I own nothing but the plot. Characters belong to JK Rowling. Song in this chapter is Buy the Stars by Marina and the Diamonds. Seriously, go check it out. I am in love with it and how well it fits this fic.


Chapter Thirty-One: Lie To Me


"You bought a star in the sky tonight

Because your life is dark and it needs some light

You named it after me, but I'm not yours to keep

Because you'll never see, that the stars are free

Oh we don't own our heavens now

We only own our hell

And if you don't know that by now

Then you don't know me that well

-o-o-o-o-

Still, you'd like to think you own me

You keep buyin' stars

And you could buy up all the stars

But it wouldn't change who you are

You're still livin' life in the dark

It's just who you are

It's just who you are."


A few nights later, she laughed for the first time.

The radio had been set out and tuned to his favorite station where they sat in the library. Hermione was somewhere near the fire, pretending not to be anxiously listening for the news broadcast. Draco lay sprawled lazily on the divan, listening to the announcer chatter on in between songs. It made for a comforting hum in the background as he focused on darker thoughts. Time droned on and he found himself slipping into slumber. All coherent thoughts slipped from his mind, and he was in a state of content drowsiness, allowing those taxing thoughts to fade away for him to ponder over another time. Just as he felt himself drop into that void of unthinking bliss, he was jolted awake by Hermione's laugh.

It was quick and loud; the kind of laugh that bursts unexpectedly from one's mouth. The announcer must have said something amusing; he strained his ears but it had passed, and another song had begun to play. Wide awake now, he whipped round to face her where she sat on the floor in front of the fireplace. She made for a lovely picture; sitting on her knees with the fabric of her gown pooled around her. She'd surprised herself too, apparently-as he watched she pressed her fingertips to her lips as if she could not believe what she had just done.

Feeling elevated, he made his way over and sat down beside her. She did nothing; simply continued staring into the dancing flames with her hand covering her mouth.

It had been so very long since he had last heard her laugh. Draco could readily admit it was one of his favorite sounds, that laugh. Many a time back in school he would find himself yearning to hear it-even if he was in the Great Hall surrounded by talkative students, he would tune them out and wait for it. In class, that laugh would distract him from his note taking, from adding the right ingredients to a potion, but he never cared as long as he could hear it. And then everything had happened and she had not laughed since.

Until now.

"It's normal to laugh, you know," he said carefully. "It's actually quite healthy for you."

Her eyes glowed with the light of the fire before them. Slowly, her hand was removed from her mouth and she swallowed before speaking.

"It feels wrong. I shouldn't be feeling happy."

Yes, you should. "Why not?"

"Why do you think?" her voice was bitter.

"Because you can't stop thinking about all your friends and family still out there, possibly suffering. We're in the midst of a war and you hate yourself (as well as me) for being here surrounded by luxury, even if it wasn't by choice. You want to hate it, want to hate me, but you're getting tired of trying to fight it."

She clasped her hands tightly in her lap. He could see her lips tremble.

"I'm so glad you understand." Her voice was stiff, mocking. Draco cupped her cheek in his hand.

"You can't stay angry forever, Hermione. Nor can you be sad all the time. It's tearing at you, I can tell. It's a natural thing to want to be happy. So go ahead-laugh and give us a smile, and no one will judge you for it."

She shook her head adamantly, frowning. "No. That will only make it all seem like it's okay, and it's not. I refuse to pretend. Leave me alone."

Before she could react he had pushed her onto her back and settled himself over her, knees on either side of her body. She protested, but he merely batted her hands away as his hands slid down to her sides and began to explore.

Her first thought was that he wanted sex, but as his fingers wriggled along her abdomen she was struck with his intention, and for a second she thought she would have preferred the sex to this. She squirmed under his touch and he smiled wide, lightly pressing his fingers into her side and then added a bit more pressure when she sucked in a breath.

Gotcha.

Picking up speed, his hands flew from her stomach to her armpits to where her neck connected with her shoulder (where he knew she was highly sensitive), flicking and wriggling his fingers against her skin. Harsh pants and broken fragments of laughter expelled from her lips, which she was trying so hard to keep shut as she repeatedly tried pushing his hands away, biting her lips to keep the sounds at bay. Draco felt her body convulse under his, knew that she needed to laugh, and craved it. She had denied this to herself (and to me, he thought wryly), so he would bring it to her. Her resolve was crumbling, he could sense it. That beautiful mouth was open now, lips curling into a smile, but no laughter came forth.

"Stop this," she panted, even though she wasn't actively fighting him anymore. "Please."

"Oh no, love," he growled playfully. "You know you need this. Stop fighting it."

And with a quick maneuver to bunch the skirt of her gown up to her waist he bent low, brought his lips to her bare tummy and blew a loud raspberry, turning his head rapidly from side to side.

That was all it took for her to let go.

It was possibly the richest laughter he had ever heard come from her, he concluded, continuing the raspberry as she twisted and shouted and clutched at his arms. Her belly heaved with it, and he smiled triumphantly into her flesh, his fingers dancing on her skin. Tickling behind her knees left her breathless and he kissed her as she laughed, swallowing her joy. He could almost feel it bloom inside of him, warming him down to his toes.

He broke the kiss and rolled off of the girl to her side on the plush carpet, panting. The laughter had ceased the moment he had taken his hands from her and their heavy breaths filled the air around them. Her eyes had closed and as he watched, tears rolled down from behind her lids and down the sides of her face.

"Oh, love," he murmured, and went back to her, scooping her up into his arms.

"Let yourself be happy, Hermione," he pleaded, his lips rubbing against her temple. He pressed soft kisses into her cheek, wiping at her tears with his thumbs. She turned away from him, curling into herself.

"I could never be happy with you."

Her voice and her words, though quiet and weak, held enough power to stab into his heart.

She had curled into the fetal position, shaking weakly in the flickering light of the fire. At once he was both furious and yet incredibly sad; he wanted to strike her or kiss her until her tears went away. He wanted to kiss the sadness and despair out of her, to suck at her until all that shined in her eyes were not her crystal tears but love and happiness.

In the end he did nothing. The satisfaction of his earlier victory had died out as quickly as her laughter had once he had left her. The longer he watched her the more upset he became; the anger that had festered inside him for so long began to bubble over the surface.

It happened so quickly, it took him a second or two to realize what he had done. A glass tumbler that had been on the nightstand now lay in thick shards scattered around the floor, the wall had a dark spot where the glass had met it and a small splatter of water adorned the floor. He hadn't even heard it shatter.

She had uncoiled herself from her little ball and looked at him, eyes wide in fear.

It wasn't enough. Panting, he lunged at the nightstand and snatched the heavy lamp. With a forceful flex of his arm the object sailed across the room and greeted the wall with a loud crash, shattering upon impact. Hermione shrieked and covered her head with her arms as the shards rained down on her. Then his glass paperweight met the wall. Object after object was introduced to the wall, and when there was nothing left to throw he drove his fists into the wall, into the armoire, into the wide full-length mirror. His knuckles bled profusely and his hands ached something terrible, there was a shard or two embedded in his fist and he pulled them out without blinking. It still wasn't enough. His anger demanded to be assuaged.

Through his haze of fury he dimly registered her shouting for him to stop but he was past listening. The lushly carpeted floor was a minefield of glass and mirror shards. Sometime in his outburst he had ripped the sheets of the bed and had tipped over the chaise. The room was in utter destruction. In the center of the mess was the Hermione, thoroughly shocked and completely still and unharmed.

"After all I've done…" he began, breathing heavily. "Everything I've done for you, for us, and it's not enough?"

Her mouth opened into an angry 'o'.

"I never said it wasn't enough!" The colour rose into her cheeks. "I never wanted any of this! You forced all of this on me!" Tiny cuts lay scattered across her arms; one above her eyebrow had begun to bleed. "What's more, what exactly have you done for me?"

"Everything! I did it all for you!" he shouted. "Every last thing! I killed that McLaggen idiot because he dared touch you; I killed Dumbledore because it would give me the freedom to take you; I gave you that ring because I'd rather spend my life with you than anyone else. Every. Last. Thing."

"The common denominator in every example you've given me is yourself," she snarled. "You don't do anything unless it benefits you so don't you dare try to manipulate me into feeling ungrateful. You put this ring on me while I was unconscious so you could have a claim on me. You put spells on it so no one could mess with what is yours. You restrict my every move, lock every door so you won't lose me. You dress me to your tastes, you fuck me whenever you want to, however you want to." Her fierce expression wavered. "No matter how many times I say no."

"And," she continued, her voice growing stronger, "I never wanted you to do any of those things. Cormac was an idiot, but I never would have wanted him dead. You killed Dumbledore for the power it would give you. If you had acted like any normal person would when they like someone then you might not have had to go to such lengths. Relationships are built on trust and mutual respect between two consenting partners. I never gave you any consent. When I did, it was because you forced me to. You treat me more like an object than an actual person, and I wouldn't trust you for a kingdom. And what about your precious Dark Lord?" she added shrilly, eyes growing fevered. "You didn't hesitate in killing the others, why didn't you kill him too? He touched me, you know he did." Her voice was ragged and high, her eyes shined in the low light with desperation and hatred that made him ache in anger. "You let him, that's why!"

"Hermione, you don't under-"

"I understand that you're too big a coward to stand up to him!" she hissed. "You say that I belong to you and you'd never share me with anyone else. Well how does it feel to have shared me with your Master?"

Finished at last with what she had to say she looked up to see his head hung low and his shoulders had dropped. Guilt showed in the lines on his face, but there was anger in the way his fists were clenched at his sides.

"I couldn't stop him," he began.

"You mean you wouldn't," Hermione corrected angrily.

"I couldn't because I was the one who suggested the idea of interrogating you in the first place," he said, and she froze. "I would be branded as a traitor if I didn't allow for you to be questioned. They'd think I'd turned sides. He would have been furious if I had refused for you to see him."

"Oh, I'm so very sorry your questionable reputation could have been tarnished further!"

"He would have killed my parents. He would have killed you. I couldn't let that happen, Hermione, I couldn't."

You should have, she wanted to say.

"I didn't know-" his lie was interrupted by her ferocious glare, "I didn't think he would touch you. I know he's done it before with other prisoners but never with someone like…"

"Me. A Mudlbood like me."

He hurried to her and grasped her hands in his, bringing them to rest against his chest.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I put you in danger like that and I promise it won't happen again. I won't let him touch you again, I swear it."

Hermione looked at their joined hands on his chest and then looked at him coolly.

"You don't think I'm in any danger here with you?"

"Of course not," he said almost arrogantly, scoffing. "I will always take care of you."


A shudder ran through her and she longed to pull her hands away from his body but he held her too tightly. More questions popped up in her head that she desperately wanted to ask but doing so would only raise his suspicion.

And…

An idea was beginning to form in her mind; one that was so terrible and yet so sweet, but it frightened her so much she shut her eyes and willed it away quickly, irrationally fearing that he would somehow know what just occurred to her.

He shifted and his cold lips pressed sweetly against her forehead.

"I love you," he breathed. He said it so quietly that she had almost imagined she had heard it, but seconds later it replayed in her head and she realized it unfortunately was not a trick of her mind. Horror flooded through her and she pulled away instantly, stumbling over herself in her haste to get as far away from him as possible.

"No," she whispered. "No, you don't."

"Oh, yes I do," he said calmly. "I love you, Hermione."

The tears had begun to spill again, her mouth gaped and her lips moved like she wanted to speak but no sound came forth. Draco wanted to shake her.

He strode to where she stood, not caring that he was stepping on shards of glass that were now cutting and digging into his flesh, sending little bolts of pain up his legs but he didn't care. She backed away quickly but only succeeded in pressing herself against the wall. He cornered her and gripped her arms tightly so that she gasped and struggled to break free.

"I know my actions have been inexcusable. I know I have hurt you. This is not an apology because know I will continue to hurt you." He leaned in close, brushed his lips against her cheek. "I can't help myself. I had to have you and I have to keep you. Perhaps in time, you could learn to love me too."

"Never," she whispered, turning her head away.

His eyes bored into her like he was trying to strip her soul. She could feel his breath against her cheek. There was ice running through her veins, raising every hair on her body, tensing every nerve. More than anything she wanted to look away, to flee, but his shocking wintry gaze held her in place like a permanent sticking charm.

Don't let him get any closer!

Hermione pushed out her palms, holding him back as effectively as she could but he was strong, and her weak little wings bent easily under his force.

"Whatever you feel for me, it isn't love," she whispered, bracing herself as his jaw clenched. "You don't even know what love is. You think owning someone is equivalent to love, that keeping me here will magically make me fall in love with you. I have news for you, Malfoy: You could bring me the moon or the sun or all the stars in the universe and I would feel the same. You could gift me all the books in the world or even set me free, you could rewind time so that none of this had ever happened and yet I still would never love you."

Malfoy looked at her with curiously shiny eyes. He was angry again-Hermione felt her stomach drop. She'd gone too far.

"I haven't need of your love as long as you're mine," he said. "There are ways for making you love me, remember?" Pale eyes glinted with malicious intent and she swallowed hard. Of course she remembered. His hand traveled up to cup her chin, the tips of his thumb grazed against her trembling mouth.

"Kill me," she whispered. "Kill me, and be done with it."

"Oh, little bird," he chuckled and the sound resonated low in his throat as he leant forward to kiss her clavicle, dragging his lips over her skin. "Why would you wish that?" He forcefully pushed her to the ground, she landed on her back with an 'oof' and he was on top of her within seconds, feverishly removing his clothes. Her pupils shrank, she tried pushing him off.

"It would make me happy," she whispered as he began to remove her gown. Hermione tried keeping it on but he pulled it off her roughly and she was left naked and cold with fear.

"Don't be silly," he growled, forcing her legs apart and pushing his fingers inside of her, beginning to pump quite roughly. The intrusion was unpleasant; she already felt sore and uncomfortable, trying to kick him away with her legs, but when he began to circle and pinch her clit she felt herself becoming aroused despite her best efforts to displace herself from the situation at hand.

It isn't fair, it isn't fair…

"Don't," she pleaded, trying to push him away. "Please!"

It's tearing me apart...

"Surrender to me," he hissed, curling his fingers inside of her. Her walls clamped down on him and when he felt her pleasure slick around his fingers he grinned malevolently and pumped faster. She was twisting underneath him, beads of sweat adorned her body and he licked off the ones he could reach, savoring her taste.

She was becoming unresponsive, to his frustration. There was a vacant, glassy look in her eyes, but though she had stopped resisting he found her willing enough where he wanted her to be. He bent forward and caught her nipple in his mouth, flicking at it with his tongue before sucking roughly, and the pleasure it gave her was so intense that without realizing it she threw back her head, giving him better access to her neck which he gladly began to ravish. Her face was flushed, eyes closed, brows arched in pleasure but her lips trembled with the effort she exerted to keep them shut. Draco continued the assault, knowing she was having trouble isolating herself from what was happening. Occasionally her mouth opened and a fragment of a moan would fly out to kiss his ears but just as quickly as it had happened, she would bite at them to keep the sounds locked inside. Brown eyes flew open and met shining silver and she turned her head away in shame, blushing fiercely.

"You can turn that pretty head away all you want, you can hate me for as long as you like, but never forget that I am your husband, and you belong to me."

"This," he said, running his hands over her body, "is mine." The force and speed in which he thrust his fingers inside her increased and she let out a long, shaky breath as stars began to gather behind the backs of her eyes. Her entire body was lit in flames that coursed through her, curling her toes and fingers and making her hips push up into his hand. It was devastating; she was sure her body would never feel like it was her own anymore. Draco fisted a handful of her curls and pulled her in for a passionate kiss she did not reciprocate.

By now the squelching sound of his fingers in her moist sex was quite audible, making her clench her teeth in shame and rough pad of his thumb rubbed and flicked at her clit relentlessly, making her whole body tense tightly before she broke apart with a choked cry. She fought the intense waves of pleasure that consumed her but in the end she was drowned in their power. It took her several seconds to come back together but when she did she found him with his mouth attached to her breast, doing horrible, wonderful things that made her whole body tense. His fingers had not stopped their violation of her sex, still pushing in and out and touching that spot that repeatedly made her lose all the breath she had left. Before she knew it she fell apart again, her body convulsing while she clung to the carpet beneath her because she would not, would not, hold him and she felt like her soul was being ripped out of her own body. He pulled his fingers out of her with a rather wet sounding smack and licked her juices off his fingers, moaning hoarsely. She panted heavily as her world came to rights, refusing to open her eyes and look into those smug demon eyes, felt herself come back to rights as her thoughts returned to her. The complete and utter disgust she felt almost made her gag.

isn't fair…

"I hate you."

He laughed, his hands travelling up to cup her breasts gently. "Your body says otherwise, sweetling." As if to emphasize his point, he pressed a kiss to one breast while he squeezed the other. His lips parted and took her already hardened nipple into his mouth, flicking at it with his tongue. Hermione pushed him away angrily.

"Regardless of what my body says, I said no," she said. "You cannot pretend that means nothing."

Just as she tried to haul herself away from underneath him he caught her and flipped her over onto her stomach quite easily. Her hair draped over her face with the movement, many strands catching in her open mouth. Spluttering, she began to spit them out. Instead, his grip on her hips tightened as he raised them in the air, forcing her onto her hands and knees, muttered a charm to keep her in place. Hermione fought to stand back up, to move away, and couldn't. She let her head drop, suddenly drained. Malfoy did not release her.

"Stop," she pleaded.

"Your words mean everything to me," Draco said quietly, placing his palm onto her lower back. "They always have. But I've told you before and I'll remind you now that I will not be denied."

"What are you-" her query was interrupted and followed by a loud shriek as he rammed himself into her from behind. A long, pleasured hiss escaped him, and fisting a few thick strands of her curls in his hand, he began to pound. He was using quite a bit of force; her body involuntarily bounced back against his with the force of his movements, with each hard stroke he tugged her head back a little and she would release a series of little pants and yelps that sent little sparks running through his body. Her breasts swung forward and backward with the force of his thrusts and he groaned as her walls tightened around his cock, greedily drawing him in further and further. With a hiss he came, his seed coming out in large spurts as she collapsed underneath him, breathing heavily.

Before he could do anything else, Hermione pulled herself out of his grip and stood. She hugged herself, trying to suppress her shaking. Draco, still flushed from his orgasm, watched as she picked up her gown and pulled it on, but just as she began to exit the room he stopped her, angry again.

"Where are you going?" he asked, fuming.

"You've made your ineffectual point," she said. "I want to be alone now."

He pulled her back to him. "We're not done until I say so. I meant what I said."

Hermione scoffed. "I'm sure you did, Draco, but we each have a different understanding of what love is. That being said, I don't particularly care for yours."

Draco struck her, hard enough that she lost balance and fell to the floor with a cry of pain.

"Watch your words, Hermione. I've given you all and I could take it all away just as easily."

"So why don't you?" she challenged him. "I'll never give you what you want. You might as well kill me, you've damaged me enough."

"No," he said. "I want you alive. You're no good to anyone dead." The second the words left his mouth he realized he'd said too much.

Hermione considered him for a moment. Her face was beginning to bruise.

"What are you using me for, Draco?"

He said nothing, and after a heavy silence she left the room.


Hermione wanted to scream in frustration when she saw Blaise coming towards her in the hallway. After the nightmarish events of mere moments ago all she wanted was to be left alone! What could he possibly want?

" 'Lo, Granger," he said upon reaching her at last.

"If you're looking for Draco he's in the library," she said, and made to keep walking until he stepped in front of her path. Tired, emotionally wrecked and angry, Hermione scowled at him.

"What do you want?" she asked. He was staring at her cheek, and she touched it gingerly, having forgotten that Draco had hit her there.

"He's done this before, hasn't he?" Blaise's voice was quiet.

"-yes."

"Are you well? Do you need anything?"

She scoffed at his question.

"I've known Draco all my life. Short-tempered sod, he is, but I never knew him to hit a girl; his mother taught him better than that. Usually, if he was angry he'd take it out on the Quidditch field, or hell, a wall. But never this."

"Don't try to convince me he's really insecure and soft-hearted deep down," Hermione snapped. "Every day that passes he proves to me otherwise."

Blaise shook his head. "That's not what I'm trying to say. Draco was never a nice person, not truly. But since you came along he's turned worse." He trailed off for a moment his eyes fixed on the patch of blue and purple. "It's like I barely know him anymore."

"I'm sorry to have come between your friendship," she said sarcastically. "Believe me, that was the last of my intentions."

"That isn't what I meant," he said. "It's just-when I brought up the idea of him asking for you it was just a joke. It was an off comment. I swear I didn't-... Then he turned out to be dead serious about you and he made me swear to help-I had no other choice-I knew too much and not supporting him would have brought hell's flames over me. I thought it was just a mad fancy on his part, just a fantasy, that it would end quickly. Then he started taking it farther and farther and I don't know how much remains of the Draco I was friends with."

Hermione watched him suspiciously. "Why are you telling me this?"

"I didn't think it would all come to this," he said, his voice full of regret. "I feel I'm the reason you're here. He keeps me from seeing and talking to you too often, or I'd have told you sooner."

Hermione shook her head, feeling disoriented.

"You blame yourself for what he's done to me?"

"This all happened because of one stupid comment I made, Granger. I gave him the idea. You should hate me as much as you hate him."

Without warning her fist planted itself in his stomach. Blaise grunted and staggered backward, gasping for breath against the wall.

"Yes, like that," he said, wincing.

She hit him again, in the chest. One fist and then the other, again and again. Blaise limited his defense and took it, groaning when she reached too high and caught him in the cheek-his jaw caught and he bit his tongue. He gasped, spat quite a bit blood onto the floor, his body throbbing with pain. His lungs felt oddly weak.

The sight of the blood had frozen her. During the assault she had looked as wild as an untamed creature but now looked absolutely stricken.

"Oh, Gods," she whispered, her hands over her mouth. Her face was a mess of tears. She knelt beside him.

"I imagine he doesn't let you do that often," Blaise said hoarsely.

"No."

"I can see why."

A hysteric giggle escaped past her hands.

"I'm so sorry," she said, "I was so angry-I don't know why-"

"Considering the stress you've undoubtedly been under, you probably needed to let it out," he said, touching his lip tenderly, blood dribbling down his chin.

Without thinking Hermione placed her hand on his to move it aside and see what damage she had caused.

A bolt of pain ran down her arm, so quick and fierce she gasped and jerked away.

"What the fuck was that?" Blaise asked, frowning.

The ring flashed brightly on her finger. Hermione wrapped her arms around herself. She had forgotten. Did Draco know what had happened?

"He keeps me from touching others," she said softly. "Specifically other men."

Tears slid down her face. She wiped at them silently.

Blaise stared at her, aghast.

"I can't heal you, either," she said, her voice so dull it made Blaise shiver. "I wish I could. But he won't even let me use magic." At the end her voice broke but she acted like it had not happened.

"I don't blame you at all for any of this," she said. "He likely would have done it anyways without your suggestion, and I believe that you didn't truly intend for this to happen. I shouldn't have hit you either I was just so, so tired of not being able to fight back."

"You know he named me as your protector?" Blaise said suddenly. His eyes were fixed on the bruise, traveled down to the scars on her shoulder in the shape of Draco's bite. "That if you're ever in danger I should take care of you."

Hermione caught the meaningful look he sent her, and was suddenly dizzy with the rush of both absurd hope and suspicion that slammed into her.

He wants to help? He wants to help!

But as suddenly as it came it was gone. Paranoia won out and she narrowed her eyes at him. What a fool she was, falling for all this. She had remembered what happened the first time she encountered Blaise after her capture. She looked closer at his face to determine whether he was under an Imperius again, but he appeared as lucid as she felt.

Draco must have taught him a script then. Hermione stood and looked at him coldly.

"No. You can go and tell him I said no when he asks you later about what happened, just like last time."

She pushed past him and kept walking down the hall, fuming.

How dare he mock me like that? Does he think I'm so stupid as to fall for that again?

It stung to realize she already had.

There came the sound of rushed footsteps, then a hand caught her arm and she whirled around, trying not to shout from the pain emanating from the ring, expecting to see a furious Draco, but it was Blaise again.

"He doesn't know," he whispered anxiously. "I promise you, Granger. He doesn't know. Your friends are looking for you everywhere and I want to help."

He's telling the truth. The realization sent a flood of goosebumps down her arms.

"But…why?" she asked. "Why would you go behind his back to help me?"

"You deserve better than this, Granger. No one should have to live this way." He couldn't meet her eye.

"But...you're putting yourself in danger by helping me," she said, suddenly full of worry. "He would kill you. He told me, he'll kill anyone that tries to take me away."

"Bet he never thought it would be me," Blaise said. "But then I wouldn't doubt he would try to kill me anyway. The thing is, Granger, he doesn't know, and we have the advantage."

"But you can't ever return if you do this," Hermione said. "You must be aware of that. You would give it up to help me?"

"Didn't have much to begin with," he said, shrugging. "Don't look so worried, Granger. I am fully aware of what I'm doing, and I know the consequences that come with my choice." He paused, and a shameful look crossed his face. "I wish I had acted sooner."

"Thinking that will only depress you, believe me."

"Draco keeps us under a very close eye, Granger. Always keep that in mind. He trusts me well enough, but still not enough to let us alone in the same company for too long. I thought killing Dumbledore would have been the last of it, that Draco would have cooled off and calmed down but he's working himself into a frenzy now over you and Merlin knows what else. There's a lot he won't tell me, but I know he and the Dark Lord are working towards something, and whatever that is can't be any good for anyone, you especially."

"They're going after Harry," she said, turning pale. What else could it be?

"I'll track down Longbottom," he said. "He might be of help. I know you trust him."

Hermione didn't know what to say, so she nodded. Her throat seemed to not be working, so she mouthed a 'thank you', and he understood.

"We'll talk about this some other time. I'll be back sometime soon." He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and left before she could squeeze back, but it didnt matter because the small touch had turned her hand numb for the brief second it lasted.

He was only a few paces away when he turned around and said, "Oh, and I forgot. Don't do anything stupid until then."

Hermione didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

She did both.