Familiar blinding white hot pain twisted through her. There was no cry of pain or any tears shed. The only sign of her torture was the writhing of her body as she struggled to find gasps of breath. While to her it felt like forever, she knew it had only been a few seconds. Amycus ended his curse after finding no joy in her silence. He undid the curse that bound his legs together and stood, walking over to her prone figure.

The students had stopped their duels, all staring at the scene before them. It was sickening to watch as their Head Girl laid on the floor, twitching. Her hair was wild and sprawled around her, covering part of her face like a curtain, and stuck to her forehead from perspiration.

"If any of you feel the need to follow is Miss. Granger's footsteps, take note of her current state," Amycus announced. He kicked her back with the point of his shoe, hoping to elicit some kind of sound, but she bit down on the inside of her cheek to refrain from doing so. The pain traveled up her spine and through her body. "The Dark Lord has no place for those that do not listen," he said.

Slowly, Hermione propped herself up with her arms, despite how much they shook. Her eyes landed on the horrified Gryffindors, and saw the way they gripped their wands, as if ready to attack once more. Subtly, she shook her head, warning them not to repeat her actions.

"Foolish girl," Amycus spat.

She stood, using all of her strength to do so. Nausea washed over her, and threatened to spill the contents of her breakfast over the Carrow's shoes. It wouldn't haven been such a bad thing to do, but Hermione knew she had reached her maximum capacity of humiliation for the day.

Draco ripped his wand from her hand and held it at her throat, grey eyes smoldering. "Mudblood. Outside. Now." He nodded towards the door, not waiting for their professor's approval. Digging his wand into her flesh, he led her out of the classroom.

Her legs moved out of their own accord, unable to shake the feeling in her chest that objecting would only cause more harm than good. Quietly she walked out of the room. Her mind raced with scenarios and ways for her escape. Perhaps disarming Malfoy...

"I knew you were an idiot but that was too far," Draco snarled into her ear. He grabbed her arm and dragged her across the corridor to an empty classroom. Kicking the door open, he shoved her in, and watched as she fell to the ground in a weak thud.

Despite the pain washing over her and clouding her mind, Hermione didn't miss the fact that he closed and locked the door before mumbling a spell under his breath. Draco stood above her, glowering. He was livid, and quite frankly she was too. The only reason she was in this mess was because of him. He let those monsters into Hogwarts. He let them kill Dumbledore.

He let them kill Dumbledore.

"Do you want to die, Granger?"

It was a serious question.

Her lips parted, but she hesitated. "What?" she asked dumbly.

Draco rolled his eyes and loosened his tie. "You're a bloody piece of work," he spat. "You'll get us both killed by the end of the month if you keep this up. And I will be damned before I let that happen." He crouched down so he was at eye level with her. His fingers reached out to grab ahold of her chin. Digging into her flesh, he held her in a vice grip, forcing her to look at him. "Since your insipid mudblood brain is inept in processing your lack of worth, I'll spell things out for you." His fingers left her chin, and trailed down to her throat, causing her to shiver. Wrapping his hand around her slim neck, he squeezed gently, hinting at how easily it would have been for him to simply hurt her. "All we need is for Potter to come back, and he will eventually, whether or not your presence is here to motivate him. There's plenty of others here that he cares about. The She-Weasel, Longbottom,- Hell, even Loony Lovegood. All you are, is insurance; Not quite necessary but useful to have." Draco stared at her for a moment, taking in the hollowness of her cheeks, the darkened circles under her eyes, and the now dullness of an extinguished fire in her eyes. This was not Hermione Granger, he realized. This was someone else. Someone illogical, irrational, and nothing like the brave Gryffindor he bullied the past seven years. This person was going to be killed for being so weak, he realized. "You behave and be a good little bait till St. Potty decides to show up. Stay out of trouble. Stay away from the Carrows. Use that thing in your skull called a brain, for once, or I will chain you up and keep you from getting in the way."

Hermione studied him. Her eyes raked over his body, trying to make sense of everything around her, and trying to comprehend why he was so close to her. The hand around her throat rested there, no pressure applied. Her mind was racing and running and so many thoughts were being jumbled. Thoughts of Harry and Ron seemed to be running a marathon in her mind, clouding her with worry and pain at the prospect of them being hurt. But then there was this side of her that told her to protect the others at Hogwarts, and told her to take the wrath of the Death Eaters to spare them some heartache. And of course there were random thoughts that seemed to pop up in her mind that reminded her of how she used to be. How she was before her month in captivity. How was she to make sense of a world where logic no longer existed?

"What happened to you?" she suddenly found herself asking. Hermione looked at the Slytherin before her, eyes now curious. "What happened to the whiny Slytherin Prince? What happened to the Malfoy that would've jumped at the opportunity to kill me?"

They stared at each other, and for a moment, all they saw were their similarities. The hidden pain and exhaustion in their eyes were now shining through. They were both changed beings that no longer had a definite place in the world. And for moment, just a moment, Hermione pitied Draco for being raised in such a corrupt family. But their peace ended quickly, and reality came rushing through them.

"Stop that," Draco snapped. His hand tightened around her throat slightly.

"Stop what?" she asked.

"Stop looking at me like I'm some pathetic creature in need of help," he bit out. "By the end of this war, I'll be the one to live and you'll just be another dead mudblood." He stood, releasing her. Nothing else was said as he walked away, leaving her alone in the classroom, laying on the ground.

Hermione was not allowed to spend time in the library, nor in the Gryffindor Tower, or any other place that would have made it difficult to track her whereabouts. After what happened in Dark Arts, Draco kept her close, refusing to allow her out of his sight. Any poor behavior from her was only a reflection of his lack of authority, and Draco Malfoy was not prepared to have another demonstration on How to Train a Mudblood by his Aunt Bellatrix. So he kept the Gryffindor Princess in line by threatening to harm her friends, effectively keeping her from sneaking off to meet with them. In fact, the only 'alone' time she had, was during meals when she was with the other Gryffindors, and when she was asleep.

Days began to fade quickly as Hermione found herself falling into a daily routine. Wake up, shower, clean her clothes, eat, go to classes, eat, sleep. It wasn't until a week or two later did things start to change.

Hermione was sitting on the couch in their common room, reading a book with great interest, despite it being the fifth time she had read it. Her hair was a wild mess as always, and even though it was pulled up into a bun, curled tendrils fell into her eyes and blocked her vision.

And in the arm chair beside her was Draco, who was working diligently on an essay. Several times he had to push his hair back to keep it from falling into his eyes. His smooth penmanship ran across the parchment in fine cursive.

It was late and past dinner. The prefects were supposed to be patrolling, leaving the Head Boy and Girl with time to spare before sleep took them away. Nights like these, Hermione had grown accustomed to being in Draco's presence, and he hers. They remained in a state of peace so long as they avoided any direct communication and contact. Of course some nights, one of them would snap at the other and vise versa, and their cycle of hate repeated.

"Fuck!"

A jagged line ran across the parchment, and the quill fell from Draco's hand. He cradled his left forearm with his right hand as a blistering pain began to burn at it.

"Malfoy?" Hermione stood up, walking over to him with pinched eyebrows and an a look of concern. "What's wrong?" She reached out to touch his arm softly.

Draco looked at her in disbelief, at a loss as to why she was worrying over him. But he soon realized that she wasn't worried about him in particular. She was a Gryffindor; all good and mighty with too much compassion for others. She was undoubtedly a Head Girl by nature, and worried over anyone and anything.

Of course. She bloody thinks house elves should have rights, Draco reminded himself.

"Piss off, Granger," he snapped, brushing her hand off of him. "Don't touch me so casually. "

"Let me see your arm," she said slowly, as if talking to a petulant child. He yanked up his sleeve to reveal that dark mark, which was jet black and seemingly alive. "Shit," he hissed under his breath.

Hermione's eyes widened, realizing what was happening. "He's summoning you," she said in disbelief.

"What a useful observation!" Draco snapped. He grimaced and stood abruptly. "If you care for your own safety- or your friends' safety- Stay here, Granger."

He began to walk towards the door, and pointed his wand at it, muttering something that she could not hear. Though she was smart enough to know that whatever he casted most likely ensured that she would stay in the dorm and away from the other students. But even after he left, she went to the door and tried to open it. To her surprise, it gave way and opened to reveal the empty, dimly lit, corridor that led to the dorm. As she took a step forward, her foot seemed to hit a wall. Beyond the doorway, she was kept from leaving. Stretching her arm out, she felt the invisible barrier that stood between her and the rest of Hogwarts.

"Malfoy," she muttered in annoyance.

With a huff, she closed the door and went back to her book, which had fallen on the ground when she jumped to Draco's aid. Hermione scoffed at herself. Leave it to her to worry over him.

Prejudice prat. Hermione settled onto the couch and curled up into a ball with the book tucked close to her body. She hoped that reading would take her mind off of Draco, but more specifically, why he was summoned. However, her wild imagination kept her from doing so. As far as she knew, the Malfoys and Voldemort were not exactly on the best terms.

There was a knot in her stomach as she thought about what could have happened to demand his presence. Was it a Malfoy related problem? Or... Did it have to do with Harry and Ron? Were they okay?Hermione shuddered.

"Stop," she whispered to herself. "Stop thinking about them. They're okay. They're alive."

She closed her eyes and imaged them beside her, telling her their reassurances.

"'Mione, we're fine," Ron told her. "We haven't died before, remember?"

"Yeah. We've been through hard times. We can take care of ourselves," Harry murmured.

She nodded and wrapped her arms around herself. "But who's taking care of me?" she whispered.

Hermione was alone. The last time she felt so lost was back in the beginning of first year, when she knew no one at Hogwarts and had no friends. This time felt worse to her though. Because now, she was stuck in a foreign place she once called her home, with limited communication with her friends and family. She wondered if her mum and dad even knew that something was wrong, or if they simply thought their daughter was too busy to send them an owl. She hoped for the latter, unable to think of the worry they would have been going through.

Hope was something she relied on a lot lately. There was never much else since the Death Eaters stripped her of everything that made her...her. Was she really Hermione Granger anymore? Her magic was being tracked and up until now, every move she made was watched by Malfoy.

"Hermione," she heard Harry's voice in her head again. "You'll figure this out. You're okay."

"Am I?" she asked.

She no longer felt like she was okay. In fact most days, she felt nothing. The others always looked to her for guidance, and all she could ever say to them was, "We need to stick together", or "We need to be ready for when Harry and Ron come back." She needed a plan. A concrete plan.

"Think, Hermione," she told herself. "Think."

She thought about Neville, who had begun to show up less and less in classes along with some of the Gryffindors. They had started up a makeshift DA, with Neville and Ginny in charge. Ginny promised that they took precautions to ensure their safety. The Room of Requirement was their safe haven now, and it offered a place for them to train besides in Dark Arts, when Amycus had them attacking each other. Though she supposed that nowadays, with the Gryffindors and even some Hufflepuffs missing, duels in class were growing vapid. It always consisted of the Slytherins sending a student to the Hospital Wing. DA meetings were far more interesting. At least they seemed more interesting by what others have told her. Perhaps the DA was her place to start.

If she snuck off to one of the meetings, then surely she'd feel more like herself. All she had to do was get away from Malfoy.

Hermione yawned and placed the book in her hands down. Yes, that was what she would do. Again she yawned and stretched out on the couch. Too tired to move, she settled for sleeping on the couch. Slowly she slipped away from reality.

"Ron, Hermione, if I catch you two snogging-"

"Ginny!" they exclaimed in unison.

Hermione flushed and turned her back towards Ron, unable to look at him without the thought of combusting into flames in embarrassment. He seemed to have the same idea, and looked away from her, suddenly finding the ceiling interesting.

Ginny came walking up the stairs, grinning at the sight of the uncomfortable pair. "Oh unclench your arses it was just a joke," she laughed. "Dinner's ready. Come down when you feel like it, but Fred and George won't wait long before eating everything."

Hermione nodded. "We'll be right down."

Ginny wiggled her eyebrows at both of them, relishing in their discomfort.

"Piss off, Ginny," Ron huffed.

The youngest Weasley childishly stuck her tongue out before laughing. "Hermione, you're too good for my brother. He's too much of an idiot."

Quickly she ran down the stairs to avoid the nasty look Ron sent her way. Hermione giggled and tugged lightly on Ron's arm. She nodded for them to go downstairs, which he agreed to with a small smile.

"Mione," he said quietly.

"Yes?"

He paused. Ron rubbed his hands on his pants, wiping away the moisture and licked his lips nervously. "Um." He cleared his throat.

"Ron? Are you alright?"

His face turned red, much like how Hermione's was a minute ago. "Y-yeah. Um." Suddenly he leaned down, pressing his lips to her cheek. It was soft and warm in the millisecond that it lasted. Hermione was surprised at the sudden gesture.

"Hermione, I-"

"Granger!"

Hermione was ripped away from her pleasant dream by a desperate plea. Her mind was muddled with sleep, but still she registered the gravity in the voice. She staggered to the door, confused as to who was shouting her name.

"Granger open the hell up!"

"Fuck, he's bleeding everywhere!"

Hermione threw the door open, and nearly screamed at the sight.

Three battered figures stood in front of her. She recognized them all immediately. Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini, who have been missing long before the school year started, were supporting Draco's limp body. Theo, whose hair was usually blond, was now a brunette, and had dried blood around his arms and neck. Hermione wasn't sure if any of the blood was his, or where it was coming from, but the gashes on his face still fresh. His fair skin was now dark with dirt and blood, and bruises formed around his face and body. Blaise was no better. He looked more exhausted than Theo. Dark cuts ran over his arms but they seemed to be healing. However, he looked gaunt and starved, and a gash ran along the side of his face, running from his temple down to his jaw. His lip was split and his nose seemed to be broken. But the worse of the three seemed to be Draco. His head hung limp, though Hermione saw the blood that was dripping onto the floor from his face, and the deep red liquid soaked his shirt and robes. It looked as though he was dead.

"Finally," Blaise breathed.

They limped into the dorm, and Hermione shut the door quickly.

"What the bloody hell happened?"

"Set him down on the couch," Blaise said.

"Fuck, he's heavy. Granger, a little help here?" Theo huffed whilst trying to move the unconscious Malfoy onto the couch without hurting him further.

Hermione jumped into action, feeling her instincts take control. She moved in front of Draco and wrapped her arms gently around his waist to prop his torso up more. The three of them sat him on the couch before laying him down. Hermione winced at the sight of him. His platinum hair was now the color of rust, and stuck to his forehead. His face was unrecognizable due to the amount of blood smeared on it. She began to unbutton his shirt to access his wounds further. Her hand brushed against his wand, which was in the pocket of his cloak.

"Both of you sit down," Hermione snapped.

"Excuse me?" Theo scoffed.

She grabbed Draco's wand and pointed it to the two Slytherin. They both staggered back in alarm and held their hands up. "Sit down. You're both hurt."

They looked apprehensive, but did as told. Theo crossed his arms against his chest and leaned his head back. He looked content for a moment, as if sitting in a chair was one of the happiest things on Earth. Blaise was more uneased, and stared at Draco intently, as if he was afraid the blond would disappear before his eyes.

"We don't know what they exactly did to him," Blaise said.

Hermione paused. She inwardly gagged at how much blood there was in front of her, and turned towards Blaise for a brief break from seeing red. "Who?"

"Who do you think?" Theo asked. He groaned suddenly and held his side. He took slow deep breaths before saying, "We've been on the Death Eaters' hit-list." He groaned again.

"They did this to you guys?" Hermione was horrified. She looked back at Draco, and reached up to check his pulse unsure if he was truly alive after an attack from Voldemort's followers.

There were cuts all over his torso. They were all wounds from a knife, Hermione noticed. Using Draco's wand, she began to cast every healing spell she knew. There wasn't much she could do though, since she had no access to potions.

"Theo, are you okay?" Blaise asked.

Theo moaned and closed his eyes. He doubled over in pain, then before Hermione could register what was happening, he threw up on the floor. The sour smell reached her nose and caused her to shudder. Quickly she cleaned it up, grateful to have a wand to do magic with.

"Sorry," Theo coughed out.

"Why were they after you guys?" Hermione asked. She began to clean Draco, scourgifying him in attempt to make him look less dead.

Blaise began to cough violently. Splatters of blood left his lips as he did so. He looked at Theo, who was shaking and coughing as well. There was a look of pain in his eyes as he saw his best friend throw up once more. This time, Blaise cleaned it up. He sighed and looked at Hermione, the girl he was raised to hate. She glanced at him in confusion and genuine concern. It didn't amaze him that she was goodnatured enough to help them. She was the symbol of all good and morals after all. But he was glad that she hadn't called for a professor yet, and instead she settled for the answers that he and Theo were providing her.

"Theo and I defected, Granger. We left two months ago."

"You-Know-Who didn't really like that. Nor did our parents," Theo added. He laughed, but it sounded hollow. "Talk about disciplining your children, eh?" He looked over himself and laughed again. "Dear Merlin, my beautiful face is ruined now, isn't it? Tell me the truth, Blaise- If these cuts scar, will I look more attractive or will I look like shit like Draco over here?"

"Theo, you look like shit either way," Blaise snapped.

Hermione sighed. "Stop it, both of you." She settled for how Draco looked, knowing she could do no better. She walked over to Theo next to help him. "You both...defected," she said, repeating what he had said before. "Why?"

Theo looked at her. His blue eyes shined so bright with an undecipherable emotion that it caused her breath to catch in her throat.

"They wanted us to kill you. You and your parents to be exact."