So chapter three... there were problems uploading so it's been sitting here for a week. now that it's up, I could really use the feedback.

The Book Called Revenge

Chapter Three

Draco sat on his couch, after his shower and listened to Hermione's tale.

Scratch that…

He read her lengthy, fifteen page essay, detailing her predicament in a very sterile tone. It was written as if she weren't living a nightmare and this was all just a very long, very trying, inconvenience.

As he wrapped up the concluding paragraph, he looked up to see her laying on the fur carpet in front of the fireplace. Or more like she was laying through the rug. Her eyes were fixed on the ceiling, and even when he closed the book and tossed it across the short distance to her, she didn't budge.

He leaned back into the cushions and sighed staring at nothing in the opposite direction, letting the silence drag itself out while he took in her predicament.

So she'd done him wrong and in a work of irony the likes he'd never seen, a book, her greatest treasure in life, was teaching her a lesson. Leaving her fate in his hands. He glanced over at her still unmoving and smiled. Though she sat there in a tranquil trance, he knew that she was probably raging with uncertainties underneath the façade.

He would love to hear what was really going on in her head and if she was anything like the girl he knew as kids, it wouldn't be too hard to find out.

The silence was comfortable and he almost didn't want to break it.

"So 'Revenge', he started as he faced her form on the ground, "is going to let me in on the secret now?" he asked and she faced him for the first time.

She nodded, then looked away.

"Before we get to that," he said and smiled at her flinch, "what do I get for saving your life?" he asked and she sat up abruptly, giving him a frown of disgust. She took a calming breath and picked up Revenge. The quill appeared in her hand and she began to scribble frantically. She paused and inspected her words as if she wasn't sure she wanted to let him read it. She looked up at him and then slid the book across the floor to him.

He picked it up and couldn't help but grin.

'I guess I'd be indebted and at this point beggars can't be choosers, so I suppose I'll give you anything that's within my power to give.'

He made a show of rubbing his chin in thought and he could see her anger boiling up.

"I don't know," he said with a shrug, "I don't think you have anything that I want." He tossed the book back at her and Hermione shot him an accusatory look before picking up Revenge and scribbling again.

'ARE YOU SERIOUS?' she wrote and picked it up, holding it so that he could read it from afar. Draco shrugged.

"Revenge called it not me," he said while stretching, "I really don't benefit from your existence and I'm kind of wondering if anyone else does either." Her expression was priceless. "Maybe I'm doing the world a favor."

She stood up, gripping Revenge in one hand with the other balled into a fist around her quill. She stood there like that for some time before she turned away and started scribbling again. She tossed the book over her shoulder when she was done and he dodged it.

He picked it up and turned to the right page. As he read the words, he immediately regretted pushing her like that.

'You're probably right, I was amazingly self concerned and I suppose I'm continuing the trend by asking you for help after what I did. I was wrong and I've known that for a long time, but I was unconcerned with voicing it because I was pretty sure that I'd never see you again. So I forgot about you… thinking that you'd forget about me, which was selfish I guess, to assume that what I did was of no consequence. I'll leave you alone now. But despite how much I hate you right now, I want you to know that I am sincerely sorry about how I acted after the war.'

Draco watched her shoulders tremble as she stood facing away from him, and even without her making a sound, he knew that she was crying. He felt like an ass. What she'd done was horrible, true, but she didn't deserve to be trapped like this, watching her friends prepare to bury a body they couldn't find.

Even knowing all of this, he couldn't help but feel like she hadn't suffered enough by his hand. He'd never felt this way before. He was, in most cases, a pretty nice guy. He schooled his feelings into rational thought. He was being unbecomingly vindictive.

He stood up and walked around her until he stood before her. Her face was tear streaked and he stomped the triumphant feeling that rose up in him. He'd always thought he was over what had happened, but now he was having visions of her stern insistence at his trial that he be thrown in Azkaban when he was only seventeen. He could remember her standing before his burning home, which was her doing. Before she had intervened, the council had ruled him heir and owner to his rightful fortune, and sent him on his way with a slap on the wrist.

He'd planned to rid his manor of all dark possessions, to take down every portrait of his ancestry. Release every house elf. He was going to take care of his mom and help her to cope with the years of brain washing his father had put them through.

But then she showed up that day…

Draco shook the thoughts away as he realized that she was staring at his cold expression.

He pulled back his rationality and tried to cling to it. An hour ago, he'd been considering that what she had done had bettered his life… and it really, truly had. Only now, he was finding it hard to think it was reason enough to help her so easily.

He pushed the book into her hands and she startled back for a moment.

"We'll forget what happened back then," he started, bringing his voice down a notch as he continued, "you don't have my forgiveness and I don't want your apologies," he watched as she looked down at her feet. "I'll help you out of this because it's the right thing to do, and I don't want anything from you in return," he said taking the book back from her hands.

She looked shocked as he turned to the first page. He watched the book and nothing happened. Hermione was looking worried so he confirmed her fears.

"Nothing," he said. Hermione looked crestfallen and he was about to hand the book back when the scrawl began to flow over the page. He paused reading it as it wrote.

Hermione, able to see that something was happening, looked down at the book, but saw nothing. He continued to run his eyes across the page as if he was reading, but there was nothing there.

Hermione waved her hands in front of his face when he finally stopped reading and stared out into space with a frown. He snapped his head in her direction.

She motioned at the book and then spun her hand in a circle as if to ask 'well what did it say?'

"You can't read this?" he asked and Hermione looked down at the page shaking her head in the negative. When he just stood there looking her up and down, as if he were seeing her for the first time, she snatched the book from his hand and wrote.

'Did it tell you how to free me?'

She held the page up to his face and he examined her face for a moment before shaking his head, no. Hermione frowned.

'What did it say?'

He read her words and took a step back from her.

"It," he paused shaking his head at her, "It said that you have to stay a while before it will tell me."

Hermione looked confused. Then skeptical.

'I need to stay? Here?'

He nodded, before walking around her and into the kitchen. Hermione followed.

"I have work in the morning, so I need to go to bed," he said as he drank a glass of water and headed for the stairs.

Hermione watched him in stunned silence, before following him up the stairs. She wrote something down as she went and tried to show it to him but he ignored her as he entered his room and shut the door.

Hermione stood in the hallway unable to figure out what had just happened. Revenge had written more than what Draco was letting on.

She put a hand to the door and it was solid beneath her touch. She knocked on it and when he didn't answer, she knocked harder.

Nothing.

She rapped on the door feeling a wonderful sensation as her fist made hard contact with the wood and her hands began to hurt. She kept it up until she fell through the door.

So her moment of being tangible was over…

She stumbled into the room as Draco was lifting his shirt over his head. He looked at her, threw the shirt to floor with the rest of the trash, and ignored her presence as he got into bed and turned out the light.

"You can't sleep in here, so don't bother asking," he mumbled and Hermione couldn't believe him. She wasn't going to ask him that at all. Besides, what was the point? The floor in this room felt the same as the one downstairs.

She couldn't even get him to read what she was writing with the lights out. The good news was that she was able to touch him.

She walked over to him and pushed his chest. He turned over and she pushed his back. He pulled the cover over his shoulders and she pulled them off.

Draco was beginning to get upset.

"Look if you don't-" he started to say, but Hermione cut him off by repeatedly slapping his shoulder. He sat up and turned on the light to find her clutching his blanket for dear life. She tapped his shoulder again and he realized it was one of those 'to get your attention slaps,' so he focused on her as she pointed to the blanket and smiled like a kid in a candy store.

"Oh right," he recalled, "You haven't been able to touch blankets in a while…" he sighed reaching out for his cover, "That's very nice and all, but I'm trying to-"

She jumped back to stop him from taking away the comfort. Obviously she wasn't giving it up without a fight. He pulled at the side nearest him and she pulled back.

There was a short tug of war, which Draco noted was ridiculous, that ended as she took another step back and her form gave way, slipping through the cloth and sending her to the floor. He didn't bother to hold back a laugh as she fumed.

Then as if a light bulb had gone off inside of her head she stood up and walk up to the wall. She put a hand against it and it went through. She pulled it back out, took a step toward him and touched the wall again. Her hand connected with wood.

She looked up at him in shock. She walked up as close as she could get to him.

"What are you doing now?" he asked feeling exasperated.

She put up a finger to tell him to hold on, then she slowly took steps away from him with her hand sliding across the wall, until she took one too many and her hand went missing again. She pulled her hand back through the wall shaking her head and mouthing the word 'no' over and over.

"What," he asked becoming impatient.

She picked up Revenge from the ground where she'd fallen and wrote quickly before handing the book over to him.

'I can touch things within a certain radius of you.'

"That's wonderful," he started with a sigh, "but like I was saying-" he was again cut short as Hermione ran past him and jumped right into his bed. Put her face in the pillows and hugged them close.

In a moment of shock and disgust he jumped up from the bed moving backward and with a thud, her body hit the floor below.

"Oh, sorry," he said in shock. He hadn't meant for that to happen, but whatever it took to keep her out of his bed. He moved forward without thinking and it wasn't until she was crawling from beneath the bed that he realized he'd only made things worse.

Stifling a laugh, he took a few steps back and she got up, her body half infused with his bed.

He made his face serious before she looked up.

"I feel for you," he said moving toward her when finally her body was no longer inside of his mattress, "I really do," he continued sincerely, "but under no circumstance are you allowed in my bed," he finalized, and although she was obviously put out, she seemed to understand the boundaries she'd crossed as she nodded.

"I have work in the morning," he repeated, "We can talk then," he said and it seemed to create a finality in the conversation. She picked up Revenge and exited the room.

When she was fully gone he got back into bed, turned out the light and spent the rest of the night unable to sleep while he contemplated Revenge's conditions for her release. She didn't need to stay here. The book hadn't requested it. That was him buying time so he could figure out if he could go through with what it would take to free Hermione.

He needed to figure out if he was even capable of what it was asking.

He'd have thought that Revenge would have asked for something fairy tale-ish, like getting a man who despised you, to break your spell with a kiss. Something innocent and pure. After her story he'd kind of pegged the book as a means of getting her to realize that she wasn't in control, but it was asking her to relinquish all sense of honor and pride.

It wanted her to literally sleep with her enemy.

Worse yet, was that it wasn't going to tell her and Draco was going to have to find some way to explain without sounding like he was the sick one trying to belittle her.

He'd just seen her today for the first time in ten years and under some pretty odd circumstances. Telling her that the book wanted him to sleep with her could easily be chucked up to him trying to humiliate her.

Draco closed his eyes and thought of what this book was trying to do. Give him a chance at getting his own revenge… or something akin to that notion.

It was probably the most disgusting thing to do to someone, trap them like this and then tell them that their release relied on his release.

That was vulgar and just about the only way he could describe it. Revenge had been pretty explicitly descriptive about how far the encounter had to go. Whoever made this book was a sick bastard. Hermione mentioned that she suspected the book only worked on females since she was seeing the writing of the girl before her, who also wrote of reading another woman's writing in the book.

He wondered how many people had been captured in it, and how many of them were freed.

It had to be a good number right, because if the girls hadn't been freed, then Revenge wouldn't have been found repeatedly right? Besides, what guy didn't want to get his revenge in the most mortifying way possible. They probably took advantage of them. Unless the girl refused to do it, grew old as an invisible woman, died and the book would reappear. He didn't want to get into the possibilities.

The point was that he wasn't a monster and he couldn't leave her stuck like this, but also couldn't do what needed to be done.

It was five hours later when he fell asleep and disturbingly enough, he dreamed of her excitedly jumping into his bed like she had a few hours ago, and of himself going through with Revenge's plan.

It wasn't a pleasant dream at all.

Hermione was down stairs tossing and turning on the hardwood floor of the living room. She had already gotten her allotted two hours of sleep. Her body wouldn't let her relax any longer than that. She knew that if she was on that very plush couch across from her, she'd have went out like a light. Too bad the only way, she'd get to nap on that couch was it Draco was willing to sit nearby and wait it out while she slumbered.

Slim chance.

He was a good guy, she knew, and she really couldn't ask for any more than he was already giving her. As much as she hated that she wasn't upstairs in bed with him right now, she understood his reasoning. This curse was making her do crazy things, like jumping into bed with him. She was surprised that he hadn't turned her away for that alone. He was doing more for her than she may have done for him in a role reversal.

After all of this was over, she was going to find a way to thank him.

For now though, she was more concerned with her exhaustion. With the way things were going, she wasn't even sure how she functioned through the day without collapsing. She closed her eyes and tried to dream.

It was no use. Which she guessed was okay, since the sun was already up and Draco was probably going to be getting up for work soon. She wondered what kind of work he did. From what she understood, he was never spotted in the wizarding world anymore, so she had to assume that he worked with muggles.

It seemed so improbable, but his house was obviously void of magic. He had no spells or safety wards up, and the overall design of the house gave it away. The kitchen alone was a testament to lofty muggle life styles, but the large T.V.'s she'd spotted in several rooms of the house were the icing on the cake.

Draco Malfoy was living like a muggle.

Hermione decided that she wanted to see what he did for a living. Probably worked in an office. He was smart, so she could see him filing papers and taking important calls as phone went off around him and there was hustle and bustle everywhere. She smiled realizing that she was picturing the muggle version of the ministry.

She sat up and couldn't sit still any longer. She started for the stairs and headed for Draco's room. It was seven in the morning. It seemed like normal hours for someone to get up. She walked through the door and saw that he was still sound asleep. The blankets were tangled up around his body and he looked a bit worse for wear as he shifted back and forth.

She went over to him and called out his name, forgetting that she was mute. She stood over him for a second watching his frowning face. She wanted to shake him awake but didn't know if it was okay. He looked like he could use the wake up call, but she was trying not to do anything that would overstep those delicate boundaries he had put into place.

Touching him wasn't one of them, but she felt like she shouldn't. She suspected that that had more to do with her own feelings than what he may think of it. How excited she was about being able to touch someone. She'd been restraining herself from touching him since their first encounter. She was trying to keep a hold of her mental instability but it was hard.

So long without human contact was bound to have some repercussions. It didn't matter that the situation called for her to keep a distance, she was dealing with serious trauma, and stopping herself from feeling up someone she hardly knew, and who didn't like her, was trying to her restraint.

Just touching walls, doors and blankets were sending her over the deep end. Feeling her hand make contact with his skin was truly satisfying, no matter how short lived.

He mumbled and she remembered that she was supposed to be making a choice.

She put her hand on his shoulder and shook him lightly before taking her hand away quickly. When it didn't work she shook one more time. This attempt more aggressive than the last.

He came awake with a jolt and she jumped back from surprise.

He was breathing hard as he stared up at her. He looked a little frightened, then there was a tinge of pink that rose to his cheeks before he turned away.

Hermione watched him in confusion as he ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head, then seemed to forget that she was standing there as he stared at the wall ahead, in deep thought.

She opened Revenge and the quill appeared in her hand.

'What's wrong?'

She held the book up in front of his eyes and he frowned, reading the words.

"Nothing," he answered defensively, pulling the blankets from his legs, "What are you doing in here?" he asked and Hermione recoiled at the tone. He was pissed off.

She jotted in the book as he stood from the bed and headed to his closet.

'Checking if you were up. You said you had work and it's about the time of morning that working people are heading out of the door.'

She held it up to him and he spared a look over his shoulder then turned away pulling a shirt from a hanger.

"Well I'm up now. You can go," he said stiffly and Hermione stood there for a second before she scribbled in Revenge, feeling him getting to her. He didn't have to snap at her.

When she was done, she stormed over to him and tapped his shoulder. He turned around with a scowl.

"I told you-" he started and she cupped her hand over his moth in frustration. It was so hard to be heard when you didn't have a voice. With her hand still in place, she held up the book.

'Thank you for what you're doing for me, but I won't sit here and let you treat me like crap because you have leverage over me. I don't know what pissed you off, or if you're just not a morning person, but whatever happened, I had nothing to do with it! So as selfish as this may sound, please don't make my life any harder than it has been for these past few months. I know that you're a great person because you agreed to help even though I can't do anything more than apologize for what I've done in the past. So I understand if you want to hate me for something I did, or something I do. You have the right to, but no misdirected rage. You'll agree that things suck enough for me I'm sure.'

He read the lengthy paragraph and then looked into her eyes before sighing as he pulled her hand away gently.

"Sorry," he said and Hermione hid her glee. She'd written that out of anger and hadn't really expected him to agree. "I'll be down in a few," he said before turning back to his closet.

Hermione smiled and headed back to the living room.

Draco entered the kitchen a few minutes later and Hermione came in to join him. As he went through the fridge, she set Revenge on the table, open to a page with some numbered sentences.

She knocked on the counter to get his attention.

He sat at a bar stool with a cup of orange juiced and looked over the page.

'1. Where do you work and what do you do?'

He looked up at her and she waited for an answer.

"I'm a carpenter," he said and her jaw dropped, leaving him somewhat offended, "I work for a very small company who contracts for houses. Is that shocking?" he asked with an eyebrow raised. She nodded and he shrugged reading her next question to keep from looking at her utter shock.

'2. Do you think I could tag along today? I don't really want to be alone here.'

He thought that over. She was being pretty honest. If he had been under that curse he wouldn't want to be alone anymore either.

"I guess," he said casually sipping his drink and he held back a laugh when she made a little jump for joy. He read the last question.

'3. How long did Revenge say I had to be here before it tells you how to break the curse?'

He watched her anticipation and he looked away as he answered.

"It just said that you had to stay with me…" he answered with a shrug as he headed back to the fridge and pulled out some eggs. She didn't look satisfied with that answer, so he changed the subject before she questioned him again. "You want breakfast? You haven't eaten in a while right?"

Hermione's eyes lit up as she came to stand next to him to help with the eggs.

He sighed at his near escape. He wasn't ready to tell her just yet. For now, he'd try to make her as comfortable as his lifestyle would allow him. He wasn't going to go out of his way, and he was the kind of man who liked his own space, so there wouldn't be any conversations, but the least he could do was feed her.

After breakfast was done, she sat on the barstool next to him in such close proximity, it was hard for him to concentrate on eating.

Hermione's hair was up in an unruly mass of pins and berets. She was wearing a magenta, low cut silk blouse that was held up by thin delicate straps. There were ruffles in the front around the top hem and from what he could tell, she was braless. Her top was tucked into a grey pinstriped pencil skirt that stopped mid thigh. Her sheer stockings had a line running up the ankle, calf and thigh, disappearing under the skirt.

He assumed she'd been wearing a suit jacket but it was off during work when she was cursed.

He looked down at her red stilettos and he bet she wished, she'd have put on more practical shoes that day.

He hadn't paid much attention to any of that until last night when Revenge had told him about the sex he was supposed to have with her, and he'd given her his first onceover.

Aside from the fact that at the moment she was shoveling food in her mouth at an alarming pace, she was quite good looking. He'd somewhat imagined that after school, she'd have become a cat lady. When the Prophet had featured her picture for the first time in ten years, he'd been proven wrong, but hadn't really cared, as it was a passing thought.

Now he was looking at a girl he was going to bed with. Not to say that he was a total swine, but he felt a little better about the whole situation when at least she was attractive. She chose that moment to belch loudly. She covered her mouth looking embarrassed and he chuckled.

Attractive…

"Let's get going," he said taking her plate and his own to the sink and heading for the door.

She grabbed Revenge from the counter and headed out after him.

He didn't usually need to drive to work unless they needed supplies, but since he had a passenger today, he headed over to his black truck.

He got in after helping her up and trying not to make too wide of a berth around to the other side so she didn't fall through. It went without a hitch and he headed down the long dirt road that led to the highway. He felt strange as she stared at him. He knew she was probably stunned to see him driving.

"We're almost there," he said to fill the silence and it seemed that she'd realized she was rudely watching him, as she turned her head away and stared out of the window.

The ride felt like forever and he was already regretting letting her tag along. It was awkward and uncomfortable, the two of them acting like they were acquaintances. Trying to pretend like none of this was strange.

She opened Revenge and scribbled something, then held it up.

He took a few quick glances at it as he drove, and then laughed.

'Isn't this weird '

He liked the little smiling face she'd drawn next to it.

"I was just thinking the same thing," he said and she grinned.

The rest of the ride was peacefully calm.

There you go. let me know what you think. R&R