Draco wasn't surprised to hear Hermione rustling around in the early morning hours, packing her things away. If anything, he found it irritating how she was always awake. He half considered poking in her mind, wondering what she was thinking about as she furiously shoved her clothes into her bag, but refrained. He kept his eyes closed, relaxing for a few moments. Even though this weekend was supposed to be a vacation, it was spent getting that fucking horcrux. And it was work, the obstacles that he and Hermione had to jump through, in addition to saving Weasley's life. He wanted to leave him down there in the cold water, but the way that Hermione had demanded him, he couldn't refuse.

But at least they had gotten what they had come for, and Hermione was going back home with him. To say that this mission was a success would be an understatement. He had won, he had convinced her to return with him and not try to make a run for it, and within the next few weeks, the Order will destroy the locket. Things felt like they were falling into place.

He could feel her presence looking down at him as he laid on the couch. Her stare was like daggers, and he loved the sensation. Draco peeked his eyes open and saw her glaring, arms crossed, and he smiled.

"I know you're not sleeping," she said. "I'm ready to leave."

"The other two twats aren't even awake yet," he grumbled, his arm reached out for her and he pulled her onto the couch with him. She struggled against him for a moment before settling in his arms. He soaked up her warmth, feeling her heartbeat, listening to it carefully.

"I know, I want to be gone before they're up."

He kissed her neck but she squirmed away, and he let her go. "You're mad at me again."

"I want to be very clear, I am never not mad at you, Malfoy," she spat. "But I am mad at everyone today, so can we just go?"

He packed up their tent and watched as Hermione stood and stared at the other with Ron and Harry inside. She was contemplating whether or not to say goodbye, wondering if it would be worth the pain of seeing them again. After several minutes, she convinced herself that it wasn't worth her time, and she had said all she needed to.

Hermione stormed past him, and for the entire trek, she was silent. When they Apparated back to the manor, she went straight to the library, ignoring him completely. He was tempted to follow her, but decided that more pressing matters were at hand.

Draco knocked on Astoria's door and Twinkle came to open it. "Welcome home, Master Draco," the old house elf called. "Lady Astoria will be most excited to see you."

He entered the room to find Astoria and Pansy fussing over table cloth swatches. Astoria laid under her thick covers while Pansy sat in a chair next to her, holding up the various shades of fabric. Astoria looked up and smiled brightly.

"Draco, you're back!" she patted her bedside, beaconing for him to sit next to her. He nodded at Pansy, who eyed him closely when he sat down. "I missed you. Where's Hermione?"

Draco kissed the back of her hand. "She's quite tired, Tori. I'm sure she'll swing by to see you later."

"I can't believe you let her in your room," Pansy scoffed.

"She's my friend, Pansy," Astoria said. "She'll be my plus one to your party."

"The mudblood isn't invited," Pansy said firmly. "Besides, isn't your dear husband going to be your plus one?"

"Parkinson, you know I don't have time for frivolous parties."

"But Draco, it's not frivolous, it's her birthday," Astoria pouted.

Draco sighed. "I'm paying for it, can't that be enough for the both of you?"

"And we're hosting here," Astoria said with a smile on her face. Draco looked at her with annoyance.

"Here?" Draco let out another sigh and laid on the bed next to Astoria. He looked at the color in her cheeks and noticed she looked a lot healthier than a few days ago. If hosting Pansy's party at their home made her happy, he would oblige. "Fine. Can I have a minute alone with my wife?"

Pansy nodded and left the room. Draco rested his head in the crook of her arm and she played with his hair.

"You seem tired," she said. "Did everything go okay this weekend?"

"I think so," he said, closing his eyes, knowing they got the horcrux and Hermione was back at the manor.

"Is she feeling better?" Astoria asked, believing that Draco was taking Hermione on some lavish getaway so she could have her spirits lifted. In actuality, Hermione was much worse than when she left.

"Oh, no. She's quite mad at me, actually."

Astoria turns his face to look at her. "What did you do?"

"Nothing. She's just always mad at me." He wished he could tell her everything he was doing. That he was following her father's footsteps, aiding the Order. But it was too risky, and he didn't want to compromise her.

He knew exactly why Hermione was mad at him. He was isolating her, pushing her away from her life and forcing her to clutch onto him.

And it wasn't as if they didn't have a role in it themselves. Harry and Ron did a good enough job of that on their own, he just needed to add a few more seeds of doubt in her mind and then she wouldn't need them anymore, she'd need him.

She would hate him, but she would need him.

"Whatever it is you've done, you need to fix it. I'm tired of fixing your emotional messes, Draco." She paused for a moment, fixing his hair. "I really like her. She's nice to me. And you really like her."

Draco rolled his eyes. "She's work, Tori. Nothing more."

"You lie to me too much, Draco. You and Daph. Always lying because you don't think I can handle the truth. But I can, I'm a big girl."

He laughed, pulling her close. "I know, Tori."

"Go fix your mess. And tell Pansy she doesn't have to stay any more now that you're back."

Even though he wanted to avoid any alone encounters with Pansy today, he obliged. He kissed Astoria on the cheek, tucked her in, and let her rest. He searched the manor for Pansy, and looked everywhere but the library and his own room. When she was nowhere to be found, he knew exactly where she was.

He opened the door to his chambers to find Pansy naked in his bed. She had the silk sheet wrapped perfectly around her body, to where he could see every curve of her figure. Compared to most women, she was thin and tall with perky breasts, and Draco had always thought she was incredibly attractive. She had sharp features that made her alluring, and her body was tight and firm. It was hard to resist, even after their multiple breakups through the decade, they'd always come crawling back to one another.

"What are you doing, Pansy?" he said, trying his best not to divert his eyes to the silk sheet. "Astoria is home."

"When have you ever cared about that?" she replied, slipping the sheet down further, exposing her chest. "You've always been a piece of shit, you've never cared if she was home or even if she was in the next room over."

"Listen here, you cunt," he said, storming over to the bed. His hand went to her throat, holding it firmly, feeling her heartbeat that went unchanged. She simply smiled at him. "I am not in the fucking mood today."

Pansy looked up into his eyes and bit her lip, causing a small trickle of blood to seep out. "I bet I could get you in the mood."

"Fuck you," he said, crawling on top of her, licking the blood away. He held her hands above her head as he nicked her lip with his fang, letting more of her spill.

The buttons of his shirt tore open as Pansy clawed her way into him. Draco grabbed onto her hips and thighs, and though he knew her body well, it felt strange to him. She was so much different from how Hermione felt. Hermione was soft, supple, and he loved that he could knead his fingers into her. Working her flesh until she moaned out for him.

Everything about her was soft. Her curly hair, her arms, her stomach, her thighs, her fucking lips that he wanted to badly to feel against his own.

But he didn't think he'd ever get to. His lips didn't deserve to touch hers. They were the cause of so much death and destruction. She deserved better than that. Everything about her was good. The way she held Astoria and cared for her told him everything he needed to know.

"Draco?" Pansy interrupted his train of thought, not realizing that he had completely frozen in place while he thought of her. Draco pushed away from Pansy, laying back on the bed. "What the fuck has been up with you lately? It's been months and you can't get a hard on, you don't come by my place, and you barely look at me."

Draco draped his arm over his eyes, hiding away from her. "You should leave, Parkinson."

"You're fucking joking, right? Draco?" She shook him. "You're such a prick."

"I'll walk you out. Have your little party with Astoria, then we're done," he said firmly, still not looking. "After that, never talk to Astoria again."

Pansy got up and started aggressively pulling her clothes on. "I'm her best friend, you know? She won't let you keep me from her. And you'll come crawling back next week. Saying how much you miss me and how much you need me."

Draco stood up and walked to the door, waiting for her to finish. It was always dramatic when they were ending things, each time they'd yell and scream at each other. But this was the first time Draco felt like he meant it.

"You're a shitty best friend, she deserves better. And I don't need you, I got her." He opened the door. "Hurry up."

Pansy made her way to the exit, looking at him once more. "You're going to want me back, you always do."

Draco's eye darted down the hall when he saw movement. Hermione stood at the end, holding a stack of books. She shook her head, rolled her eyes, and walked towards her wing of the manor.

Impeccable timing as always, Granger.

He hurried Pansy out of the manor and stormed towards Hermione's door. Several times he knocked and received no answer. In a desperate attempt, he tried to read her jumbled mind through the door.

"Don't make me break down this door," he called to her.

He heard her footsteps shuffle towards him. Hermione cracked the bedroom door open slightly. Fire whiskey wafted off her breath. "What? All finished with her so you can make a fool of me now?"

"I didn't touch her." Hermione's eyes scanned up his torso along his ripped shirt up to his disheveled hair. "Okay, I kind of touched her."

"You're a pig, Draco Malfoy," she slurred.

He smirked at her, watching her become more and more angry by the second. "I didn't peg you for the jealous type, Granger."

"You think I'm jealous? You could fuck the whole world for all I care, I don't want you to touch me anymore."

She attempted to slam the door shut, but Draco's arm stopped it before it closed. "It's midday and you're already hammered. You won't even remember what you've said by this evening."

"Oh will you just fuck off, Malfoy. Let me read about how to kill you and sulk in peace."

In her head, she was upset for a multitude of reasons. Draco thought it would be him that was upsetting her the most, but it wasn't. Potter and Weasley still lingered in her mind.

"You can't still be bothered by them, can you? Potter made it clear that you're just fodder to him and Weasley called you a whore. Do you really think you should be wasting your time moping around because of those two worthless pieces of shit?"

Hermione tried to shut the door, using all of her strength to try to budge it closed. Draco found it endearing how she still believed she could have some sort of leverage to overpower him. In all honesty, he knew he'd be able to kill her with a single touch.

After many attempts to close the door, she yelled in frustration. The way her eyes looked at him with pure rage made him want to throw her onto the bed and fuck her until they were rolling back into her skull. Hermione picked up a book and threw it across the room. It clattered to the floor and she picked up another.

"He gave me a way like I was nothing more than an object!" she screamed as she threw the book at the vanity mirror. It was untouched, nor even a crack or dent because of the charms to protect her from herself. "All because of you."

She walked to the mirror and punched it, upset that it didn't shatter.

"Because of you, they call me a whore and they don't want me back!" she yelled again, repeatedly smashing her fist against the reflective surface. Draco saw her skin split and smelt the blood that was now covering her knuckles.

"Granger, stop. You're hurting yourself," Draco said softly as he came from behind her, holding her wrist so she couldn't continue to smash her hand into the vanity.

She looked at him through the bloodied mirror. "Why? Are you going to make me pay for hurting myself?"

Draco turned her to face him, still clutching her wrist. The rage in her eyes was still burning, but he couldn't help but notice the sadness in them too. He pressed her knuckles against his lips, hoping that his cold skin would soothe them, but also selfishly wanting to taste her again.

His eyes stared into hers, "Would it help if you hurt me?"

Her lips parted, pondering his question. "I'm not sure."

Draco snapped his fingers and summoned the small tool kit containing the enchanted knives and surgical blades. Ones that he had specifically made to cut into his skin. The same ones that Hermione had used not long ago to dig into his flesh.

Letting her wrist go, he slipped the compact roll into her hands and watched as she unraveled it. Her fingertips touched each one until she found the # 22 blade she was so fond of, the one that drew her blood as well.

Draco fell to his knees before her, unbuttoning his shirt as her brown eyes looked down at him with hate. The tip of the blade pressed against his cheekbone, drawing a small amount of blood, but nothing more. She pushed his shoulder back, and he laid on the wooden floor.

Hermione straddled his chest, swiping the blade across his pecs in a sweeping motion, making a superficial cut that healed instantly. It didn't hurt him at all, just a slight sting that faded as quickly as it happened.

"I hate you," she muttered, stabbing the blade as hard as she could into his chest. When she pulled out, his blood spattered across her face. She looked wild, her curls pointing in all different directions, her teeth clenched, her body shaking. Draco felt his cock stir as she continued her onslaught.

"You're a monster."

"Evil, wretched piece of shit."

"Scum of the earth."

"I only let you touch me because I hate myself."

"Leech."

"I hate you," she screamed as she used both of her hands to drive the blade into his sternum. It clattered against his bone, not being able to break it, causing Hermione to cut the palm of her hand. "Fuck you!"

Draco's eyes widened, worried she might have done more damage to herself in her frenzied rage.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Shut up," her voice slurred. She clasped her bleeding hand against his mouth, letting herself bleed into him.

It was heavenly the way she tasted. Like a sweet wine after a hearty meal. A craving he didn't realize he had until he had just a drop of her. Now, she was bleeding deeply into his mouth, her warm blood coating his face. It was intoxicating, and he moaned onto her skin.

Hermione's other hand reached back and felt his erection buzzing through his pants. "You're a sick fuck, Malfoy. A fucking pig."

Her hand fumbled with his belt, and she released him from his confines, her warm fingers wrapping around him. The softness of her hand tugging at him as he tasted her nearly made him come.

Hermione grabbed the blade again, cutting her pants away to reveal her light pink underwear. Draco watched as she backed onto his cock, slipping it into the pink fabric, nestling her wet cunt against it. She rocked her hips back, and his pre-cum soaked the front panel of her underwear. Through the thin material, he could see her lips wrapped over his throbbing dick.

"Fucking hell, Granger," he managed to gasp out before she had her hand over his mouth again. He lapped at her blood, taking in as much as he could as she danced on his cock. Her breasts bounced slightly under her shirt, her nipples gently poking through the bloodied material.

"They think I'm a whore?" she mumbled breathlessly. "You haven't even fucked me. And you never will."

The fabric of her panties became more soaked as she slid against him, they both were dripping with unbridled pleasure. Draco's fingers dug into her soft thighs, his grip on her becoming tighter with each movement of her hips. He watched closely as the head of his cock poked through her pink underwear, feeling her clit swell, the wet outlines of both of them making him drool.

He could feel every crevice of her cunt drag across him, and he desperately wished to feel inside. If she was this warm on the outside, there must have been a furnace burning within her.

"Do you think I'm a whore, Malfoy?" she asked as she grinded faster into him. "Do you think I'm a fucking whore?"

Her hand released from his mouth and pulled her shirt off, revealing her breasts that had been begging to be released. She ran her wound over them, coating herself in both of their ichor.

"Do you… think… I'm a… whore?" she spit out between breaths.

Draco's hands were now on her waist, squeezing her as gently as he could while still attempting to get her to whimper. And she did, she melted and mewled under his fingertips. "You're my fucking whore," he said, looking into her eyes.

Her mouth hung open as her eyes started to roll back.

"You're my… fucking… whore…" he grunted as he felt his cock uncontrollably twitch under her. The blood rushed from his head and his cum shot through her underwear, dripping from the fabric onto his stomach as she kept sliding against him. He felt his cum spreading between them, and she used it to move herself faster.

"I'm your… fucking… whore," she gasped as her thighs tightened around him and he felt her release, dripping all over him like a warm summer rain. Her lips trembled as she moaned.

Buckling over, she braced herself upright with her hands on his chest, breathing heavily. Hermione weakly stood, and Draco watched as their cum dripped down her thighs from her soaked underwear. She went straight for the bottle of fire whiskey at the desk, drinking straight from the bottle.

Draco felt himself become hard again, seeing how beautiful she looked covered from head to toe in blood, leaking their pleasure on the wooden floor. He followed behind her, picking up her shirt that was thrown aside. Tearing a small piece of it, he wrapped her wounded hand before he buried his cock under the wet underwear against her ass.

His lips found her neck, where he planted kisses against her skin.

"Did hurting me help?" he asked her.

"I don't know," she said softly.

Draco ran his fingers along her body, feeling every slight tremble she made.

"I need you to take me back to Hogwarts soon," she said, taking another drink.

"Whatever you fucking want," he whispered against her throat, holding her tightly against him. "Just tell me and I'll give it to you."

"Then you'll take me to Transylvania, so I can look at the vampire archives there."

Draco paused, stunned at her request. He half thought she was joking, but she didn't react. Bringing her to any vampire settlement would mean death for her. "Not a chance."

"You said whatever I fucking want," she whispered, grinding her ass into his erection. His hand went to her throat as he groaned into her ear.

Protecting her from other vampires that wanted to drain her of blood wouldn't be easy by any means. Especially with how erratic and unpredictable she was. Though, being the right hand to the Dark Lord did have its advantage of being widely respected, with many vampires being under the rule of Voldemort themselves.

It wouldn't be easy, but he would do it. For her and for Astoria.

"Fucking fine," he grumbled, kissing her head, burying his nose into her curls, breathing her in.

"Leave now," she said, pulling a book open, ignoring his advances.

A pit formed in his stomach, he didn't want to unravel himself from her. It had been so easy before, but each time he touched her the more he needed her flesh to be bound to his.

He took in one last breath of her before backing away.