Dazed and Confused

Title: Dazed and Confused

Author: Amonara

Disclaimer: All characters are just borrowed from JK Rowling, for my playing pleasure. I’m sorry…don’t hurt me.

Note: Chapter 2, it gets a little darker and hopefully better than the first chapter. And as I only had one review this chapter is dedicated to Tamea. Thank you very much for your support. I would also like to reiterate that this is just my very first HG/DM fic, not to mention only fanfic I’ve ever written. So you might have to bear with me. Of course, all reviews are welcome even those that criticize, I need constructive criticism to get better. Thank you for reading my story.

Well, this chapter is still dedicated to Tamea, but I would like to send a boat load of thank yous to Fiji Film and Pinkpig! Thanks you sooooo very much for reviewing. Hopefully AFF will be finally working again and let me put this chapter up.

~*~*~

Humiliation. How one word could make a normal Monday morning seem gigantic in its hideousness was beyond the normally brave Gryffindor. Just the idea of having to walk into the Great Hall made her nauseous. She could just see the entire Slytherin table snickering and staring once she made her entrance. Then the word would spread like wildfire, from table to table, until even her very own Gryffindors would be talking about her behind her back. She was the Head Girl! This was not supposed to happen. It was a position that commanded respect; she was supposed to be a role model. How had her plan gone all wrong?

Hermione stared into the mirror above her sink, her dark brown eyes narrowing furiously.

Perhaps the question wasn’t how, but why. Why had Draco been patrolling on the sixth floor of all places? And why had he ventured up to the seventh floor? And why, oh why had the bastard waltzed into the Room of Requirement? Had he known?

Hermione sighed, it was no use conjuring up millions of questions she had no answer to.

She surveyed herself in the mirror, her frizzy brown hair didn’t look quite as if she hadn’t bothered to brush it, and the new blonde highlights Lavender had insisted putting in her hair actually looked nice. If her eyes were still a little red, well she could manage a cheery smile to counter that or just blame it on a sleepless night of studying, assuming the news of Hermione Granger’s sexual adventures hadn’t traversed the school. She smoothed her hands down over her skirt, adjusted her red and gold tie, and on impulse curled her eyelashes with her wand feeling slightly silly.

“That’s the spirit, dear.” Her mirror commented drearily.

Hermione took a deep breath, threw back her shoulders and strode out of her bathroom. Trying to keep up the momentum she currently seemed to have, she just grabbed her cloak and headed straight out her door.

Unfortunately she wasn’t planning on running into a certain loafing blonde grey eyed menace, who was currently occupying one of the sofas that decorated their shared common room.

“What no sex appeal this morning, Granger? To much effort I suppose.” The blonde Slytherin said with his usual arrogant smirk.

“Stuff it, Malfoy.” Hermione snarled, her face flushed with anger.

“My, my, we are civil this morning aren’t we?”

Hermione chose to studiously ignore his taunting words, and headed for the exit.

“Granger.”

Hermione stopped abruptly at his terseness.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

She turned swiftly to face the blonde Slytherin, her hands defiantly on her hips.

“No, Malfoy. I don’t believe I am.”

He swung his legs over the edge of the couch, standing up in one graceful motion. It was easy to see why Draco had become so sought after by the witches of Hogwarts. His grey sweater fit snuggly across his chest, it was just tight enough to outline his lean streamlined muscles and draw attention to the slight bulge of his arms. His skin was just as fair as it had always been, illuminating the harsh predatory glint in his sharp grey eyes. And as he walked towards her, his cheekbone length wispy bangs fell slightly in front of his face forcing him to toss them back with one swift and much practiced movement.

Hermione frowned slightly, inwardly berating herself for checking out Draco Malfoy of all people. She mentally decided to allocate those thoughts to an innermost recess of her brain to ponder over in a time when she wasn’t as distraught. It was perfectly normal to do and think strange things when under great stress, perhaps even hallucinate.

It have been Hermione’s preoccupation with her thoughts, or her emotional state, but she did not notice the glint in Malfoy’s eyes as he stepped towards her, nor did she notice the peculiar flash of emotions run across his face. By the time she had snapped herself back into her normal alert state, he was only a few feet from her and the only look on his face was his usual twisted smirk.

She looked up into his eyes, a shiver going down her spine at the glint of ferocity in their depths.

“Oh, but I believe you are.”

“I beg your pardon?” She queried, raising an eyebrow. Somehow the threat of his close proximity made the rhythm of her heart beat at a rapid pace, in fact she felt quite shaky.

Ever the brave Gryffindor, she brought her hands down to her sides, hiding her weakness by clutching them into tight fists and defiantly stuck out her chin, looking Malfoy squarely and coldly back in the eyes.

If possible, Draco’s smirk deepened.

“Believe me, you’ll be begging. But not for my pardon.”

Hermione stared at her enemy for while before his words began to sink in. Her mouth dropped open, before she clamped it shut, not sure what kind of underhanded torture he had in mind.

“Are you blackmailing me?” She said incredulously. She had expected him to publicly humiliate her, but to blackmail her? It was all so horrifying unexpected. What could he possibly want from her? Although, all she could insinuate from his words, spoke of things that she could not and refused to even fathom.

The blonde smiled cruelly, his grey eyes shining mercilessly. He couldn’t believe how perfectly the mudblood witch had fallen into his hands, he had been under orders from his father for quite sometime to sabotage the golden trio any way he could. And now it had been handed to him on a silver platter. Draco could practically see the proud look on his father’s face looming before him. It was the one thing in his life that he had never been able to attain. Always there had been someone or something in his way. Failure after failure he had humiliated himself numerously, mainly at the hands of the golden trio. All that was about to change. He, Draco Malfoy, was going to rise in his father’s esteem. Finally, he would be acknowledged as Lucius’s son, the rightful heir to the Malfoy fortune and the fame that went with it. And it would all start with the brown eyed witch standing before him, the fear practically emanating from her body.

“Would you expect me to pass up such a perfect opportunity? The prissy Head Girl caught past curfew, half dressed and in the arms of a Weasley. It’s all a Slytherin could wish for.”

Hermione scowled, “You mean a Death Eater.”

Draco sniffed superiorly, “Well, I haven’t achieved that status yet. Besides, why waste such beauty on war?”

Hermione crossed her arms across her chest with a disgusted look at his arrogance.

“It would be such a shame to have any important body parts hexed off.” He smirked, ignoring her look.

“I’m sure I’ll be needing it…I mean them.” The smug blonde held back a snicker.

He stepped closer to her, so close that she could feel the heat radiating from his body.

Hermione felt her stomach plummet to her knees as she saw the lewd look grace his pale features.

“Take one step closer Malfoy and you won’t have any important body parts left to hex off.” She announced bravely, inching backwards and reaching in her cloak for her wand.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. I don’t think so Granger.”

Before she could even touch her own wand, Hermione blanched at the wand now pointed at her nose.

“Slowly remove your hand from your cloak, or I hex you into oblivion.”

Hermione surrendered to the inevitable and let her hands drop to her sides.

Draco, not once lowering his wand, reached into her cloak and removed her wand. Just the brief contact of the back of his hand brushing against her breast sent shivers of dread down her spine and made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

“Now, we make a deal. You do as I say, or I blab and all chances of a job in the ministry or as a teacher at Hogwarts disappear. Not to mention, you will likely be demoted from your post as Head Girl.”

Hermione opened her mouth to protest.

“I am not finished, Granger. And don’t even think of trying to turn the tables on me. I’m sure once the word gets out about you, what you have to say will become less reliable. And in the end you will lose everything.”

“I won’t agree Malfoy, not without knowing what you want from me.”

The tall blonde merely smirked.

“Oh you’ll agree. Perhaps, I’ll borrow a page from your book and make our agreement binding.”

He pulled a small vial from his pocket filled with a swirling rose colored liquid.

“You aren’t the only one with talents Granger. This useful potion I had the foresight to concoct last night, will bind you to our agreement. Should you try to speak of it or this entire matter to anyone else there will be dire effects. Effects I wouldn’t want to risk.”

With a pop he uncorked the vial and offered it to her, with a mock gentlemanly bow.

“Drink up, m’lady. It’s either this or eternal disgrace.”

Hermione found herself faced with a situation even she couldn’t get out of. She had no alternatives, no wand, and a bleak future to look forward to. With a shaking hand she took the potion from his hand. Trying to give her best, she raised the vial to him in a mock toast and threw back the liquid.

“So, you agree?” Malfoy asked, triumph written across his pale aristocratic features.

“I agree.”