"It's rather late, perhaps our discussion can wait until tomorrow? Well, if you're here in the morning that is." Hermione smiled, turning again towards the door.

"Sit," he demanded, pulling her across the drawing room and forcefully sitting her down in a chair by the fireplace. He turned from her as he stood, staring into the crackling flames. She knew he was angry. The thinning of his lips and slight baring of his teeth gave away that much while his hands gripped the vast mantle in front of him. A combination of heat and cold surrounded her causing her exposed skin to tingle and her hands to tremble while she leered at his profile. His silence was maddening, but she didn't want to speak. The quietness between them was palpable. She was about to give up and say something, but stopped herself when he finally moved. He lowered his head, shaking it side to side, before turning his gaze towards her. Her lips parted, but he simply raised a hand to her, gesturing her to stay silent. He moved from his spot, slowly making his way to the chair across from her. He sat in the chair like a throne, his ramrod posture pressed against the back while his arms took advantage of the armrest.

"I believe I was clear when I said the celebration was over." Hermione frowned, then noticed movement in her peripheral vision. Turning her head she caught a glimpse of platinum blonde hair leaving the massive dark frame above the mantle, soon the Malfoy ancestor was followed by a mass exodus of other family members and pets that made a home along the walls of the drawing room. With a flick of his wrist, the doors to the room shut with a bang that vibrated through the near empty room. Folding her hands in her lap, she crossed her legs, the soft velvet of her dress fell to the side, revealing the length of long leg. She quickly moved the fabric back over skin, readying her stance for the dialogue of wicked words that were sure to come out. His scarlet eyes stayed on her face, then traveled down her covered leg crossed at her knee. "I hate to admit anything is difficult for me, but tonight did test me most aggressively." Hermione said nothing, only keeping her eyes on him. "It was difficult for me to keep my eyes off you. In fact, I believe it was difficult for anyone to keep their eyes off you." Voldemort smirked and another round of silence filled the space between them.

"I'm certain inviting Harry Potter's Mudblood best friend to a Death Eater's party is cause for people's attention."

"Perhaps," he said, reaching within his robe, pulling out the note she witnessed him stowing away earlier. She had to admit that she knew she was treading on thin ice when she snubbed his arm in front of his minions for Severus. Hermione's memory of writing the letter played behind the wall in her mind, thinking of anything that was written to cause Severus any trouble, but nothing came to mind. She made sure to keep it short, only recalling distant memories that didn't involve Voldemort. Well, directly didn't involve him anyway. Everything in her life revolved around him since she made friends with Harry.

"Read," hissed Voldemort, his eyes locked on hers as she reached over and took hold of the letter. Looking down at the parchment within her hands, Hermione began to read out loud, however stopping before she reached the end. Your...Your Insufferable-Know-It-All. She wasn't sure how she should be feeling at this moment. Fearful? Angry? Or humored how he had placed such power behind such a small word. A word she used hundreds of thousands of times whether in essays or letters home. She would not apologize for it, she had no malicious intention behind the valediction. The note was for Severus, not him. Severus? Oh, Merlin! Please don't let him endure anything because of me! Raising her head, his eyes met hers like piercing red hot daggers.

"Finish it," he snarled. Hermione kept her eyes on him as the words left her mouth.

"Your Insufferable-Know-It-All." Instantly, he was up from his seat and snatched the paper from her hand, crumpling it in this fist, before tossing it in the fire.

"Your. Your!"

"Allow me to make sure I'm understanding you correctly." Voldemort's eyes narrowed. "You're upset not from my refusal to be escorted by you, not by my reaction towards Bellatrix, and not this slightly scandalous red fucking dress, but that?" Hermione pointed to the crumpled paper burning in the flames next to them. "A bloody sign-off? Do you honestly think that I'm shagging Severus?" He filled the gap between them, placing his finger under her chin, so her eyes met his.

"Do you deny it?" he asked.

"Of course, I deny it!" she said, pushing his hand away and standing. "It's you creating some distorted narrative in your head about me. About me showing a simple act of kindness towards someone I have grown to know." He moved closer to her, his proximity so close his robe swept across her feet. The coolness of his hands numbed her cheeks, pulling her even closer.

"You care for him." The remark was not a question. She felt no need to lie to him. Besides he would know if she were.

"Yes...but not in the way you assume."

"I will cut off his hands if I find out they've touched you."

"He's never-" Her skull felt like it would crack under his weighted presence. She could feel each chip of rock fall away, dropping into the dark cavernous space in her head. "Stop! I told you, don't do-" She had to do something, she needed him out. Hermione would never consider herself a violent person, but sometimes, certain actions were necessary and the element of surprise was her only weapon. Hermione bent her fingers in towards her palm and squeezed in tightly, pulling her arm back before reaching her target.

The pain in her head transferred to her hand, but she didn't care, it was completely worth the rush. Even if that short lived high faded when a sudden crippling pain hit her chest. She fell to her knees trying her hardest to suck in the air her body was refusing to take.

"Breathe Hermione, it will pass, breathe," he whispered, into her ear, pressing her back into his chest while his arms encased her. She could feel him breathing in and out, guiding her to follow his respiring. "That's it, in and out. That brain of yours momentarily forgot about our oath, dearest." Her lungs filled with air and the warmth of his arms soothed her like calming balm. She turned in his arms to face him, her eyes made their way to the pink mark against his white flesh, right where her blow had landed.

"I hurt you." She knew it was wrong, very wrong. Yet deep down, she felt a sense of might that her tiny hand could cause the powerful wizard even just an ounce of pain. Voldemort raised a non-existent eyebrow, tilting his head as though examining her.

"Yes, such Muggle brutality is known to be painful." Hermione nodded her head in confirmation.

"Damn blood oath," she huffed. "Punching is a no-no; however, invasion into one's head doesn't count as hurting someone. Idiotic." Her thumb traced the thin curvature of his bottom lip, then moved to stroke the tender skin that she marked. "I don't want this anymore." She felt his body tense. "Let me rephrase," she quickly added, cupping his cheek. Hermione's heart started beating faster while watching him close his eyes and lean into her palm. "You will no longer hurt me." His eyes opened. "You know that disappearing on me hurts, your false accusations hurt, your over dramatics hurt, and you invading my mind hurts. You will no longer do these things."

"I cannot make any promise to you, Hermione."

"You don't have to, because I can make a promise for the both of us."

"Coming from your lips, it sounds more of a threat." Hermione gently removed herself from his arms and stood. Making her way to the door, she paused, turning to face the dark wizard who was now standing.

"Because it is," she replied, leaving the room and enjoying the sound of her heels as they clicked against the marble floor.