Penance

A/N: You guys are on a roll this story! Four chapters in and you guys are already catching things! I might have to make things a little more mysterious…


Germania: You are one of those wonderful people who catches things that I don’t say. If you’d only waited one more chapter lol. You will get your answer in this one.

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Hermione groaned. Her head was split in two. What had happened? Oh, she was so sick! She tasted the after-effects of bile in her mouth and her stomach lurched. She’d have to call Edna…damn! She was going to miss her anatomy lab! She’d have to leave Derek to his own devises…oh well. She knew someone would take notes, probably Cary, she’d get them from her.

Hermione rolled over and decided she shouldn’t have moved at all. She groped for the bowl she kept under the nightstand for when her nightmares got out of control. It had happened several times and she’d never been able to make it to the bathroom so the bowl was helpful. She realized that her nightstand was much shorter; she felt the top of as if she were level with the thing. That’s not right, her mind told her. Your bed is on the floor, your nightstand is taller…

Opening her morning-crusted eyes Hermione jumped. This wasn’t her nightstand or her apartment at all. Everything came flooding back to her and she bolted from the bed, falling into the nightstand where the lamp was already on its side. Apparently, that much alcohol did not run its course in one night as she could still feel the wavy existence of being drunk. She made it to the toilet with seconds to spare, purging herself over and over as tears streamed from her eyes. She would never forgive that bastard. He’d tricked her. She knew that alcohol was a poison to the body, but how was she to know it would do this to her? Everyone drank all the time and they never told her about this part…

“Morning, sunshine,” a deep voice drawled from the doorway. Hermione looked up into the disheveled face of Draco Malfoy, a.k.a the Devil.

“You better not be around when I finish here, Malfoy, because I will kill you with my bare hands,” she muttered darkly. He laughed. He actually laughed. She grabbed the soap dish form the counter and chucked it at him as hard as she could. It hit him on his bare chest leaving an angry red mark and an even angrier owner.

“What the fuck, Granger?” he yelled as the dish clattered to the floor.

“You asshole! You knew it would do this to me, didn’t you? It wasn’t enough to barge into my life and ruin everything but you had to nearly kill me in the process. Is that what you bloody wanted, to kill me?”

He glared at her darkly. “If I wanted you dead, Granger, you would have been so long ago. I don’t have to use the effects of alcohol to take someone out, trust me.”

“Then why would you do this to me?”

“Me? I just ordered you a damn drink, Granger! You didn’t have to bloody drink it if you didn’t want to! I didn’t force it down your throat!”

She scoffed. “Just get out of here, and put a shirt on. Don’t you have any decency?”

“You didn’t seem to mind last night,” he growled before turning away and stalking back into the room.

It was then that she remembered that particular part of the night and for once, she was glad she was leaning over a toilet because she was sick again. What had she done? What had he done, kissing her like that? Was that why he’d gotten her drunk, so he could take advantage of her? That sick bastard! Had he no scruples? Of course not, she told herself. He’s a Malfoy!

Hermione kicked herself mentally and fell sideways into the wall, remembering being in the same spot last night after Malfoy had held her hair back as she’d vomited profusely into the toilet. Malfoy held your hair? What the fuck was going on here? Since when did Malfoy do such un-Malfoyish things? Her head swirling, Hermione laid down on the cool tile of the bathroom. She didn’t think it was the most sanitary thing to do, given the motel they’d taken residence in but at the moment she could make herself care. God, she could lay here all day…

Shit! The bus, it left at 8:10!

“Malfoy!” she screamed. He skid into the bathroom and knelt at her feet while pulling a shirt over his platinum head.

“What? What is it? Are you going to be sick again?” he started to lift her up but she swatted at him.

“No, no, I’m not going to be sick! Get your hands off of me, what’s wrong with you? What time is it?”

“What?”

“What time is it? Go check the clock on the nightstand!” Urg, if she talked anymore her head was surely going to take a leave of absence from her body, perhaps permanently. He got up and left the room, shouting back to her:

“It’s just after 7:30!”

“Fuck! Get dressed, Malfoy, we have to go!”

“What? Why? You’re too sick to go anywhere, Granger!”

“We have to catch that bus at 8:10!”

She heard him curse and she rolled onto her stomach. She’d have to find some ibuprofen somewhere. Crookshanks had always retrieved her bottle when she had a headache before Hermione even thought about taking some. Since the third year Crookshanks had been showing more and more abilities that made her think he might be an animagus, but no matter how much she asked him he never answered. She hated leaving him but knew he would be just fine by himself. She’d left him alone for a couple days before and how many times had he been left to his own devises at Hogwarts? He knew where the food and water was and could figure his own way out of the house if he really needed to. He would wait for her to come back and she hoped he didn’t have to wait too long.

Hating her own stupid self and Malfoy for encouraging her she pulled herself to a standing position. Shedding her clothes she stepped into the shower and turned it on, the cold spray shocking her senses from their fog and making her want to hurl again. She choked back the sensation and quickly washed herself with the tiny bar of soap and small bottles of shampoo and conditioner offered by the motel. She threw back the curtain to grab and towel and snapped it back with a shriek that made her head shatter into pieces which fell around her feet like little pieces of glass.

“Malfoy! Get the hell out of here!”

“You told me to hurry, I’m brushing my teeth,” she could hear the sound of bristles against teeth and she huffed.

“I need to get dressed! Seriously, get out!”

“No.”

What a…urgh! She hated him so much! “You prick! Leave now or I’ll-,”

“You’ll what? Flash me?”

She screamed in frustration and grabbed the sides of her aching head. “Come on, we’re going to miss the bus!”

“Then get dressed!”

Knowing it would do no good to continue to argue with him she conceded. “At least hand me a towel,” she pleaded.

The brushing stopped and she stuck out her hand. A stiff, rough towel was thrust into her hand and she drew it in. The scrap of cloth dubbed a towel did not nearly suffice and she hadn’t brought her clothes into the bathroom.

“Cover your eyes,” she ordered.

“Now why would I do something like that?”

“Because I have to get to my bag which is in the room.”

“Then go get it, I don’t have to close my eyes for you to be able to do that.”

He was so infuriating! “If you had any decency at all-,”

“Well, it’s a good thing I don’t.”

“You made that quite obvious last night! You should be ashamed of yourself, taking advantage of me like that! Now close your goddamn eyes and let me pass with some semblance of privacy,” she huffed. When she heard nothing but the brushing she peeked out. One hand covered his eyes so she tucked the towel tightly around herself and darted out of the shower. She almost made it to the door when a hand shot out and grabbed the back of her towel, making it necessary for her to move with it if she wanted to keep it up. She made sounds of protest as Malfoy spun her around and brought his face close to hers, one hand still fisted in her towel on her back, pressing her against him. He looked dangerous and she swallowed nervously. Would he hurt her? She didn’t know.

“Don’t you ever accuse me of taking advantage of you,” he growled. She’d only ever seen him this angry once before and he had killed at that moment in time. “You participated as much as I. If you’re ashamed of what you did, fine, I don’t give a flying fuck what you feel about it. But don’t you dare try to take your humiliation out on me. We kissed, big fucking deal. Get over it.” He shoved her so hard from him that she stumbled and fell into the wall. Keeping her eyes on him she backed out of the bathroom, terrified. He was much bigger than she was, much stronger. She could see the evil glinting in his eyes. He could kill her without a second thought. She hurriedly threw on clothes, not caring that she was still wet from her shower. Her fingers trembled over the lacy underwear, mortification burning her cheeks as she realized that Malfoy had only packed her lacy ones. She heard the shower running and she packed everything back up and sank trembling on the bed, eyes glued on the door. When he came out, towel slung low on his hips, golden hair plastered to his head she skittered around him and locked herself in the steamy bathroom so she could brush her own teeth. When she came out Malfoy was waiting for her by the door, one hand in his robe pocket, the other twirling their room key. Gabbing her bag, Hermione exited the messy room and headed to the elevator, noticing for the first time that morning her aching knee and ribs…and head and stomach. Everything hurt.

Malfoy got in without a word and she hit the button for the bottom floor and stayed by the panel, keeping as much distance between her and Malfoy as she could. She turned in the key and threw on her jacket. They walked to the bus stop in silence, her knee protesting her fast pace. They didn’t have long to wait until the bus rolled around the corner and opened to pick up them and four other people. Hermione dropped money into the container and they made their way to the back of the bare bus. Hermione sat on the right side, scooting close to the window. Malfoy sat on the left, opposite of the aisle from her. She concentrated on keeping her stomach acid in place as the bus rolled forward. They picked up several more passengers and Hermione looked up when a man of around thirty sat next to her. Looking around the bus she noticed several empty seats. Why would he sit in an occupied one?

He said nothing for a while, just stared straight forward and Hermione ignored him, clutching the bag on her lap. Then he started talking in a very low voice.

“Headed to Regalia?”

“Yes,” she answered, not wanting to be rude. He was probably just lonely.

“What are you doing there?”

“Visiting my aunt,” she lied quickly.

“That’s nice of you. My aunt lives in Georgia, she would love if I visited her but I can stand the heat. You ever been there?”

Hermione shook her head.

“It’s killer, don’t get me wrong. Real pretty. Just hot. Know what I mean?” His voice had lowered so far that she had to strain to hear him over the rumble of the bus’s engine.

She nodded and looked out the window. She hoped he got the point that she wanted to be left alone, but he didn’t. The annoying man went on.

“What did you say your name was?” he asked.

“I didn’t.”

“Oh, forgive me and my rude manners. I’m John, and you are…?”

“Janie.”

“Janie. That’s a pretty name. Family name?”

She shook her head. Some people just never got the point.

“Ah, an individual. I think I like those better. Have a certain…kick. Don’t you think?”

“Sure.”

“I own my own business, you know.”

“Good for you,” she tried to sound sincere but her head pounded and she ached. If she opened her mouth for too long she was going to be sick again.

“It’s a very…individual business. Just like you. Very…exclusive clientele.”

“Hmm,” she nodded. What did she care about his business?

“We’re hiring, you know.”

She got it. He was looking for employees.

“I have a very nice job, thank you.”

“Not one like this, I assure you.”

“I bet it’s a great position, but really, I’m not interested.”

“The money is great and the benefits…numerous.”

His tone was making her uncomfortable. She’d already said no, why wouldn’t he leave? She shifted closer to the window if it was possible and jumped nearly out of her skin when she felt his overly warm hand on her thigh.

“I give great benefits,” he growled, his hand inching its way up. She was about to slap him when he was suddenly wrench out of the seat.

“She told you no, so get your filthy hands off my woman.” Draco growled, holding the man up by his shirt just like the clerk.

“Get the fuck off me! She don’t look like your woman!”

“Then open your good-for-nothing eyes. She’s not that type of girl.”

“What the fuck do you know you little British pussy? You’ll pay for this!” Hermione gasped as the man smashed his fist into Malfoy’s cheek and she rose to help but before she could reach them, who were about two feet from her, Malfoy had him in a headlock after twisting his arm and she heard it snap. The man howled in pain as Malfoy dragged him up the bus. The driver, hearing the commotion, pulled the bus over.

“This is his stop,” Malfoy said gruffly. The driver opened the door and Malfoy shoved him down the steps.

“No it’s not!”

“It is now,” Malfoy said.

“I fucking paid for this! You owe me a client!”

Malfoy talked lowly to the bus driver who looked back at her in his rearview mirror. He nodded and Malfoy started his way back down the aisle as the bus pulled back into traffic. Hermione plastered herself against the window as he sat next to her.

“What was all that about? We were just talking!”

“Talking my arse,” he grumbled, leaning back in the seat and crossing his arms.

“He just wanted me to take a position with his company!”

“Are you really that naïve? Granger, he wanted you to be one of his whores!”

Hermione blanched. “W-what? That’s ridiculous, of course not,”

“Open your fucking eyes! Think about what he said to you, think about the way he touched you! Do you really think that was just your average, every day job offering? Holy fucking Merlin you’re dense!” Malfoy rested the back of his head against the seat. Hermione thought about what the man had said and shivered. Maybe Malfoy was right.

“Just leave me alone, please,” she whispered. “I can take care of myself. I’ve done it for several years now, a few more days won’t hurt anything.”

He snorted and flew back to his original seat. Hermione turned away and stared out the window, the tears wanting to come. She didn’t let them; she wouldn’t let him get to her. She hated him, loathed him, despised him. She was sick of this game, sick of driving across America in the presence of this arsehole who had up-heaved her carefully constructed life with very little answers to give her. The sooner they got back and she did what she needed to do the sooner she could fake her death again and go back to her apartment and Crookshanks and being a doctor. Feeling ill again, Hermione closed her eyes and tried to rest.

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A/N: Just to let you guys know, I’m making up cities. I’m renaming them ;) So if you really want to know where they are I will give you guys areas but I don’t want to use real cities because I want to make them my own. But they are in Missouri right now.

XOXO

RynStar15