no malice in them. But then again, he had never really been one of the Slytherins who made fun of her, Harry and Ron. That had been Draco, Pansy, and Theo. Blaise Zabini had always just rolled his eyes and went back to his notes. He had never even cared enough to make fun of them.

Hermione watched as he slowly moved into the room, clearly nervous. Draco shoved him further in and slammed the door back, muttering as he locked it with twists of this wrist. This time, however, he did not pocket his wand, but kept it in his hand.

Zabini finally turned away from her and back to Draco. "You said you had something you wanted me to look at."

Draco stayed perfectly still. "Yes."

Scoffing, Zabini waved his hand in Hermione's direction. "That's not a something, that's Hermione Granger!"

Well, at least he thought she was human. And if Draco brought Zabini here then he must trust him. Maybe hearing that from a friend would jog something in Draco's clearly muddled mind and he would remember that he couldn't keep her here like a pet.

"I know who she is, Blaise." Draco's voice held a hint of a warning in it.

Zabini looked back over to her and Hermione met his eyes without hesitation. Before she could say or do anything he turned back to Draco. "Draco, what did you do?" he hissed.

Draco bristled slightly. "Nothing. She was like that when I found her."

Like what? Hermione looked between the two men quickly. Was… was there something wrong with her?

"Why do I find that hard to believe?" Zabini sneered.

Draco gripped his wand tighter. "I didn't hurt her, Blaise. I saved her."

Saved? He thought he saved her?! She was about to protest, but they seemed more interested in shouting at each other than listening to what she had to say.

"Yeah, looks like she really wants to be here!"

Draco stepped up to Zabini.

"You've got her chained to the bed for Salazar's sake!"

The chain. Hermione felt heat rush into her face at the fact that someone had seen her in this position. As much as she wanted to cover it up and hide her face, she wouldn't cower. Just because she was chained didn't mean she was giving up or giving in to Draco.

Not until he climbed back in the bed again tonight and her weakness got the better of her.

"It's not what you think-"

"It's exactly what you think," Hermione retorted and Draco swung his head in her direction, glaring coldly at her.

She returned it with all the heat and fire of her embarrassment. She had nothing to feel ashamed of, this was all his doing. Let him feel it then.

Draco clenched his jaw, biting back what she was sure he actually wanted to say to her, but wouldn't in front of Zabini. Or maybe he just didn't want to make this any worse. It was impossible to tell and she felt like everything she had learned about Draco last year was suddenly… wrong. Or maybe he was.

"Shut up, Granger," he growled.

Zabini glared harshly at Draco. "Going to get her a gag to match that chain?"

Hermione stopped the gasp in her throat as Draco's mouth twitched. She remembered him joking about gagging her back in the Restricted Section. Goodness, that seemed like a lifetime ago. Still, the memory made something deep in her tighten in response.

"I brought you here for a reason, Blaise. She's hurt. And sick."

"She's not the only one," Zabini grumbled and Draco narrowed his eyes back at him, the muscles in his arm tightening into hard lines.. Hermione looked quickly between the two friends. There was something there she was missing. This wasn't normal banter; Zabini was… upset with Draco. Maybe she would be able to use that to her advantage.

Hermione coughed loudly, making it sound worse than it really was. Her ploy worked. Zabini's head swung in her direction and he started towards her, pulling out his wand. Hermione stiffened and glanced over at Draco who was watching her with storming grey eyes. She expected him to tell her it was okay or explain why he had brought Zabini here, but he didn't give her as much as a small nod to reassure her.

"May I?" Zabini was beside her, motioning with his wand towards her head. Oh. Right. She had almost forgotten hitting her head in the woods. Hermione scooted away from the edge of the bed a little, pulling on the hem of Draco's shirt nervously. "I just want to make sure Draco didn't make anything worse by trying to heal you himself."

W-what?

"Should have called me as soon as he got you here," Zabini shook his head, sighing a little. "Open and say 'Ah'."

Hermione was so shocked that she did as he asked and opened her mouth, giving a small "Ahh."

Draco inhaled quickly and Hermione closed her mouth back, glancing over at him. If possible, his expression seemed to have gotten colder.

"Hmm." Zabini tapped his chin. "Hold still."

Hermione sat up straight and locked eyes with Draco who was still standing at the foot of the bed, unmoving. Zabini was muttering softly and Hermione could feel a small burst of warmth on her forehead, spreading over her scalp making it tingle.

Draco's eyes never left hers. Her lips parted and she took a small breath, feeling the warmth begin to fade and a cool chill passed down her spine, making her quiver. Of course, Draco noticed. The hard expression on his face softened and he blinked slowly, almost in relief.

"How does your head feel now?"

Hermione was jarred by Zabini's question and touched her forehead which no longer felt swollen or sore.

"Much- much better, thank you."

He nodded. "Of course."

Hermione glanced back at Draco. The softness was gone, solidified back into unmoving marble.

"Her ankle too," he added. She was surprised, in a way, that he brought it up. With her ankle healed, he had no excuse to keep her in the bed. Well, no excuse other than he liked seeing her in it. And honestly, that might be enough for him to keep her chained to it indefinitely. She looked back up at him, hoping for another glimpse behind the mask, but Draco was staring down at her leg now.

Hermione moved her ankle so it was closer to Zabini who hmm'd again and waved his wand over it.

"Sprained."

"I was able to run on it though."

"What?" Zabini sounded upset again.

Hermione cleared her throat, ignoring the tickle in it. "When he was chasing me-"

"You fucking chased her? Ran her down on a sprained ankle?!" Zabini was shouting and Hermione was worried that Draco might curse him or hit him based on the fury in his eyes. He wasn't hiding behind a mask now. Maybe he only reserved that for her now.

"I didn't tell her to run."

"And I suppose that justifies it? That she deserves to be hurt because she ran from you?"

Draco sniffed and stared down at the empty spot in the bed next to her.

"Fucking idiot." Zabini focused his attention on her ankle and Hermione felt the same warmth encircling it, moving up her calf. It grew in intensity, almost to a burning and Hermione gasped a little, wincing and closed her eyes.

Suddenly it was gone. The charm was unintentionally pulled quickly, uncurling from around her ankle.

"What the fuck?!"

Draco had Zabini's wrist in his hand and was pushing him back from the side of the bed.

"You're hurting her," he growled.

"I was healing her!" Zabini protested. "She damaged the ligaments- running away from you!"

Hermione leaned forward. "Draco-"

"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about."

"Draco-"

"She didn't run once she knew it was me!"

Zabini snorted. "You mean once you took your Death Eater mask off?"

Draco's entire body stiffened and Hermione saw his wand shaking in his hand. Zabini glanced nervously down at it too, twisting his own around in his hand to get a better hold on it. Draco was barely restraining himself and she was worried if Zabini said anything else Draco might lose control.

The thought scared her.

"Draco," Hermione whispered his name. "Please."

He looked back at her, something brightly painful flashing in his eyes. Like a freshly sharpened knife.

It disappeared deep inside him.

Hermione wanted to follow it down, to find what Draco was hiding. Or at least where he was hiding. The metal mask wasn't the only one he wore, there was the marble one too.

Draco let go of Zabini and took a few steps back, running his hand up through his hair and taking a deep breath.

"This is the last time I'm helping you," Zabini snapped.

"Fine." Draco's voice was flat again, emotionless.

Zabini looked Draco up and down shaking his head. "When you get your ass handed to you by another werewolf or worse-"

Werewolf?! What was Draco doing with a werewolf?

"He got the worst of it," Draco snarled, a cold smirk twisting on his face. "Trust me."

Hermione blanched. Draco had fought a werewolf… and won?

"I do," Zabini said in a low voice. "And that's the problem."

"Must be nice if your best friend being an asshole is your biggest problem."

Zabini rolled his eyes and glanced over to Hermione, his gaze lingering on her for a moment. "I'm done here."

She had the distinct impression that Blaise Zabini was saying two things at once. Hermione nodded in understanding.

He tucked his wand into his jacket and carefully moved around Draco who looked like he was using all his energy just to breathe calmly right now.

Hermione's heart ached. Draco had always been rough around the edges, but now he was practically… corroded. She had been holding onto the memory of him for so long, building it up in her mind, letting herself dream of him. Even keeping the mark on her thigh in hopes that… that… she wasn't sure what she had been hoping for all this time, but it hadn't been this.

Maybe just that it had been real, for a few short moments, Draco had been hers. Not his Father's heir, not his Master's servant, not anything but the man who loved her and let her love him back.

But the person in front of her now was not the Draco who had held her in that big white bed. Or the one who had bent her over the chaise. Or the one who had shoved her against the shelves of the Restricted Section and opened up a part of her she hadn't wanted to close back.

Because it had been Draco. It had always been Draco.

But this wasn't. Not anymore.

"Wait!"

Zabini turned around at the sound of Hermione's voice.

She swallowed against the burning lump in her throat. "There's one more thing."

Hermione left Draco's eyes on her as she pulled up the boxers on her thigh. He took a quick step towards her as she moved the fabric higher, but stopped when she softly said, "This."

The bruised bite mark was just as clear as the day he had made it and Hermione felt her cheeks redden as she tried to explain, not able to look directly at Zabini's face, but also unable to miss the look of shock on it.

"T-there is a-a stasis charm on it-t, so you'll have to remove that first and then…" she trailed off.

Hermione tried to blink the line of water from her eyes and sucked down a shaking breath.

"Are you sure?" he asked softly, like he knew what this meant to her. For her.

Hermione nodded, a few loose curls falling into her face. She was thankful for the small amount of cover they provided.

"Granger-" Draco's voice was so full of longing it echoed in the open crack in her chest.

She didn't look over at him. She couldn't. Because if she saw the flash of her Draco in those mist grey eyes-

"I'm sure."

She didn't even feel the warmth of this healing charm; she didn't feel anything but the aching emptiness where her heart was breaking all over again. Hermione doubted Zabini could do anything about that though.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Zabini nodded in response. "If-" he pursed his lips, "if you need my help, or… need… anything, just tell Draco. He knows where to find me."

Hermione wanted to cry. Why was he offering to help her? Zabini didn't know her, didn't care about her. And his friendship with Draco was obviously in a bad place. Still, he was willing to come back here if she wanted him to.

"We'll be fine." Draco was at her shoulder, fists at his sides. "We're together now and everything is going to be fine."

Zabini looked between them and Hermione was able to pick up on her worry on his face much easier than she was able to read Draco's.

"Thank you, Zabini," she said.

"Blaise. You can call me Blaise."

She wasn't going to be able to hold back the tears much longer.

"Well now that we're all best pals, it's time for you to go before this turns into a sleepover."

Blaise sneered at Draco.

"You're not braiding her hair. Or mine."

"Fuck you."

Draco smirked. "None of that, at least, not while you're still here."

Hermione didn't even get a chance to say goodbye before they were headed towards the door, Draco quickly locking it back as soon as Blaise was on the other side.

He looked back at her for a moment, opened his mouth and then closed it. Waiting a moment before finally speaking.

"Are you feeling better?"

She bit her lip and nodded. Her thigh felt strange without the tender bruise on it. She had gotten so used to the slight pain that now that it was gone, she missed it.

"Good." Draco's voice gave as little away as his face. "I- I'll go get you some more Pepper Up."

"Draco-"

"I'll be back."

"Draco-"

"I promise."

The door closed behind him and Hermione was cast into darkness as the lamps went out and the bars of the bed slid up from the base, locking into place against the canopy.

.

He shouldn't be here. He knew it. But there wasn't anywhere else he could go. Blaise was done with him, he knew that too. His one friend, his only friend, and Draco had pushed him away like he did everyone else in his life that dared to care about him. Hell, he hadn't spoken to his Mother since Christmas morning. And his Father… he couldn't even remember the last time they had a conversation. Not that Lucius had anything interesting to say these days, mostly just calling for an elf to bring him another bottle of wine.

Drunken lech.

Draco walked up the steps and shook his arm, trying to dispel some of the ache under the mark. It was a dull pain, sinking deep into the muscles there, pinching his veins and making the nerves throb.

If it didn't stop soon, he was going to Crucio himself just to numb it.

He'd have to be careful though; Blaise said there was damage already done and he didn't have a Healer under his hands anymore.

Bellatrix was intimately familiar with the curse though, maybe he would ask her. She was the one who taught him how to cast it after all.

Draco lifted his hand and pounded his fist on the door. When no one answered he chewed on the inside of his lip.

Merlin, he hated waiting.

He couldn't fucking believe he was here, of all places.

But he couldn't stand to be in the room with Granger for another second. He barely made it into his study before his chest seized up and he pressed his hands hard into his desk, trying to breathe, counting to three, doing everything his fucking Mum taught him and none of it worked.

So why not try the other woman who he had learned from?

The door opened and Draco felt his spine harden in preparation. Shit, he should have gotten drunk before coming here.

"Nephew!" Bellatrix spread her arms wide in a welcoming gesture, tucking her chin down and laughing a little. Draco knew her familial tone and friendly stance was not an invitation to embrace. Bellatrix Lestrange was not a hugger.

And neither was he. Except with Granger. He had woken up with her nuzzling her face into his chest, her cute nose pressing against one of the puckered scars. Draco hissed in surprise. No one had touched them since… since her. The same jolt ran through them like the first time she touched them and Draco felt his blood heat up underneath them, pulsing along the white lines.

Granger let out a small sigh and he very carefully stretched his arm out, curling it around until it was pressed against her back. For just a little while, it felt like she wanted this, wanted him. Draco breathed in easily, allowing the thick smell of cinnamon and vanilla to fill his senses and carry him back to sleep. With his girl in his arms.

No, she wasn't just his girl, she was more than that now.

She was his only.

The only one who could drive him this fucking crazy that he wound up at the Lestranges' hoping to blow off some steam.

"Hello Bellatrix," Draco kept his voice as calm as possible. "We missed you at Christmas dinner."

It was a lie. His Father had refused to allow his Mother to invite the Lestranges and Draco had been all too happy not to have to deal with his mental aunt, her hunkering husband, and his insane brother for another family meal. Narcissa had been livid, but Lucius had been firm and when she looked to Draco for support, he merely poured himself a glass of his Father's blood red wine and kept his eyes on the flickering fire. Eventually, she gave in. She always did.

"Such a sweet boy to come all this way just because you missed your Auntie Bella." She reached out and patted his cheek.

Draco stiffened and his lip curled in revulsion when her cracked nails raked across his skin. He ignored the unpleasant shiver that followed.

He wasn't a boy. And he wasn't sweet. But most of all, that wasn't why he had come here.

"It was rather quiet this year without you."

"Hmm," Bella sniffed, sticking her nose in the air and shaking her mangled locks of twisted hair. There was no love lost between Lucius and Bellatrix, but she had still been willing to train him, by order of the Dark Lord of course. She had shown him how to use his pain to create agony in others. She had taught him to kill.

"But just because you were not able to attend does not mean we have to give up our Christmas tradition."

He was numb. The heart in his chest was beating quickly, but he was barely able to feel it. All he felt was the dull ache in his arm and the empty fucking hole inside him.

Bellatrix's chapped lips broke open in a wicked smile, cracking as they pulled over rotten teeth. Merlin, Azkaban had really done a number on her. The crazed gleam in her eye at his suggestion solidified his opinion. He would rather die than ending up like she had. If they ever tried to take him in, he'd make them kill him first. And shit like what he was about to do would earn him a first class ticket to the prison in the North Sea.

He shouldn't be here. He should be with Granger, pulling on her curls and making her whine as he bent her over the bed, fucking her hard and fast and coming all over her freshly whipped ass. But he was here. Because people like Bellatrix never turned him down or sent him away. The Death Eaters and the Dark Lord would never let him go.

Not like Granger who would leave him in a second if she could. That's why she was safely tucked away in the cage while he was out making sure that no one suspected him of having a Mudblood in his bed. He had to keep her safe, and being a Death Eater was the only way to do that.

Bellatrix pulled out her crooked wand. "And I thought you didn't like spending time with me anymore, Draco. Like Lucius. Thinks a little fun is below him."

Draco twisted the Malfoy ring around on his finger making the bright silver shine in the light coming from behind Bellatrix. "I'm not my Father."

Her dark eyes held his steadily and the longer Draco looked into them, the less he saw. The Dementors had eaten away at sanity until it was in tatters. Just like her soul.

If she ever had one in the first place, that is.

But of course she did. And she had sold it, just like he had.

"I think," her chapped lips pulled wide in a sick smile, "You might be more of a Black than a Malfoy."

Draco stared back at her, clearing any expression off his face. "What I am, is bored. Are you coming or not?"

His aunt squealed happily, jumping up and down. "I know exactly where we should go!"

"Great," Draco drawled. "Then let's go."

Bellatrix descended down the steps with glee, already cackling and Draco forced all the thoughts of Granger away as he followed her into the black night.

.

A/N- I want to say thank you, from the bottom of my heart, to everyone who has reviewed, favorited, and followed. You have no idea what all that support means to me. I love you all so much!