Disclaimer: Not mine. Please don't sue.

Important A/N: Thus begins part two of my story. As I'm not sure how I'm going to divide the end, there will be either 4 or 5 parts in all. The change in parts indicates a movement in plot, time, and place. I use this separation partially to eliminate filler chapters I once had but I no longer see as necessary. Part one was: Hermione's Trap. Part two will be: Hogwarts. In other words, time has passed since the last chapter and some things have taken place you will learn about later if they are important. Also, I am at a crossroads with my rating. To all readers: please leave your vote in a review for how 'mature' you would like to read. Thank you again and I hope you enjoy!

Stolen

Part II

Chapter 14: Whispers Begin

Hermione approached platform nine and three quarters, for the first time, without her family. Mentally, she dared her eyes to water. She would have none of it. She was side by side with Draco as he said goodbye to his doting mother and his insufferable father. To Hermione, they said nothing.

As the typical conversation between her fiancée and his parents unfolded, Hermione's burning eyes searched the platform for signs of her friends. She found none. Harry and Ron would be late as usual, and Harry would have his security detail. She doubted she would get even the faintest glimpse of them, but her hope was to spot them for just a moment to lend her some cheer. She wished she could speak with them before they arrived at school, but she knew that to be an impossibility.

Draco turned and addressed her as a short balding man took their bags, "Hermione come." A command like one to a dog, but she obeyed it. She had to bite her tongue and control her leaping stomach, but she obeyed it. She had to disguise the gag in her throat her pride made as she swallowed it, but she obeyed it. She had to close her eyes briefly to keep from throwing him a heated and hateful glance, but, nonetheless, she obeyed it. But, she wondered how long it would be before she lacked the strength or self control to obey such a command? She wondered how long it would be before she killed Draco Malfoy.

'No Hermione.' She mentally shouted, shaking her head. 'You aren't going to kill anybody!' she reminded herself yet again.

She was not sure when the thought had first entered her head, or why it had chosen that moment to slip in, but it had snuck into her mind like thief in the night. At first, it had been a whisper she could not discern and she would wrinkle her brow at such moments, wondering what that noise had been. Then, the idea would leap into her dreams terrifying her at first, but the angrier she got with Draco, the more her subconscious lured out such images again until it became almost a routine. Every night she would begin with a nightmare, and then she would dream her captors' death and her freedom, and then wake every morning to find herself a prisoner still. Now, if she had not reached her freedom in the dream before she awoke, her mood was sour for the day and she looked forward only to going to sleep again.

She saw no need to write this in the diary. After all, her private dreams were hardly anything of substance to be related in a report. Instead, she babbled on mindlessly about how excited she was to return to school. That worked to please both readers, and often, as they read it, she imagined their reaction and smiled to herself with her secret. They were only dreams after all. She could hardly be expected to control her dreams.

The dreams still visited her occasionally, but now the whisper was audible and followed her always, reminding her over and over again whenever something happened to tempt her. Now, she wrapped a hand tight around the wand in her pocket and rubbed her fingers up and down it longingly. For school, she had gotten her wand back from Draco, because she needed it. Without it she had felt weak, cold, and incomplete. At last she was whole once more, her full power restored, bubbling under her surface like a tea pot ready to boil over. She held it in, reviling the feeling of it within her.

It was true; she was excited to return to school where she could go to class and excel again. She had certainly prepared enough. She had read every book twice and all those in her room's library that related to the material to boot. Now she would be able to practice the spells. She would blow them away this year, she was sure of it. There would be not limits on them as seventh years. The castle would be her freedom, even if she had to roam it in her mask.

The farce of her engagement to Draco was exhausting and there was no telling what surprises it would have up its sleeve for her this year. She knew she would have to wear the ring he had given her which was plain, but pretty enough and of great antiquity. She would have to choose not to associate with her friends, but, she supposed, she could use that time to delve more intensely into her studies. It would be different, yes, but it would still be school. At least she had that. She would be sleeping in Gryffindor tower instead of her room at Malfoy Manor. Then, she could at least be near her friends, even if she couldn't speak with them. Speaking with them, even in secret, would put them, and her, at too great of a risk. She prayed they would understand what she could not tell them and slipped her concerns into her diary.

There would be no talks with Hagrid and no journeys into the forest for the three of them this year. No trips to Hogsmeade or roaming the castle in the dead of night together this time around. She would not be there to save their grades. She would not be there to help organize the D.A. or to feed them information that they may need. This year, she could only be their friend at a distance.

Faces she passed on the train pulled her out of her thoughts. It was them, Harry and Ron, looking at her as if she were a very odd looking, out-of-place puppy, as she walked by hand in hand with Draco staring blankly ahead, ring on her finger, without a word of glance. They stood frozen still, eyes locked on her, until Draco pulled her into a compartment. Once inside, he slung himself across one of the seats, stretching out to take up the whole thing.

"Are you wearing your ring?" he asked her.

"Yes." She fingered the red gold band he had given her. It was simple and lovely. It felt cold on her finger.

"Keep it on." She nodded and looked out the window. Most of the journey she stared out that window at the same scenery she had passed the last six years, and was startled to see how unchanged the trees were, that the waters flowed in the same direction, and the same mountains remained intact. How could so much in her world have changed while the view out her window remained the same? Surely the mountains should have crumbled by now, waters change their course, and trees been dislodged from their homes. Surely with the outside the same as it had ever been then Harry and Ron must be sitting by her, not in a separate compartment. Surely it was Ron's snores that she heard rather than Malfoy's. Every time she checked the reflection in the glass, Draco still hovered behind her, looking bored if awake at all.

When they arrived at the castle, it was couples that climbed into carriages rather than groups of friends. She and Draco got one of the first. The tops were pulled because of the rain and they drew back curtains for privacy. No one joined them. She smiled. Soon, she would be rid of him, for the evening at least.

The halls of Hogwarts were the same as ever, familiar and solid and comforting. She lazily ran her hand along the rough stone of the banister of the entrance hall stairs, trying to hide her swelling excitement as she came closer and closer to parting with Draco.

The great oak door opened to a room unlike the one she had entered in the past. The changes that had occurred since the war began, however hidden by the timeless exterior of the castle, were all too obvious in the familiar great hall.

The four tables still remained, but all evidence of their former houses was gone. They were directed instead to a table for couples. The rest were seated at either the table for those in waiting, or divided into pure-bloods and muggle-borns. How did the ministry, or Voldermort, ever gain so much power in Hogwarts? The answer soon became clear. She had missed so much.

Headmistress McGonagall had been replaced by Snape. Though Snape was on their side, he also continued to stay, it seemed, in the Dark Lord's graces. How would this transform her beautiful Hogwarts? And how long would it be before it was completely taken over? Slowly, in utter disbelief, she followed Draco's lead to the table on the opposite side of the great hall as her friends. This wasn't right.

There was no speech of welcome; a lengthy list of rules was read in is place by Snape. There was no sorting, nor a song. Children were divided into muggle borns and magical. The sight of it made Hermione sick and she did not feel like eating. In silence the two swallowed down several bites. At another table, Harry, Ron, Ginny and Neville craned their necks to see her, but she was forced to pay them no mind. Draco watched her carefully, waiting for her to slip up. She caught him looking and, annoyed, sent him a sweet smile to get her message across. He dropped his eyes, glowering.

At their own table, they struggled to blend in with the happy couples. Some among them were truly sickening, holding hands, pressing up against each other, sharing food, smiling like morons. Others looked as miserable as she felt. From her seat across the table and several down, Hermione noted her favorite Slytherin, Pansy Parkinson. Her eyes were red and puffy, downcast. They watered. She looked longingly at Draco; Hermione glanced aside, feeling suddenly out of place. Pansy too turned away embarrassedly, displaying the other side of her face, which was badly bruised. A pang in her gut like a bucket of cold water dousing her insides hit her. She actually felt sorry for her rival.

Draco paid no mind. A gross, squishy noise demanded her attention to her left. The couple sitting on that side of her appeared to be slobbering all over each other. She turned away in disgust, hoping she wouldn't need to kiss Draco like that. Looking reluctantly at her, Draco wrapped a possessive arm around her waist. She tried her best not to flinch, understanding what had to be done, but somewhere in the back of her head a fire burned that nursed thoughts of pushing his arm away and slapping him across his smug face. She pushed it further back, bit her tongue, and kept her face expressionless. She nibbled on some pudding absentmindedly, choosing to ignore the hand sending unpleasant chills down her back as a hand rubbed small circles. He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, she felt, as odd as it sounded, violated. From the table over she heard a ruckus rise up and be suppressed. A shout rang out across the dungeon.

"Potter! Weasley! Longbottom! Detention."

Draco smiled grotesquely. His hand crawled up her thigh. Her stomach tightened. His breath pressed on her neck. Her breath hitched. His hot, wet mouth came down upon the crook of her neck she could not breathe, the knot tightened, and her eyes watered. Her hand leapt down and pinched the skin on his knee through his robes and slacks. His leg jerked. He backed off. They smiled at each other, his eyes burning in outrage and her watered with hurt. They looked away from each other, but moved unhappily closer. They did not speak or look at each other again.

They were dismissed to their rooms: pureblood students to the dungeons, half-bloods to the Gryffindor tower, those in waiting for mates to Hufflepuff dormitories behind the kitchens, and the married couples to the Ravenclaw tower. The black and blue, starry tower was pleasant enough, but it was no Gryffindor tower. Apparently, she wasn't the only one put out by this change. Draco too seemed to miss the gloomy, dank confines of his precious dungeon.

'I suppose one learns to love whatever they call home,' Hermione pondered. 'I suppose one gets used to things, even bad things, and then you are afraid to let go of them.' But she thought no more of it.

The two of them went to the dorm room labeled in black, flourishing words: Malfoy. Once the door shut, she looked questioningly at her fiancée.

"Married couples share a room, betrothed share a room with separate beds. Those still in waiting share another dorm. Which one do you want?"

She cocked her head to the side. He was offering her choice of the beds. Well, that was gentlemanly. She glanced over at the beds which were nearly identical, one black and silver, the other blue and black, with navy drape curtains around them both. Beside each was a wardrobe just as it was in the past for students, along with a bedside table, and a desk. Next to each wardrobe was a dressing screen which was, like the thick bed curtains, navy with silver stars.

She indicated the blue bed and moved her things there. Draco took the other side without a word. The two readied for bed in silence. She went to her desk to prepare for the following day's lessons, wishing she could research Horcruxes, or help Harry and Ron search the castle for them. Sadly, she was stuck in what was formerly known as Ravenclaw tower with a blonde idiot reading what he suspected was a dirty magazine behind his bed curtains. She rolled her eyes and let out another agitated huff, hoping he would get the message. Angrily, she turned the page of her Charms text. At least she was in school still. She should be happy for that. She should be, but she wasn't. She was too busy thinking of her friends who must be sleeping in the Hufflepuff dormitories. She wondered if they'd snuck into the kitchens to get a snack and visit Dobby. Behind her, a soft noise met her ears. Turning around, she saw a thin framed house elf adding wood to the fire. It must be later than she thought.

"Hello." The elf jumped in surprise.

"Oh…sorry miss."

"Oh you didn't wake me. I was up. Here let me help you." She bewitched the fire to keep it burning. "Now you won't have to keep doing that. Are you cold?" she asked, spotting the elf's bare feet on the cold floor.

"No ma'am. I-I'm fine."

"Alright." She yawned, knowing better than to argue for once.

"Can I bring Miss some tea?" Hermione thought about it. She thought very hard. She thought of how easy it would be to put the tea by his bedside, to keep it warm, to poison it.

"No thank you." She said quickly and, deciding she needed some sleep rather desperately, retired to bed after that. But she could not sleep. She kept tossing and turning, expecting to see Draco over her, his wand in hand and a wicked smile on his face…

The next morning, she rose for breakfast and went to classes. Except for being grouped by their marital and blood status rather than house it was Hogwarts as usual. It was admittedly disappointing to be followed by Malfoy every waking moment. It was, if possible, even more insufferable than living in the same house as him. He was inescapable. When she ate, he was there. When she studied, he was there. When she went to sleep he was there. He left his towel on the bathroom floor, and her coat started to smell like him from being on the rack next to it.

However she felt better each time he fudged a potion, every time she learned a new spell before him, every paper of his she glimpsed on which her grade was higher. It was like a little light of triumph in the dark mist that was living with Draco. As if that wasn't enough, he wanted to know her every move, but would he himself would disappear for hours at a time. She wondered vaguely where he went, but was too grateful for her freedom to find out. She still wrote in the dairy and it was easy- she was just sarcastic.

For example, "His undeniable need to be center of attention is actually quite charming," she lied. And, "His maturity is surprising," she said, when it was more like lack there of. In fact, writing her so called reports was the most amusing part of her day.

She was able to ignore him when she studied for the most part and not having Harry and Ron in her class or house meant she hardly saw them and therefore felt next to no temptation to speak to them. On the other hand, as days passed, feeling identical and strung together, Draco became more and more irritable and resentful. Although Hermione had always been the better student, Draco had never done so poorly. On top of that, he despised anything she did and often picked fights. He picked up the habit of pacing their room when he felt especially caged. Something was to be gained even by their fights she supposed, for now Hermione had much more dueling experience and was able to practice her defense against the dark arts homework.

During her day, now that she was free to use magic, she practiced every spell in her "handy house hold spells" and her "standard book of spells" collection. In addition to that, she was only 14 rows from finishing the Hogwarts library- a very exciting achievement. Without the adventurous distractions of her friends she was able to get some serious reading done. Of course, she had to admit to lying awake a few nights wishing for an invisibility cloak and just wondering how they were getting on without her. Her classes were going extraordinarily well and she was doing extra credit work and readying for exams to busy herself. A few times she did take a walk along the lake, watching the boys at Hagrid's cabin with such longing she thought her heart may burst. Also in secret, she had Dobby come to her room when Draco was away late, and she had even been known to climb out onto the roof outside her window when it wasn't too cold, just to see how afraid she would feel. In short, she was exceptionally bored. She knitted and read and practiced and walked while Draco did God only knows for weeks until she was called to Snape's office for the first time.

"Come in Miss Granger." Once the door was shut Hermione felt her mask slip off for the first time in weeks. It came slowly and with a bit of difficulty, but it came. It felt like hat one had removed; the weight of it was still there.

"We have a problem Miss Granger." She almost smiled at that. At last- excitement, challenge!

"Anything I can help with headmaster?"

"Yes, in point of fact, it is." Snape got right to the point. "You are doing too well."

"Sorry?"

"There is no use in being sorry for it Granger."

"No, I mean, I'm sorry Sir, but I don't understand."

"Lucius Malfoy will feel that you out-doing his son in unacceptable. You, a mudblood, will make his son look bad. You are to be a proper mud-blood and show inferior intelligence to Draco."

"Are you saying, Sir, that you want me to get poor grades on purpose?" she could not contain the outrage at this.

"Well, circumstances cannot continue as there are."

"What would you have me do then?"

"Well, you can, as you suggested, do poorly, or you can help Draco to do well." She gave him a hard look, contemplating.

"It's a good idea except for one thing."

"And what is that?"

"Draco would never let me teach him."

"Draco fears his father's retribution. Now I have only warned you what will happen if you continue to out shine young mister Malfoy academically when his father sees the two of your grades this term. Draco only knows his father will be displeased with him. He will, no doubt, be insulted to have you teach him, but if you keep it secret and remind him of this small fact he may be inclined to listen. That is all." After that very short meeting Hermione's life was again changed and once again she was faced with an impossible decision. She must now fail on purpose or tutor Draco.

There was another option, a whisper told her, but she hushed it and went to find Draco. She found him on the quidditch pitch. She asked respectfully before his teammates if she may have a word after he finished practicing. Slightly taken aback by her politeness as well as by her request, he kindly, if bluntly, agreed. That evening, they walked to dinner together and Hermione made to delicately breach the subject of her proposition.

"Well, what did you want to say to me Granger?"

"I had a thought today."

"How unusual." She ignored the jibe.

"It would be very unpleasant business for us should I do better than you in our marks this quarter." He shot her a warning look.

"Well, let's face it you have been doing your best."

"Well what do you expect having to live with-"

"My point being: it's not going to be pretty for either of us, but it'll be worse for you to have your intelligence showed up by a mudblood. I can't imagine your father being pleased."

"Your point?"

"I know you won't like it, but I swear if you'll keep it absolutely secret if you let me tutor you-"

"Are you out of your damn mind Granger?"

"No I'm not actually. It makes perfect sense. If you would stop being so stubborn and swallow your pride-"

"Never."

"Fine. Fine. Have I your way then. I tired."

They ate their dinner in silence as usual. There was nothing to talk about as they had shared their whole day and shared no common interests. Trying to seem not as sick of each other as they were, they forced themselves to look pleasant and converse. Draco told her a tasteless dirty joke and she pretended to be amused. They agreed the pudding was better than the previous night. She added that to her tally of agreements they had come to. Now it was up to eight. Yippee. He snaked an arm around her thinning waste and she tired to force down a few more bites in spite of her loss of appetite.

As they were leaving, Draco spoke. "I thought it over."

"How unusual," she threw back at him. He too ignored it.

"You have as much to lose as I do by this marks deal." She grew cautious. "I've come up with the perfect solution."

"Really? Let's hear it."

"From now on, you do my homework for me. I'm sure you've done it for your stupid Gryffindor buddies before, so don't go all noble on me and say you can't. Besides, it's not as though you have something better to do."

"But that won't improve your grades on exams of help you brew your potions or write better papers..."

"It'll be enough if you do it."

"They'll notice!"

"They won't say anything."

"We could get expelled!"

"Hmm…then I guess you better try really hard with that."

"If you just let me tutor you-"

"No." he said firmly.

Over the next week, Hermione did Draco's homework for him by studying his handwriting and writing style. Using this, she gave the impression that he had almost mastered the subject as to acquire a good grade without raising suspicion. She omitted details she would normally include from her own work to lessen the gap. She supposed if nothing else, writing two papers for each class helped her master the material even more thoroughly, and being able to match Draco's handwriting exactly may prove a handy skill. By the time a test rolled around, the results were not good. For the second time, Hermione was called to the Headmasters' office.

"Hermione," Snape began. "I gave you two options to solve the problem with Malfoy. Cheating was NOT one of them."

"Clearly you're displeased."

"Clearly."

"He won't let me tutor him, I didn't want to not do well, and when he suggested it-"

"Draco's father will be even less pleased to learn that his son is cheating off of a mudblood, trust me. I give you one last chance Grange: chose or I'll simplify it for you. Greatly simplify it."

His warning was foreboding. "Yes sir."

"That's all."

With a heavy heart she dragged herself to History of Magic where she was handed her test. Draco was slamming himself in the forehead as he looked at the questions about the wars he had never heard of. She sighed heavily, fatefully raised her quill, and proceeded to fail.

When it asked her: "Who was the leader of the first group of witches to flee to America in hopes of living in the New World without concealing their magic?" she wrote: "Abraham Lincoln". Many she answered correctly, four she got backwards, two she left blank as if she skipped them accidently, and five she purposely misspelled. In tears, she handed in her test in record speed and left abruptly. The next week when Binns asked her if she wished to retake it, she refused and left the classroom in a hurry for a Charms class that didn't start for twenty minutes.

That night Draco found her writing furiously at her desk. On parchment after parchment she had written the correct answer to every question on the test over and over. She scribbled feverishly, as if writing it all down would undo her failing grade and prove to everyone she knew it.

"What is that matter with you?" he asked, almost concerned. "It's one bad grade. Get a hold of yourself. It happens to everyone. You didn't get it-"

"I got it!" She yelled. "I got it. I knew it all. 1566. Augustus Pilke. Sir Martin Smith. All of it!"

"Then how'd you fail?"

"I did it so our grades wouldn't be so far apart." He looked dumbstruck.

"Y-You did it for me?" he stuttered.

"Don't flatter yourself, Draco!" she snapped, on the verge of tears once more. "I did it for both of us. If you'd just let me tutor you this never would have happened!" He was quite for a moment and she called too, realizing how odd she'd been acting a second ago. Then, it was her turn to be surprised.

"I guess it was a good idea."

"What?"

"You heard me. So, are you going to help me or not? We have a charms test tomorrow." He grabbed a book. She stared at him for a moment, the quickly gabbed a chair and went to work.

"Okay, now the most important thing we covered in this chapter…"

For hours they studied. First, she reviewed the basic concepts of the chapter in a nutshell, as she had given Harry and Ron over the years. Then, he read the paper she had written for him and even offered to read hers. She actually was rather surprised by his intelligence and his cooperation. She quizzed him briefly after he flipped through the book and they quickly practiced the spells he had trouble with in class. By the end of it, he was greatly improved, but it was the also notably the longest they had ever been civil to one another.

While they had been studying, tea had been brought up and the two finished it in a slightly awkward silence. Draco looked at the clock and swore under his breath. Hermione caught it.

"Miss an appointment?"

"No. It's just late. I think I'm going to get ready for bed."

"Oh yes, me too then." And so they did, in further silence. The next few evenings continued in a similar fashion. Slowly, out of more desperation than anything else, the two began to talk. It wasn't about anything of dire importance, nor was it anything particularly entertaining. Lessons, spells, battles, teacher and students were the majority of it, along with the weather, the meals, and headlines. It gradually evolved to include political jokes, jokes about others, and random thoughts. The usual bickering and bantering maintained a high level, as did mutual suspicion and dislike, but even their arguments were actual arguments. Some nights they would study, some nights he would disappear for a quidditch meeting or what she called a mini-death eater meeting. She took that time to relax for herself.

After a while of their fighting that ended in drank wands and a heated exchange of curses, the two if dueling was inevitable, which it seemed to be, the least they could do was make it the least bit productive. They decided what could be more productive then if they both taught each other what they knew and practiced it on each other to vent frustrations. The problem with this was both were then teaching a member of the company of their enemy their fighting skills, but the two finally reached agreement number nine. Their conclusion was essentially this: if they were to work together, each needed to know their partner could hold their own and have the other's back in a duel. It would help them both in classes, which was, after all, the point of this session. Both were willing to risk something in order to learn what they other knew. It was greed and suspicion that brought about their accord, and shame at their decision which kept it secret. Thus Draco learned what the D.A. knew and Hermione learned classic form of several uncharted dark spells. If they were going to be stuck together fighting it may as well be productive, and that it was. Practice alone improved both of their speed and precision.

Sometimes it got out of hand, though. Too much aggression came out and someone got hurt. Those were times when they learned healing spells. Other times they were just too sick of each other and had to be stuck around each other. Each picked a separate corner and a different book and they tried to refrain fro speaking.

Hermione had trouble writing in her diary about the events. How to explain that they spent hours together? She said they weren't fighting as much anymore and were studying during that time, which was partly true.

Once Draco was caught up they rarely studied. Instead they found somewhere deserted and lonely and dueled. Hermione got out all her anger, all her frustration, all her unused energy then. She was disturbed at how much she enjoyed seeing Draco get so angry. She had not forgotten how handsome he looked when he became truly enraged. It disturbed her, but she couldn't stop herself from doing it again. Sometimes she wondered what he was getting out of it, but quickly forgot it as a hex tore her flesh.

A/N: Well, it was tad short, but what did you think? Please review and don't forget to include what rating you want for this story. Thanks for reading!