Bittersweet

Chapter 6

When she finally felt her legs give a twitch, she grabbed for the closest thing she could get her hands on. The chair seemed just in the right spot for her hand and she glided her fingers on it, feeling for a pole or something stable that she could hold onto. She found the back of the chair, held onto the back of it, and pulled herself to a sitting position.

She moaned in pain, she could feel her bones in her body go weak, her head give a jolt in protest and she could finally see her skirt torn to shreds from what had occurred earlier. Her legs were spread apart, her panties, which used to be intact, where thrown to the side torn to pieces and scrapes and cuts all along her arms and legs.

She felt completely violated, used, damaged, and victimized. She felt disgusted with herself, she hated the fact that she let herself be treated and corrupted in this manor, and to think if she would have ignored her implications that this would have never happened. She couldn’t help herself, she felt partly responsible for this debacle.

She wanted to cry out in anger, she was furious. She felt weak and like a toy that could be played with, she felt horrible. She tried to ease the pain and not to cry, but it was no use. She was alone in her damaged fate. She let a single tear fall to the hard ground that she had been abused on. Once that single tear hit the cobblestone, there was no stopping the hundreds that followed. There was no fixing the emotional roller coaster that would lead her here. She was trapped now, trapped from everything that she held sacred. He had taken a part of her, a part that was once her being that was once her. She was tattered, a broken part of a whole.

Where was she to go now? What was she to do; lye here until he could take her again, shred the last of her dignity? What were her choices? She had to tell someone, she had to. There was no other way, but what would he do to her family, to her, if someone found out. She had to protect what she had left; she had to protect the little eradication of freedom.

She slowly grabbed harder onto the chair that her hand had presently been accompanying, pushed herself to a standing position and wavered while her feet adjusted to the new arrangement. She had to at least get out of this room, it was the one place that she needed to leave, she needed to collect her thoughts and decide what her decisions would be. Knowing that she couldn’t outsmart him or do anything that wouldn’t cause her family harm, she would be forced to live with the feeling of being taken, abused to the core.

She needed to get to her bedroom, to lay down and possible find another route where her family and friends would be safe. This was her problem, she had caused this, and she wasn’t going to break down, like he wanted her to. There had to be another way, there just had to be.

By the time she had left the secret alcove, made her way to her bedroom, and laid down on her circular bed, it was nearly two in the morning. She arched her back in pain and let more tears fall down her face, wetting the surface. She hated everything about him, what he had done to her, and what he was still doing to her. He had shattered her, ruined her and had taken the one thing she could never get back, her soul.

~~

She was sitting on his bed when he entered his quarters. He knew why she was there and frankly he didn’t really give a fuck anymore. He was tired of her bullshit and tired of the attitude she had with him everever she was in one of her “moods”. The moods that came more than once a month. When he ignored her presence, and simply went to the levitry to take a piss, he could feel her glare on him. He ignored it.

When he had zipped up his trousers he strolled out into his living area; sat down in the plush couch that sat beside the north window. He knew that she would start bickering anytime soon…3…2…1…

“Draco Malfoy!”

Her screech was more than aggravating, it was torture.

“What?” He asked knowing what the “what” probably was.

“Where were you tonight? I thought we had plans to go to Hogsmeade to meet the wedding planner.”

Dammit. He had forgotten about his the fate of his future. Wedding. Marriage. Children with Pansy. Hell on earth.

“I forgot.” He admitted, not really caring at the same time.

“Forgot?” Bitched Pansy. “Draco Malfoy, you better not be “forgetting” many more things in this relationship, or I just might have to go to your “father” and straighten things out with him.”

Draco’s head turned violently from the window to her.

“You wouldn’t?”

“Just watch me.” She said, while getting off his bed and heading for the door. “If you plan on keeping this attitude you have against me, I will have no choice. You have a decision to make Draco Malfoy, whether you bend to my needs or to your fathers.” She gave him one last glance and strode out of his dormitories.

Bitch. He knew that “bending to her needs” was not what he wanted to do, but he really didn’t have a choice. He knew the damage that his father could do, and whether he wanted to be a death eater and whether he wanted to give into what his father wanted, he had no choice. He would be stuck marrying the slut. There was no way out of the predicament that was his life.

~~

“She’s not acting like herself; I don’t care what you think. She’s changed.” Ron spat at Harry during breakfast the next day.

“She’s just busy with her school stuff and maybe b hea head girl has given her more responsibilities then hanging onto your every word.” Harry spat.

“What’s wrong with you?” Ron sat defiantly, looking at Harry like he had just ate some cow dung.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well apparently you do, if not, you need to talk about it.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Yes it is.”

“No it’s not and stop badgering me.”

Ron looked at his friend and could tell that he wanted to talk about it.

“But, that’s what friends are for. For badgering.” Ron said with a smirk.

Harry looked over at his friend and saw the mischievous grin, one he had seen on more than one occasion.

“Fine!” Harry said, not meaning to sound intrusive. “I just had a really bad fight with Ginny last night. She can be so annoying some times.”

“You had a fight with my sister?” Ron asked.

“Oh sod off Ron, that big brother act failed a long time ago, don’t try and start it up again.”

Ron looked beaten. “Yeah..Okay…well what was it about?”

“Gah..she can be so controlling.”

“So she’s annoying and controlling?” Ron asked with a smirk. “Man…that’s what you call a woman.”

They both laughed.

“Oh shut up” came a voice next to Ron. It was Pavarti Patil.

“Oh sff.”ff.” Ron spat.

The Gryffindor walked away scoffing.

Ron then looked at Harry who had an annoyed glance.

“What?”

“And you wonder why you only have one night stands.”

Ron smirked again and listened to the rest of Harry’s relationship problems.

Hermione Granger watched, listened, and smiled at her friends. She liked watching them when they didn’t know it. They were funny, and she loved them. She wanted to tell them of what had happened to her, she wanted to confess everything, but she knew that she couldn’t do that. Her life and the life of her family and friends would be in danger. And she would never let anyone or anything hurt them. Never.

Getting up that morning had been the hardest thing she had ever done. The damage done, she got dressed and headed to the Great Hall, broken. But, she had responsibilities. She wasn’t going to let him ruin her. She had made a vow to herself. Whatever he thought he had done, or achieved, was a fantasy. She was still walking and still able to show him her vengeance. And he would be seeing her vengeance, which in definably was a fact.

~~

He looked around his circular office and studied the walls as he thought. His valuables hung by the windows and sat along desks and tables. His office was the sanctuary in which he came to concentrate and where he came to disappear from the world he had come to know and worship. Black curtains hung from the windows, giving little light into the restful sanctuary. The only light that did grace the room ran a tiny strip along the carpeted floor.

He sat in darkness, darkness that was his life. And he enjoyed the entropy of the secluded. His chair swayed forwards and backwards as his sparkling eyes glimmered. A cat in the midst, this was his life. He crossed his hands over his chest and thought long and hard about the assignment ahead and what he had to do.

He had no problems with the job, that wasn’t what he was worried about. He was actually looking forward to the months ahead, no…it was her, and she was the one standing in his way. She longed for compassion and she loved and would protect the fruit of her loins. It made him sick. But, he was married to her, and without any doubt, she would find out of his plans. She always did. There was no mistake about that.

Their views had never been the same, not since they had married, not by choice of course. His Grandfather forbade him to have any other wife, and so his life foretold, he had married, spawned and became a wealthy human being. It didn’t mean, he had to like her, or choose to sleep in the same room with her. She was just there, a presence of un-requested feelings.

His long fingers fell into fists as he thought about his other half, a woman in which he despised. But, he couldn’t think of her at the moment. No…she was the least of his worries. He would knock her down, finish the job he was asked to do and ignore the implications of his actions. He uncrossed his legs, brought himself to a standstill-letting his robes fall around him, while he watched a picture of his son on a nearby wall.

As noble as his son was to the family, he had doubts, serious doubts of where his loyalties lye. His son had been distant and distracted. He knew it had to do with a specific Gryffindor and although, he despised the plan, he knew it was the only way. Those were the orders and he would abide them.

He swiftly turned around to see the letter he had been reading; the letter, requested that the plan go into action immediately. Lucius Malfoy understood and so he followed. He knew that if everything went as planned, he would receive more than just a pat on the back. Oh yes, he would receive more than he could possibly imagine.

He looked back at the moving picture of his son, and repeated softly. “You will bring Granger to me, dear boy. She will be mine. She will be mine”

****************************
The burning sensation still stung him in his lower region. He could still feel her body on his lips; he was having a hard time controlling himself. She looked so damn good in that body and skirt of hers, that he could feel his pants pulsing. The way her hips were moving and how she was talking to her friends, while flipping her hair, it drove him wild.

“Fucking A” he said allowed.

“Wha?” Goyle said looking around for Potter and Weasley.

“Uh..nothing,” Draco said taken aback. Quite embarrassed from the feeling he was having, while standing next to Goyle, he moved the nearest wall and glided to the floor, ignoring Hagrid while he talked aimlessly about hinky punks.

He hated thinking about her this way. Why was she affecting him this way? For fucking sake, he had raped her last night. Something he had never done before. He knew that it was wrong, but he couldn’t control himself. He might have been evil, but he wasn’t his father. He just couldn’t stop himself. He tried to convince himself, that, that in fact was the reason, but he knew better. She had affected him, more than any women had ever before. He thought about her during the day, during his lunch breaks, god…even when he was shagging Pansy. This morning seeing her stand by the entrance to the Great Hall, just looking at her friends, made him want to slam her against the far wall and fuck her living brains out. But alas, he was stuck sitting next to Pansy. So, in order to get his stick of brick to fall back down, he looked at Pansy for awhile. It always worked.

Once class was over, he walked annoyingly to his next lesson, not looking back at her. He couldn’t stand the agonizing pain. Because, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to control himself. Still unable to think of anything but her, he decided to ditch the lesson and head down to his dormitory to spank his tank; at least he still had that going for him.


~~

She watched the rain trickle outside her bedroom window and watched as the lightning stuck down onto a tree beyond. She glided her fingers along the cold plated glass, while she felt the loneliness of the desperation. She missed her friends. More than she knew. She had just seen them, but felt farther away from them, than she had ever before. There was a gap between what they once had and what she was feeling now.

She knew why she felt this way; there was no question in that. She was being dishonest with them, something she had never done before and it was killing her. Scraping the need off her soul and she hated herself for it. She hated the fact that she had to lie to her friends every time she saw them, every time they asked her “is everything okay”.

She could tell that they knew things were troubling her, because of the way she would respond back with a “yes.” It was absurd. She was in a prison with no bars to hold onto for support. She had changed. And those around her knew it. She didn’t hang out with her Gryffindor girls anymore, nor did she long to. She kept her distance from those who cared deeply for her. She didn’t want to hurt or cause them pain. And yet, that wasn’t the pain she had been feeling these past months.

It had been two months since Malfoy had raped her and it had put her in a state of unevenness and filled her with questions she knew not the answers to. She had kept her distance from him as well. Draco didn’t like this of course, because he would sneer every time he looked at her –not like this was different from the past, but there was a sense of wanting that she got off from it. A sense that he wanted her, but didn’t know how to express his anger any other way.

She blew his reactions away and focused on her schooling, something that always gave her peace and understanding. Something that was always stalagmite and secure. But there were things that school couldn’t even please. Feelings and emotions that just couldn’t be fulfilled by reading a book.

She was wanting something else. Something that she didn’t know how to control, it begged for her, it pleased. These feelings had erupted out of her like a volcano. The night after she had been with him, the feelings had started, slowly, but surely.

Sure, the night hadn’t been romantic, but that wasn’t it. It wasn’t the romance or love. Romance or love, were things you felt for someone that you would give your whole soul and life to. She didn’t feel about Draco in this way, at least she didn’t think that’s what it was. It was the extreme sexual nature he presented off. It was lust and wanton. It was the passion; the bitter passion that entrapped her every time she saw him with that Pansy girl-every time he touched the girls’ lower back or the way his hands rolled over the other Pansy’s shoulders.

She just couldn’t help herself. She caught herself daily, staring at him in double potions and always had to remind herself that it was just a phase and that he was the enemy. But, she would find herself, the next day…looking…looking in places that she ought not to look. And whenever he would catch her looking at his lower being, she could sense the power and bittersweet fantasy over take her.

~~

He was ignoring the feelings this morning. They started around eight in the morning and continued until he fell asleep. The nights involved him making out with Pansy and although there was sex, he didn’t feel anything. That was until he woke up in a sweaty bed, thinking of her and his memories of that night. The night things had changed for him.

He wanted her again. But he wanted her to commit. Raping her felt good. It made him feel powerful, but it didn’t please all of his needs. All of his wants. He hated the fact that she had kept her pace and always made sure not to hang around too long when he was in the same room. He knew that the last time she had done that, she had found out a surprise was waiting for her.

Hermione had changed that, she changed the rules on him. He knew that it was killing her though. He could feel the pain that she was trying to ignore. Feeling the lust will make anyone want just one more splash of solace. So, why was she keeping her distance?

He wasn’t stupid and he knew that she watched him regularly. She had caught her staring on more than one occasion, it didn’t surprise him though, it only made him question what was holding her back.

He wanted to slam her against a wall and prove to her, that she wanted it; that when he would place himself inside her that she didn’t want anything but. He wanted to do these things, but he knew that there was no way he would be able to get her alone. She may have not been with her friends as of late, but she was never to be roaming around like she used to be. He suspected that she spent most of her time in her room, instead of the corridors.
There had to be a way to get to her. There had to be something he could do. He didn’t have time to think about that now. He needed to get to breakfast and deal with his bride to be. The bitch. He was so sick of her. She was getting worse. The wedding plans had already started and he could already see his future being played out for him. Like a good little slytherin boy, he followed her rules and what would happen to him in May. She was horrible, she was naggier than she had ever been and persisted on blabbing to him at the Slytherin table every time he sat down.

“So what do you want the table clothes to look like, and what kind of fabric?”

“I think we should have the Weird Sisters for our music”

“Is your mother going to be home this weekend, I think we need to discus the bride’s maid dresses”

“And when are you going to get your tux? You better get on that, I don’t know what I’ll do if you don’t get off your ass and get that done.”

“Why are you not helping me with this wedding? This is important”

AHHH…god woman, he hated the agony. He hated that her voice would ring in his ear and he wouldn’t hear anything all day, besides the voice of her bickering and the reminder of seeing her later that day.

He solemnly dressed himself in his Slytherin robes, smoothed his fingers through his blond hair, and headed outthe the door. He passed the sleeping serpent and headed to the Great Hall, wondering what the topic of discussion would be coming out of her mouth this morning.

~~

By the afternoon she had already looked at him twice and had refused to do it again. She concentrated on the potion she was supposed to be preparing and wondered if dragon’s blood could get any more interesting. She had to prepare a memory loss potion and even though her mind was trying to concentrate on making the difficult potion, her body wanted to be next to the blond across the room. She could hear him laughing with his friends and noticed that he was no longer sitting next to Goyle but to Pansy.

Jealousy sprung and she couldn’t help herself. She looked. The girl was hanging all over him, attaching herself like a magnet. Did her waist really need to be next to his in that way? And why was her leg around him like that? He wasn’t going to run away, he wasn’t ca.
.

She stopped herself. Why in the world was she acting like this? Why did she even care what he did with Slytherin girls, and why did it bother her that his girlfriend flirted with him or placed herself on him. It’s not like she cared. At least she would tell herself that.

She had to get passed the feelings, but the sexual tension was rising in her chest like hol holocaust. The tick that wouldn’t go away was causing her nerves to combust. She had to think of ways to get this feeling to go away without actually pleasing the feelings. So sleeping with him was out of the question. Maybe she could find a guy and play with him for awhile. But that thought stopped quickly before it even had started. She couldn’t do that. She would just have to think of other things, she’d have to keep her mind off of him. She had to stop looking at him and the way he played with Pansy’s hair.

Hermione tried to ignore the feelings, she sighed as she watched her potion sizzle.

“Apparently they are getting married.” Hermione heard someone from behind her say.

She turned around to see Maranda Loury-a Ravenclaw talking to a fellow friend. Hermione smiled when they looked at her, and then turned around to let them finish their conversation.

“Well I heard that he’s not too pleased about getting married. Samantha Mathews told me that Malfoy has been thinking absomesomeone else just as much.”

“Really? Who?”

“She didn’t know, but he knows its not Pansy. Everyone knows that when he’s with her that he cringes”

“Cringes?”

“Yeah,” said the girl with a laugh. “Well whoever this other girl is, she sure has him in a tangle”

Hermione bent her head to the left to hear more of their conversation, but Professor Snape had called attention to the class and asked everyone to turn in their assignments. Overwhelmed, Hermione collected her things, handed her forgetful potion in and walked wistfully out the door, trying desperately not to look behind her.

~~

By the time she reached the corridor to Transfiguration she could feel his presence way before he had presented himself to her. The smell of cologne and aftershave brought out a distinct smell in men that always made it clear that they were on the prowl. Like a dog in heat one might say. Whether he was actually feeling these hormonal distinctions was probably another story though. Draco was a boy turned man-who believed in getting what he wanted, whether it being women or objects, whatever the cost. Unfortunately, Hermione was that cost. She knew that there would only be too long before he would come searching for her again. She’d try to steer clear of him these past few months, but because of her inhibitions and feelings, she had decided to not tag along with a big group. Easy catch might say, while others suggested lack of intelligence.

Did she want to get caught? Why? Well she knew why, there wasn’t a question as to why she wanted to be caught and what she wanted him to do to her. She had her own prerogative and perception about how the interrogation and capture would go. Her plan-that was how things were going to go. But then, that hadn’t worked out for her that well last time she had made special arrangements for her and Draco. Hormones…just keep telling yourself that.

Hormones...that was bullshit. It wasn’t hormones it was a gut instinct to have sex with the slytherin boy. It was the no strings attached, night of passion; dog eat dog, four on the floor, hair pulling against the wall kind of sex; something that she thought of regularly. She didn’t want a missionary partner; she didn’t want someone like Harry. She assumed that’s what he did in his sexual escapades with Ginny, which was disturbing all together. She was getting out of control, even in her day dreams and just by a touch?

He glided his hand along her shoulder and turned her around. Noticing that they were the only ones in the corridor left to care, he swung her around to see him. Her face was as he had seen it in the Dungeons, tight jawed, hair raggedy as he had ever seen it, and a malice glare coming from her eyes. “Get up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?”

“No, I just saw your face in first block”

“Well its not one you have to see, all I’ll have to do is just do it from the back. You like that way…right Granger.”

She slapped him in the face-although not denying what he had said.

“You’re despicable”

“Yeah, probably…but the looks cover up for that part of it.”

“Let go of me…I’m going to be late for class.”

“Is that all you care about, bloody school work. I know perfectly well that you’d like to do something else…more interesting.” His low drawl and eyes moving downward her body like a boy in a candy store.

“Oh sod off. I-I don’t want that, at least not with you,” she said lying.

“I would have to detest to that one,” he said, moving his hands down the front of her shirt. He watched her expressions as both of his hands wrapped around her neck into a v-line.

Just his touch was intoxicating and the fact that she wanted his hands to go a little bit farther downward didn’t surprise her. She stopped talking and looked into his face-his mouth curving into a smile. She didn’t stop him or move away from him, she just watched.

He kept his eyes on hers, while he felt the beating heart from her chest. He continued to move his hands farther down her chest while his fingers kneaded into her body. He slowly softened the needed tension along her chest, while his fingers scrunched downward to the prize of his desire. Her head spun in its place as her eyes drooped in pleasure. He watched her head move in circles and slump to her shoulder. Taking the chance, he moved backwards and into the wall for support.

Continuing to drive her inner inhibitions wild, Draco placed her against the wall and hid them away from any prying eyes. Covered by his clock and back, he moved down her chest, slowly inching his hands in places he had only been once. Hermione’s eyes flickered in pleasure as she felt his hands do the work she had been wanting. She felt as his fingers placed over her nipples and how they teased and prodded making them hard and succumbing to the temptation.

Leaving one hand there, he lifted her shirt up with the other, moved his fingers underneath her brazier. He played with her mounds, teasing and twisting her, causing Hermione to moan into the air. Draco took the opportunity and softened her moans with his mouth-pushed her hard against the wall, while moving his tongue with hers. Hermione placed her hands around the back of his head, which gave Draco more pleasure than he thought he could accumulate.

Their heated passion would have lasted longer, but hearing footsteps, Draco realized that they were still in the corridor and that anyone would see them making out profusely. Draco stepped away from her and seeing that her hair was in a bigger mess than it was before, roughed his hands around her hair. Giving her a pleased look, and a wink, he then slowly walked off in the other direction unnoticed.

This didn’t help her at all, trying to comprehend what had just happened and gather some perspective and class without looking like she just had the best make out session ever, she smoothed her skirt, collected her bag and walked swiftly in the direction Malfoy had gone.

~~

Ten minutes later Hermione sat down next to Ron and Hermione who were listening to Professor McGonagall. Ron and Harry gave her a glorified ‘where the hell where you look’ as she sat down. Hermione ignored their looks of transgression as she took out her supplies and tried to gain some composure of what had happened in the corridor.

Harry tried to listen to what they were doing, but couldn’t help but notice how red Hermione’s face was and how shaken she looked. He wondered if she was having a cold and that’s why she was late, but something told him that it was more in depth than a seasonal head cold. He tried not to worry about it too much, after all she could take care of herself, he needed to stop being too clingy. Ron however, didn’t think that.

After they had their assignments, Ron looked over at Hermione and gave her another look of annoyance. “Where were you?” It didn’t seem like a question to Hermione, more of an accusation.

“What do you mean?” Hermione said, trying to think nothing of it.

“You were ten minutes late and I don’t see a time turner around your neck.”

“Goodness Ron, do I need to ask you permission to go to the lou?”

Ron’s face turned red. “No…I just...”

“Wanted to be nosy and bosy” Hermione interrupted. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to go over here, where I wont be harrased where I am twenty four hours of the day,” she said and got up to go sit by Pavarti Patil.

After she got up, Harry smacked Ron upside the head.

“What?”

“What do you mean “what” I swear if you weren’t my friend…” Harry was about to say something to Ron’s immaturity, but decided against it. He really loved his friend but sometimes he could be a real idiot.

By the time class was over, Hermione had finished the lesson and a bit of reading, something she hardly had time to do anymore. Since becoming Head Girl she hardly had any time to do anything that involved personal tasks.

That reminded her. She had a meeting tonight with the Head Boy who just ended up to be Draco and Professor McGonagall. She didn’t want to deal with that. Especially after what had happened earlier. Would he be professional about it? Probably, but she still had her speculations. She still didn’t know what the kiss and the fondling meant and didn’t know if she wanted to wait to find out.

Draco watched her leave with a couple of friends and had to keep his mind focused as he watched her leave. His mind on different things that involved her, gave him something to lean on until he could actually act on them-things that he would just have to wait for. He smiled when he realized that it was Wednesday and that it was their monthly Head of House meeting with McGonagall. It was perfect. The perfect opportunity to take advantage. He had a plan. He just had to wait until tonight to relive it.

~~

Lucius Malfoy signed the last set of parchment, placed his quill on the desk in front of him and circled his chair around to face a nearby window. Outside he could see that his house elves and land workers were busily tending the yard below. Working steadily, they labored the yard, fed the animals and fixed any hexes that might have been malfunctioning. Lucius loved his mansion and everything that surrounded it. He prided himself in how knowledgeable he had been when building the edifice. He was a brilliant man and knew it. When he had finally married Narcissus, his plans for a mansion came into play. Unlike his childhood, he wanted something better for his kids. He wanted a masterpiece-a place that would shudder and stun. He didn’t care that his kids would have more than he did, only that he wanted to be better than the rest. anteanted to stick out and intimidate, as was the story of his life. Malfoy was the word that came to mind when contemplating what others thought of him and his kin. Malfoy was the terror on the back of your neck; Malfoy was the feeling of being watched and Malfoy were the bad dreams that terrorized in the middle of the night. Lucius laughed at this, he loved being feared and loved tormenting those feelings of uneasiness.

After the Dark Lord disappeared from site and memory, Malfoy was the only word witches and wizards spoke that reminded them of a Death Eater. Yes, it was true that the Malfoy name and himself had been cleared of all affiliation with a Death Eater, but that uneasiness still wrapped around the minds of young women and children-this giving him his edge and evilness. When the Dark Lord came back to power, the feeling had still enwrapped those, but since “he who must not be named” was at large, the feeling had dwindled and subsided among few who really knew Lucius’ wrath.

This had despised him and even though he was not out of Azkaban for the second time in his life, he was still trying to recapture his glory days, the fearfulness and gain back that ‘Malfoy feeling’. It had been a year since he had been released and yet, others still felt that the Dark Lord was the king of all fears. Lucius laughed to himself again. He was the darkness, why couldn’t others see that?

Whether he had to admit it or not, Voldemort was still the lord of all sorcery and Lucius would obey him because of it, but how was he to move up in the world with Voldemort always a step ahead. Lucius was caught in between greatness and glory; overcoming and challenging the medium class that would only result in Voldemorts downfall. Even though this would relinquish his role back to seniority, this was something Lucius was not committed to achieving.

Pretending that these thoughts had never occurred, Lucius grabbed the parchment off of his desk, placed them in a folder, sealed the top, then placed his dark mark to the tip. The folder lit up in an emerald smoke, then evaporated into a thin tinsel shaped string. As the string fell out of the window, Lucius tried to gain his composure from his thoughts.

Over the past few weeks, his mind had been preoccupied in the task at hand. His son. This was somewhat of a task that made him feel uneasy and troubled. The thought of Draco and the mudblood brought his veins to ice over, mainly because he despised the image that it brought and refused to let anything mudblood or muggle stand in the way of how important the project portrayed. He might have not enjoyed what it would do to his only heir, but it was the aftermath and the result of everything combined. The solution was the only reason he had agreed to the experiment in the first place and rather than choose an alternate route, he placed his son on the defensive and put the Malfoy name on the line-something he rarely chose to do. The plan was in set and without his sons’ knowledge he was already working for the dark side. Choosing which side he would actually fight for was never a mystery and Lucius always knew where Draco’s loyalties laid. He would become a Death Eater just as he had and be married within a year. It was the perfect ending to a noble beginning.

Lucius sighed with a menacing gleam in his eye. Placing his hands over his chest he wondered how great of a father he had become and how noble he was to do so many great things for his family. When the silent gloating had ended, he shot out of his chair, smoothed his blond locks, brought his cloak around him like a shield and headed down for lunch, hoping that the bitch had stayed off her ass long enough to have something prepared.

~~

The Halloween feast proved to be excellent as usual, with glorious turkey, mashed potatoes, corn on the cob along with delicious pumpkin pie. The pumpkin juice gave Hermione a tingle of happiness. She loved the Halloween feast more than any other meal that the Hogwarts house elves provided. It was the most tasty and enjoyable. She also loved the atmosphere on the night of tacky Lockhart costumes and cheesy toy labyrinths-the popular wizard games of trapping toy Malfoys or toy Potters-depending your house. Laughs and glee spread through the corridors. Orange sparklers were seen from the Quidditch field.

Hermione suspected it was either Harry and Ron or someone from the Ravenclaw team. It was an annual gathering of male testosterone to shine bright lights into mid air and declare to the world that they were important. Hermione laugat tat the site and couldn’t imagine doing something like that with any of her female friends. The male feature was still a question when it came to their habits and reasons for doing things.

The common room was just as noisy, filled with noise poppers and exploding snap. Harry and Ron were sitting by the fire eating some type of tangy sweet that caused the mouth to enlarge twenty times over. Hermione laughed when she saw Ron’s tongue grow as large as his left arm. The sweurelurely was an entertaining one to say the least. But there was no way in hell that Hermione was going to ever try one. Nothing that made her mouth grow larger than normal never felt appealing.

Pavarti Patil and some other fellow Gryffindors were all reading the newest addition of ‘Witch Weekly’ each laughing when they found out something funny. ‘Witch Weekly’ wasn’t a magazine intended to be humorous, but when you had the female psyche reading articles about the stupid things men did, they found it worth spitting saliva into the mid air. Hermione smiled at her fellow peers and decided that the excitement was way too much for her. She had enjoyed her fun for the night. She was about to head to bed when there was a tap on her shoulder. Hermione turned around to see Mark Speerslingling back at her. The greedy Hogwarts newsletter writer who would do anything for a lead was staring at her like she was a fresh crop of evidence. Hermione despised the guy, more than she should-since he was a Gryffindor.

“Hermy!”

Hermione looked at him like a piece of cow dung; lips pierced.

“Yes” she said, her teeth grinding together as she spoke.

“How’s it going honey dear, can I get you something to drink?” His eye blinked ferociously, while he asked her.

Hermione glared. “I’m fine, I don’t need a drink, and what do you want?”

“Oh calm down Granger, don’t get your panties in a twist. It’s not that time of the month is it?”

“Why you…” Hermione’s anger rising, she held out her hand.

“Oh okay…peace.” He said standing back out of range.

Hermione lowered her hand and was going to step side the boy when he grabbed her shoulder.

“The only reason I stopped you, was because I was sent in to ask you a question.”

“What question is that?”

“Just some guy wants you to meet you out there.”

Butterfly’s creped up.

Hermione’s face was blank as a clear sheet of parchment. “Very well, would you be as to kind as to let go of my arm?”

“Oh…yeah…sorry. Oh and hey, if you ever want to pose for the Hogwarts Daily...”

“Don’t thi think about it.” Hermione said without turning around.

When she reached the entrance to the Gryffindor common room, Draco Malfoy was leaning on a nearby pillar looking smug as ever.

~~

The gleam in his eye meant destruction, mayhem and victory. His way of getting under her skin and proving that he could get to her if needed be. She didn’t know how he found out where the Gryffindor common room was and didn’t want to know. His stance gave her the impression exactly how arrogant he really was. The way his mouth perked to the side as if winning a victory and how each and every time he seemed to get his way.

Hermione sighed, walked over to him and placed her hands on her hips. She looked at him with malice and hate. She still despised him, whether he could please her like no other man before. She hated his cockiness, she hated the way he used women and abused them. But besides those major flaws, she couldn’t keep her hands away. She still felt drawn to him and felt that his touch could heal the loneliness she was feeling. Because of this, she walked over to him. Standing still, with her arms at her sides she spoke.

“What do you want?”

“Just to talk”

“Talk”

“Yes, its when two or more people use their mouths to communicate”

“True, but you are a Malfoy and a Malfoy always has an alternate motive.”

“Got me there. As a matter of fact, I have a solution for the problems I…we have been having.”

“Really, I didn’t realize I had a problem”

“Granger, you could sense it a mile away. You’re a time bomb about to explode.”

“And your there to defuse me?”

“Was planning on it.”

“Good night Malfoy” Hermione said, then turned around and headed back to the common room.

Malfoy placed his hand on her shoulder and turned her around. He then grabbed her lower back with his other hand and pushed her to him. Holding her tightly, he covered his face to her and kissed her forcefully and a scent of passion. Their tongues locked as a shock of ecstasy swept through Hermione. She could feel their heart beats beating as one as his mouth covered hers in a fiery storm of possessiveness. Lips gliding against others circling the other, power became no obstacle. The heat in their vicinity rose in measures. Hermione could feel sweat gliding down her arms as he held her tightly; stuck to his chest she placed her arms upon it. His shirt being to much between them, she moved the fabric upward with her fingers, inching the material over his head.
Draco stopped her before it was too late and as his lower being squelched to be released, he grabbed her hand, let go of the strawberry lips he had tasted, took her hand and glided her down to another corridor. Moving quickly between levels of corridors and rooms he made a stop.

“Where are we?” She asked breathlessly.

“Let’s just say no one will find us”

When they reached the room it was filled with dozens of hanging candles. There was nothing in the room, but the candles and Hermione suspected that this was the room he took all the girls.

“It’s a place I like to go, to get away.”

She didn’t get a chance to respond to his comment, because he had flung himself on her like a wild dog in heat. She responded quite nicely, by grabbing his shoulders and placing her body next to his. Her head against a wall, he grabbed her behind and pushed her up towards his region of expertise. Pulling his robes apart, Hermione glared at the wonder that was his chest. His abs tightly stung like a babies bonnet, she touched him slightly, aroused and seeing for the first time how unbelievably sexy he was. Her robes coming off by Draco’s teeth, Hermione could feel his mouth on her breasts and he sucked and licked her nipples.

She moaned when he placed his hot mouth over them and raised her hips as he licked them harder with much more force and determination. As he licked her supple mounds, he moved his hands down to her inner being where he could feel heat rising. He slid down her under garments, brought his hands slowly to the entrance. He moved his fingers around her softly giving Hermione a small tingle. Smiling because of this, he continued to kiss her roughly along the mouth. He then moved to her neck tasting the pleasure he had longed for. Continuing to tease her in her lower region, he made his entrance complete. He glided his fingers in and out of her, the groaning continued as pleasure peaked.

Draco’s charging mountain couldn’t withstand the heat and authority she had over him in this moment. Her screams of gratification gave him a feeling he never thought he could hear from any women. The tight embrace, the warped time that kept him entranced was overbearing. He pushed himself closer to her, and grabbing her hips once more. He slid her onto him. The overwhelming feeling of entrapment and exhaling release gave him fulfillment. She was the ending to all of the suffering. Her body filled around him, the bitterness subsiding. He grabbed her hips and moved her up and downward, living every waking moment.

She had never felt so much feeling in one movement in her life. The aching need to want more, but for some reason was getting everything. The want and supremacy she couldn’t control was exhausting. The sensation in her lower abdomen was like nothing she had ever experienced. Sure, she had, had sex with him before…but this was different. It was more satisfying. She glided with him, wind and rain crashing together. They were their own storm. The fury entrapped the both of them. Was it fate? Where they meant to be together in this way? She didn’t know- all she knew was that the feeling of him inside her and the smoldering craving was more than she could ever imagine. She was being rewarded and it was all she could really take in.

Minutes passed on, sweat poured down them, screams subsided beyond the walls and there was obsession beyond their desired control. Tangled in their own web of hatred this was where they became one, controlling each other with their bodies. When he came, it was an explosion of a final conclusion to the passion that rang in their hearts. As it ended, they both feel flatly onto the floor overpowered and beaten by their own yearning.