"What do you mean Tori was gone for an entire day and came back with a broken arm?" Draco asked Daphne in bewilderment. He and Hermione had just returned back from Romania and had barely stepped through the foyer when Daphne had rushed to them.

"Exactly what I fucking said," Daphne replied, her arms crossed. "She won't tell me what happened. Go figure it out, Draco. Something's wrong, read her mind if you have to."

Within seconds, Draco was at Astoria's door, knocking several times with no answer. Reading her mind would be a violation of his promise to her, so he refrained as much as he wanted to poke around. She could have simply tripped and fell, a simple explanation. But why wouldn't she say anything?

"Tori, I know you're in there," he said behind the door. Hermione finally made her way up the stairs and was by his side.

"Any luck?" she asked.

Draco shook his head. "No response yet."

"Let me see if I can help." Hermione stepped in front of him, knocking softly. "Astoria, may I come in? I missed you."

"Yes, Hermione, you may come in. No boys allowed though," Astoria's soft voice called.

Hermione walked through the door, and Draco took a quick look at Astoria as she sat in bed, seeing her arm in a cast, a nervous feeling creeping over him. Draco stood outside for what felt like an eternity, but really only had to have been fifteen minutes. He heard the two chatting distantly, but couldn't make out any distinct words. There were occasional giggles speckled between their conversation, and Draco tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for a lull in their conversation to knock again.

When it quieted, the door opened slightly, with Twinkle poking her small head out. "Lady Malfoy will see you now," the old house elf huffed.

Draco rolled his eyes at the drama of Astoria Greengrass. He walked in to see the two witches laying in bed under the covers. It would have warmed his heart if it wasn't so cold, seeing them smiling together. Though it wasn't likely, he hoped that Hermione would stay with her after the war. She'd need someone to keep her company after he was gone. And if Hermione wanted to start a family, there would be plenty of room for the both of them to do so at the manor, along with Daph. They wouldn't have to be alone without him.

Draco sat next to where Astoria laid, relaxing into the green suede armchair, tired from the eventful few days he had.

"So, are you going to tell me about this?" he asked, tapping her cast gently.

Astoria's smile faded, and she didn't look at him. "Are you going to tell me about this?"

She pulled something from the inside of her cast and set it down on the bed next to her. Draco looked and saw the galleon that had belonged to Cornelius before he came into possession of it.

He took a sharp breath between his teeth. "Now, where did you find that?"

"Will you just tell me the truth for once, Draco? Would it kill you?" Her voice was tired and exasperated.

"It belonged to Dad," Draco said softly. "Order coin, you could probably ask Granger about it. She's the one who designed them."

"It's meant to be discreet. Guess it wasn't as clever as I thought it was," Hermione said with a slight smile.

Astoria giggled, seemingly proud of her work. "It's very clever, I am just an expert puzzle solver. I found it in your desk Draco. I went to where it told me to go, and to my surprise, I saw Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley in an old barn."

Draco became more serious, sitting up and trying to find Astoria's gaze. "Did they hurt you?"

"No, of course not. I fell, and they healed me up. They were quite lovely to me, actually. Told me a lot too," she replied, finally turning in his direction.

"I'm sorry, Tori," Draco mumbled, knowing that she was now well aware of his actions. "I didn't want you to worry. They promised me that you and Daph would be able to keep all of our assets despite my involvement in the war. We have a written agreement for leniency for Teddy, Pansy, Blaise, and some others who were kids when the war started."

"What about you?" she asked. "You're helping them, so you should get leniency too. Right, Hermione?"

Astoria's eyes were pleading with the both of them for an answer she wanted to hear, but they both couldn't offer any comfort. She wanted them to be honest with her, and that's what they would be.

Draco rubbed the back of his neck, looking up to the ceiling for a moment. "Tori, there are many things I must repent for. Aiding the Order isn't enough."

Tears started to pour from Astoria's eyes. "That's not fair. Hermione, you have to tell Harry that it's not fair. Please."

Draco saw Hermione struggle with finding the right words to say. Her arm draped over Astoria, holding her head to her neck, brushing her fingers through her hair.

"Astoria…"

The door of the room opened, saving Hermione from having to give her an answer. Daphne made her way over to the three of them, standing in her signature stance: crossed arms, leaning on her back leg, an eyebrow raised.

"So, are we all done telling secrets now? Care to indulge your sister with any information? Or is the mudblood your keeper now?"

Astoria groaned, pushing further into Hermione, "Daph, don't be jealous. It's a nasty look on you."

Daphne rolled her eyes so hard that Draco thought they might get stuck in place. She turned to look at him. "Since Tori is so busy with her new best friend, do you want to tell me what's going on?"

Draco took a deep breath, his hand against his head in frustration. "I've been working as an informant for the Order, Tori found out, took a fall, spent the day with Potter and Friends, and now we're here. Any questions?"

"Why?"

"Wanted to finish what Dad started."

"How long?"

"Since he died."

She pointed to Hermione. "Was she in on it?"

"No."

"Are they giving you immunity?"

"No. But Teddy will be given a lightened sentence."

"Why, really?"

"I want Voldemort gone, for everything he's done."

"Fuck, Draco. This is insane."

"I know."

She was processing this information, but still had a stoic look about her. If there was one person Draco feared, it would be Daphne Greengrass. Her tongue could cut glass, she was smarter than nearly everyone he knew, and he thought she even rivaled the intelligence of Hermione. She was like a viper, quick to strike, deadly with her words, and cunning as could be.

And yet, he didn't think anyone understood him like she did. They both had the same hardened exterior, were difficult to get along with, and had very little patience. They nearly mirrored each other in every way, which put a strain on their relationship at times, but made them appreciate one another.

Daphne brushed her hand through her hair before she spoke again. "What do we do now?"

"Pretend like nothing is different. Keep moving forward until the war ends."

"Is there anything I can do to help you?" Daphne asked, her arms falling to her sides.

"Get into law school soon, I'll need a good lawyer when my reckoning comes," he said, smiling at her.

Daphne stood there, staring at him, holding back tears. "They're not going to give you a fair trial, you know. They're going to do everything they can to lock you away forever or kill you."

"I know. It's going to be okay, Daph. Come here," he said, trying to offer comfort, knowing she rarely accepted it.

He was shocked when she approached him, her arms extended out. He stood, and held onto Daphne, not remembering the last time she had given him a hug. "We should leave. Get out of England before the war ends."

"Where would we go?" he asked her.

"Well, there's New Zealand, Singapore, Qatar, anywhere but here."

"What about Teddy?"

"We'll all go, the four of us. Bring the mudblood if you want, we'll make a party of it," Daphne mumbled.

"Daph…" Astoria said, as a mother would scold her child.

"Sorry. Hermione. She can come too."

Draco swore he heard Hermione laugh along with Astoria, hopeful for a second she would have entertained the idea. But there was no escaping the inevitability of the Order winning the war. It was the only way he could see a world without Voldemort. Even if he did run away from the consequences he deserved to face, he didn't think they would let him go so easily.

Hermione wouldn't let him go that easily.

Though just the night before they had been together and Draco thought he experienced the closest thing he could get to touching heaven, the look in her eyes after she realized what she had done rattled him. The way her hands shook as she saw the blood that surrounded them and how she tried to pull away from his embrace destroyed him. For the first time, he thought he saw genuine fear in Hermione.

She still saw him as a monster, but he was okay with that, because he was one.

"And leave the manor and all our money in Gringotts behind? I know you've been eyeing my room, Daph," Draco said, trying to lighten the mood.

"You're so stupid, Draco. You're going to get us killed," she laughed. "But, I'm glad you're back."

"Speaking of being glad you're back, you remember that fancy French restaurant downtown that you like so much, Daph? I reserved it for tomorrow night, thought it might be nice to have a welcome home party. Invited some friends to join us."

"We were gone for two days," he sighed.

"Two days is much too long to be away from Hermione, I simply must make a fuss about it," Astoria giggled.

After Draco felt the burning sensation in his arm, he excused himself and made his way to the Ministry, wearing his mask and Death Eater robes. He stood before the Dark Lord, explaining his actions and misdirection, but that he was bringing back much more than he had taken away. They had lost a strong ally, but had gained an army of vampires. Victor would be more suitable in the role than Sanguini, who had become too crazed over the past few years.

Draco stood by Voldemort's side, watching as he tortured snatchers, screamed at Death Eaters, and panicked about his last remaining horcrux. Draco gave constant reminders of the aid that would be coming to England soon, but that wasn't enough to calm him. Dealing with a man with numbered days was becoming excruciatingly harder to bear, but once he knew the location of the last horcrux, it would mean the beginning of the end. It just needed to happen sooner, rather than later.

He couldn't help but smile, seeing how flustered Voldemort had become. Losing pieces of his soul, supporters, and Death Eaters, his regime was weakening by the day.

There were two snatchers that Voldemort wanted disposed of due to their outspokenness against his tone towards the room. Draco made quick work of them, filling his stomach, temporarily satiating his hunger. In the back of his mind though, he feared nothing would ever taste as good as Hermione did.

Every time he was alone with her, he couldn't stop his mind from thinking about tearing her apart, feeling her soft skin under his fingernails, biting into her throat that he loved to kiss. It was hard to concentrate on the pile of paperwork at his desk, and he worked late into the night. When he finally arrived home, he found Astoria waiting for him by the fireplace.

"You should be sleeping, Tori." He took off his cloak and mask, making his way over to her.

"I need to talk to you," she said seriously.

Draco raised an eyebrow and sat across from her. "What's that?"

"You need to take Hermione to see her friends next time you meet them."

"No."

"Draco, please," she begged.

"They'll take her if they can. She'll go back soon. It's temporary until we figure out how to help you, Tori. Then she can leave."

Astoria pouted, crossing her arms across her body, looking smaller than she had been even just before he left. "You know there's no way to save me, you just want to keep her."

"What are you talking about, Tori?"

"Nothing, I'm sorry. I'm just so tired, Draco."

"I know, but soon, you won't be."

—

Hermione slipped into the new dress Astoria had gotten her for the special dinner. She knew that it really wasn't for her and Draco, as Astoria had let it slip to her that Theodore was proposing to Daphne. It still seemed silly to her though, there were a dozen dresses already in the closet she could have worn, but Astoria insisted, so Hermione obliged.

The red dress framed her figure well, which was no surprise with Astoria acting as her personal stylist. The thin straps exposed her arms, but she didn't seem to mind it like how she would have a few months ago. In 10 years, she hadn't had clothes that flattered her to this extent, so she couldn't help but look at herself in a new light. She felt pretty, which was something she struggled with feeling since she learned of Ron's affair.

"You better tell Astoria if she keeps dressing you like this, I am going to eat you," Draco said, leaning against the doorframe, taking a sharp breath as he looked at her.

Hermione turned around, seeing him dressed in a button up and fitted pants, likely dressed by Astoria as well. "You've got an hour to do so before the party, just make it fast."

"Merlin, we both hate these things, don't we?" he said, making his way towards her, pulling her into him. His lips found her neck, and she murmured softly.

"Malfoy…"

"What's wrong?" he asked, still kissing her throat.

"I can't do this anymore," she whispered. Despite her objections, her arms wrapped around him and she moaned softly as he nipped at her skin. "It's wrong."

"But it feels so good, doesn't it?" He lifted her up, pressing her against the wall.

"No," she whispered as her legs wrapped around him. "It feels bad."

"It doesn't feel bad, Granger," he said in her ear. "I've heard you purring for me. You just feel bad afterwards."

"I'm so bad," she said. "It shouldn't feel this good. I wish it didn't feel so fucking good."

"Do you think you should be punished for being bad?"

Hermione, in a daze, nodded. She felt that she deserved every bruise left on her body after he touched her. They were a reminder of what he was, and that it was wrong what she was doing with him, as bad as she wanted it.

Draco carried her to the bed, sitting down on the edge and laying her on her stomach on his lap with her ass propped up. Cold fingers kneaded into her skin, and she felt him dig deep into her thighs as he pulled up on her dress. Her face was pressed into the soft sheets, breathing deeply into them each time he squeezed her flesh.

"Are you a bad girl, Granger?" he asked, pulling her underwear down around her knees. His hand firmly pressed against the soft skin on her bottom.

"Yes," she mumbled into the sheets. She felt his hand quickly strike where it was planted, sending a vibration through her body. Hermione yelped at the stinging sensation, her mouth hanging open as she gripped at the bedding.

Quickly, his cold hand rubbed over where he had spanked her, the cooling sensation against the stinging skin making her moan.

"Your ass is perfect," he whispered, leaning down to kiss and bite at it. "Do you need further correction, Granger? Or have you learned your lesson?"

"More," she demanded. She couldn't see his face, but heard him snicker softly to himself as his hand circled her other cheek. The anticipation was killing her, and she waited in agony.

When his hand struck her again, she breathed out deeply and stuck her ass higher in the air. His cold fingers played with the outside of her cunt, and she felt him spit down onto her slit. He alternated between spanking her and playing with her clit, always making sure his hand would sooth her after.

Each time she felt the stinging pain, it made her hungrier for him. It didn't feel like enough to her, she wanted more. His fingers slipped deep into her, and she bit down on her lip as he slid them in and out slowly.

"Do you want me to fuck you, Granger?"

She froze, fighting with herself. Every logical part of her brain begging her to say no, but the small whimpering of her monster drowned out everything else. The trap he had set for her had worked, she had fallen into it completely. But it wasn't as if she was completely clueless to the fact, she had seen him place it, and willingly followed.

"Fuck me," she gasped as he continued to touch her. Draco lifted her once more, setting her on her hands and knees. Pushing her head down into the mattress, he slid his cock into her. His fingers laced into her hair as he muttered to himself.

"You are so fuckable. There isn't a second when I'm with you that I'm not picturing this," he pulled out and slid back in. "I'm constantly thinking about your wet cunt. Your beautiful lips. Your pretty face. How good you are at making me come."

Hermione felt herself clamp down on his cock as he began to slam into her, pressing her face deeper into the bed. When his pace hastened, his hands held onto her bruised hips and fucked her like she hadn't ever been before. It took only a few strokes for her to buckle under him, shamelessly moaning out "Malfoy" as she orgasmed.

She felt him finish inside of her, the cold cum dripping down her thighs, and he bent down to kiss her shoulder breathlessly.

"We're going to be late," he mumbled into her ear as he pulled her underwear up and her dress down. "I want you to wear these all night, so that after dinner, I can come inside you again."

He lifted her up and straightened out her dress and hair, as if she was a doll he had just gotten done playing with. An unease in her stomach started to form, watching him as he picked up her heels from the floor next to the mirror, realizing how much she enjoyed what had just occurred.

"I'm perfectly capable of fixing myself up," she grumbled, snatching the shoes from him, trying to create distance between them.

"I know, but why should you if I am here?"

Hermione sighed, "I'm not your girlfriend or your mistress or anything, Malfoy. I am your prisoner. I am nothing to you."

He tilted her chin up to look him in the eyes. "You're wrong. You are everything to me."

—-

"Astoria, did you really have to invite her?" Draco asked as he saw Pansy clinging onto Goyle's arm, kissing at his face while he schmoozed with other Death Eaters. She wore a black slip dress that hung loosely on her chest.

"I didn't," she said back. "I invited Goyle because he's friends with Teddy."

They both sat at a table in the back of the restaurant away from prying eyes. Astoria had done her little show of greeting each person, kissing their cheeks, and telling them that they looked nice despite thinking their attire was less than acceptable. She had been in good spirits when the night had started, but fatigue quickly set in.

"Theodore is friends with everyone, how many people did you invite?"

"The restaurant seats 150," Astoria said innocently. "I can't help that word gets around fast."

Draco watched Hermione closely, she was a few tables away, sitting with a few other wards who stared blankly at their plates. Before they left the manor, she had held out her hand to him, expecting the silver ring that prevented her escape to be placed on her finger.

But he didn't put it on her, figuring now would be as good a time as any to see if her desire to leave was greater than her promises to Astoria or her wish to see him removed from this earth. If she could go tonight without trying to slip away, he'd be more comfortable with taking her to see Harry. With as willing as she was to keep him inside of her, wearing him as if he was an accessory, he didn't worry so much about her being so quick to leave.

For her own safety though, he kept her wand. With her temper, drinking habits, and general propensity towards violence, he thought it would be best to not hand her a weapon.

He averted his eyes back to Astoria, who sat quietly, which was unusual for the usually chatty witch. The bags under her eyes were heavy, and though she tried to conceal them with makeup, he saw the purple and blue hues through it.

Hermione had given him two options that could help Astoria. They could spend precious time collecting incredibly difficult and rare items from across the world to use them in a counter curse that may or may not work, or, Astoria could create a horcrux before turning into a vampire.

It was obvious which option they decided on. Asking Astoria to commit an act so heinous that a part of her soul would fracture was out of the question. Taking a life, though came easy for Draco, would be the end of Astoria's he feared. But if it came down to it, there wouldn't be another choice. It would be her life or someone else's, and no one was more important than Astoria.

He would pick the person, hold her hand, and help her if that meant she would be able to come back human again. And though that solution wouldn't cure him, he didn't care. It wasn't about him.

It was always about her.

"Tori, you can't still be upset over Parkinson, can you?" he asked, watching her sad eyes look at the witch who had broken her trust.

"I can't be mad at you, can I?" she retorted, looking down.

"She's not worth getting sad over."

"To you, maybe, but she's worth it to me."

Draco shook his head, "One day, you won't even think about her. I promise you. You're going to make so many better friends, find the man of your dreams, settle down, and live a long happy life."

"You're so stupid sometimes, Draco," Astoria whispered.

Draco smirked, taking a sip of wine. "Because I'm right?"

"No, because you're so, so wrong."

Draco took her hand in his, "Granger has a few options for you, Tori, you're going to have a second chance to live a perfectly normal life, no matter what."

"That's not what you're wrong about," she said, taking a big gulp of wine.

He looked at her. "What am I wrong about then?"

Astoria looked back to Pansy, who looked radiant among the men at the table who were trying to keep her attention. "She's the man of my dreams."

It took Draco half a second to process what Astoria had just confessed to him. If he had known, he would have never continued his long, sordid relationship with Pansy. Though he encouraged her to date, she never had success, assuming the suitors were fearful of sleeping with the wife of The Dark Lord's vampire. Now to his surprise, there was still more to learn about Astoria.

Before he could reply, the tap of silver to glass drew his attention to the center of the room. Theodore stood up, smiling from ear to ear. "As many of you know, Miss Daphne Greengrass and I have been together for several years now, and I have been a better man because of it. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Daph."

Theodore got on one knee, and the room went silent as he opened the small box open for Daphne. It made sense to Draco why Theodore was choosing now to propose to her. She would be able to change her surname, leaving the scar of the Greengrass title behind her. The opportunities it would open her to would be vast, and her applications wouldn't be passed on solely due to her name. And, most importantly, she wouldn't rely solely on Draco's protection any longer. And, if the Order is successful in defeating Voldemort's regime, it would be best if she wasn't associated with the Malfoy name.

The room erupted in an applause when she nodded yes, nearly tackling him to the ground as she threw her arms around him. And as happy as Draco was for them, he couldn't help but still worry about Astoria.

With tears of joy in her eyes, Astoria held onto Draco's hand. "I'm sorry for keeping secrets from you."

"Not nearly as much as I've been keeping from you," he smirked at her.

She turned to him, her hollow cheeks wet from crying. "Swear to me, Draco Malfoy, that you will be honest with me from here on out."

"I swear."

She cleared her throat, "Do you really think what Hermione came up with is going to work?"

"It's going to have to or we will have to resort to more drastic measures."

"What are those measures?"

Draco turned away from her, taking another drink of wine, letting it sit on his tongue for a moment. "Making a horcrux."