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Too Many Questions, Not Enough Answers

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Ahh, I had an idea for a Dramione fic, so I'm rambling out this prologue now. This was on FanFiction before this came up and still is, but I forgot to put it on this site XD so here it is!

"Draco…you have displeased me greatly." A thin hissing noise came from Voldemort, his tongue flicking in and out of his mouth, red eyes fixated on the soon-to-be-adult Draco Malfoy.

"Yes, my Lord," Draco muttered, eyes trained on his shoes. The sooner he could get away from Lord Fucking Voldemort, the better. He shared the Dark Lord's beliefs and ideals, but hated the Dark Lord himself.

"Dumbledore was weak and pathetic," Voldemort continued. "And yet, you could not kill him. Tell me, why did Severus have to kill the doddery old fool?"

Draco stole a quick glance towards Severus Snape, Potions Master, Death Eater, and currently the favorite of Voldemort. The only things that the slimy bastard is good at are potions and kissing Voldemort's ass. "I…I do not know, my Lord," he whispered.

He could almost feel Voldemort's furious glare burn into his back. "Very well," the Dark Lord spat. "Crucio!"

All Draco could do was scream and yell himself hoarse, pain soaring through his body, from the tips of his fingers to his heart to his bones. "Stop," he gasped, vision starting to blur, back attempting to bend in impossible directions…

"Corban, Alecto, take him down to the dungeons." Voldemort released the curse and Draco collapsed, fighting the urge to vomit. "Until you have a chance to redeem yourself…I will not see your pitiful face again," Voldemort spat.

Bellatrix pressed her pouty lips together before smirking at the Dark Lord. Draco fought the urge to scream in sheer frustration and pain. What the bloody hell does Bellatrix think she's doing? He looked up towards his mother and father. His father was stone-faced like usual – stone-hearted asshole – but his mother's blue eyes flashed worriedly. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but then closed it again as Corban Yaxley and Alecto Carrow roughly grabbed his arms and took him down the steps towards the dungeons.

Yaxley opened the first dungeon and leered at Draco. "Ready for you, Sir," he taunted. "Shove him in, Alecto." Alecto threw Draco in so that the teen boy was thrown onto the ground hard.

Draco stood up slowly. He would not let these cruel pigs get beneath his skin. "Maybe you need to try harder, Corban," he retorted, using the man's first name in a show of disrespect.

Yaxley made as if to lunge for Draco but Alecto held him back, grabbing the man's arm. "He's not worth the trouble," she spat. "The Dark Lord will be most displeased if he finds you brawling with a boy like Muggles."

Yaxley spat and slammed the dungeon door shut, the clangs echoing across the empty halls. He locked it with a skeleton shaped key. "Hope you find your disrespect for the Dark Lord worth your time here in these dungeons."

Once both Death Eaters had gone back upstairs, Draco let himself fall against the wall, clutching the hard, rough bricks for support. Trembling, he lifted the hem of his pants upwards to look at his shin. The scent of blood wafted into his nose. His hands went pale as he saw a long, deep gash that wouldn't heal unless medical attention was given. He unconsciously reached into the inner pocket of his coat for his wand, but it was gone. "Dammit," he muttered. "Damn those dirty fuckers."

Slumping back against the wall, he knew that there was no escape from this wretched place. The Dark Lord never gave mercy. He sighed and took off his coat, folding it to make a small pillow for him to sleep on. There was nothing he could do now except wait…

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Yes, the title of this chapter is exactly what's going to happen, just a head's up! Enjoy!

Hermione pulled the Gryffindor red covers off her body and stepped onto the soft carpet, stretching and yawning. She pulled the curtains of her room open, letting the morning sunlight enter the room, and changed into her Muggle clothing: a pair of comfortable jeans, plain white T-shirt, and dark gray hoodie.

Her mother gently opened the door. "Hermione, are you up yet?" Emma Granger called softly. "Breakfast is ready."

"I'll be down in two minutes, Mum," Hermione answered. Her mother nodded and closed the door.

Instantly, Hermione grabbed her wand. She could sense something wrong and ran to her window. Two dark shapes were flying towards her house. With a wave of her wand, all her belongings were packed in a small bag with an Extendable Charm placed on it. She grabbed the bag and ran downstairs. "Mum, Dad?"

Tom Granger looked up from his newspaper. "Yes, darling?"

"I…I think Death Eaters are flying towards the house," Hermione gasped, her heart starting to race. Her mother raced next to her husband, hands covering her mouth as Hermione continued. "They're most likely trying to capture me. We don't have any time. Do you have those bags that you packed in case of an event like this?"

The doorbell suddenly rang. Tom Granger got up as if to answer the door, but his daughter yanked him back into his seat. "Don't. Those are the Death Eaters. They'll kill you the moment they see you."

"Excuse me, is this the house of the Grangers?" It was clearly Amycus' voice. Insistent knocking rang throughout the house.

"It's a Death Eater," Hermione whispered. "Mum, Dad, silently grab your bags and–"

"Reducto!" The door was blasted open. Three Death Eaters ran into the house, wands drawn. Emma Granger let out a shrill scream as the creepily masked figures with wands drawn started to advance on the Grangers.

"Run!" Hermione yelled, grabbing her mother and father.

"Avada Kedavra!" Bellatrix's cackle of delight couldn't have been any worse to Hermione. She yanked her mother and father up the stairs towards the attic, all three narrowly missing the blast of green light. "Avada–"

"Stupefy!" Hermione drew her wand and blasted Bellatrix back, but the maniacal witch dodged it, muttering a spell.

Too late, she saw the dreadful green light coming towards her mother. Too late, she yanked her mother back. The dread green light bathed her mother's body and Emma Granger screamed once before falling limply into Hermione's arms.

"Emma!" Tom cried, rushing to hug his wife, who didn't respond. "Emma?"

"Protego Maxima," Hermione said, casting a powerful protection spell over her family. Tom was cradling Emma in his arms, tears running down his cheeks.

Hermione had never seen her father cry before, and it broke her heart.

"Emma…" Tom whispered. "Emma, come back…"

"Dad…Dad, Mum's dead," Hermione sobbed, tears starting to run down her eyes too. The Death Eaters had them surrounded, and there was no escape now. They had lost time by grieving for their beloved family member. "Dad…"

"Drop the protection now, Mudblood, or we'll kill you." It was Dolohov, and he removed his mask with a flourish, leering down at her. "Remember me from the Department of Mysteries, Mudblood?"

Hermione instead increased the protection charm, much to Dolohov's displeasure. "Dad…they're going to kill us."

"I'll be with Emma," her father replied. "I have no fear. It's okay, Hermione. We'll be together. Drop the protection." A fresh burst of tears rose to Hermione's eyes and she reluctantly removed the charm.

Bellatrix cackled. "Oh, the Mudblood is more stupid than I thought! Brightest witch of the age, hmm? You just sent your father to his death!"

"Then let me join him!" Hermione cried fiercely. "Send me with him to death!"

"No, we've got other ideas for you." Amycus leaned over her and caught her arm in a harsh grip with his hand. "Kill the father."

"No!" Hermione howled, stumbling forwards but Dolohov had already cast the curse and her father fell besides her mother. "No! Let me go, you twisted bastards!"

"Foul language, Mudblood," Amycus snarled. "Shut up!" Hermione screamed, tears staining her cheeks as she cried and whimpered. How can it be? Losing my parents in the same day…why?

"We have the girl, now let's get going," Bellatrix said to Dolohov, who opened the refrigerator with interest.

"Don't you dare touch my family's food!" Hermione shrieked, reaching for her wand in her back pocket.

Amycus plucked the wand and handed it to Bellatrix. Bellatrix smirked and with a snap, Hermione's wand was broken in half. Her beautiful wand, gone forever. Hermione had already screamed and cried herself hoarse and couldn't help but tremble with rage and sadness.

"I wouldn't dare touch your filthy food, Mudblood," Dolohov sneered. "I wanted to see what horrible foods you eat." He opened the refrigerator door. Hermione fought back another scream. Her parents had died just now and this twisted Death Eater was going to scold her on her eating habits. "Cream cheese is unhealthy, Mudblood. No butterbeer or whiskey makes a poor meal, you know. And–"

"Dolohov," Bellatrix hissed with impatience.

"Fine, fine," Dolohov muttered sulkily, slamming the door shut so hard that the frying pan on the stove shook. "Let's go."

Amycus roughly jerked Hermione close to his body and the two Disapparated, followed by Bellatrix and Dolohov. Hermione felt sick at the whirling, spinning sensation and nearly fell onto her hands when she landed on the stone floor. "Up, Mudblood." Bellatrix yanked her hood harshly and she gasped for air, stumbling to her feet. "Come on, you're going to see the Dark Lord now."

Amycus pushed open a heavy stone door, and Hermione looked up. The sight that met her eyes was…terrifying. Voldemort sat on a throne, Death Eaters kneeling next to him. Bellatrix immediately bowed down, Amycus and Dolohov following her lead. "Bow, Mudblood," Bellatrix snarled, pushing her to the ground again.

Titters rose from Voldemort and his followers. "Well, well, well. What do we have here? Dearest Bella, what prize have you brought me?" He peered at Hermione, red eyes interested. "Harry Potter's friend, isn't it? The Mudblood? Well done, Bellatrix. Rise, Mudblood."

Amycus yanked her to her feet and she stumbled to the Dark Lord. "What do you want?" he spat.

Voldemort smiled thinly. "Oh, yes, you're not supposed to talk unless spoken to, Mudblood. That calls for punishment. Crucio!"

Hermione screamed as she was hit with the Cruciatus curse for the first time. Her bones were twisted into directions she never felt possible. Her muscles burned with effort. Voldemort released the curse and Hermione collapsed to the ground. "We'll keep you safe, Mudblood. Do not fear of being killed. We plan to use you as…bait for your precious Potter friend. Take her down to the dungeons. Same cell as the other prisoner."

"No!" Hermione cried, but Bellatrix hissed at her and shoved her down the stairs. She tumbled all the way down, knowing she would have bruises all over her body the next morning. Bellatrix inserted her wand into the hole and the door swung open magically. "Stop it!"

"In!" Bellatrix cackled. "I'm sure you'll enjoy…the other prisoner. Have fun, Mudblood." The door swung shut, and Hermione got to her feet.

"Who's there?" A familiar voice echoed across the walls.

Hermione gasped as she realized who it was. The white-blonde hair, pale skin, and striking gray eyes were all so familiar… "Draco?"

Mwahaha, I'm so evil…it's a cliffie! I hate cliffies too though :) Don't worry, I'll post soon! Remember to review and tell me your opinion. Should I continue? Is this story shit? Do you like it? Your opinion will be greatly appreciated.

Chapter Text


Draco Malfoy fought back a gasp as he saw the curly-haired witch stare at him. "What the bloody hell are you doing here?" he asked roughly.

"I…they…" Fresh tears ran down her cheeks, and inwardly, Draco groaned. He didn't need a sobbing lioness sharing a cell with him. "They…they killed my mum and dad…and kidnapped me…"

"Good gods, do you fucking know what you've gotten yourself into?" Draco snapped. "The smartest member of the Golden Trio, prized Miss Goody Two Shoes, has gone missing, and everyone will stop at nothing to find her. You're practically leading them straight to the Dark Lord himself."

"And why do you care so much?" Hermione shot back. "That would mean that you will win the war, Malfoy."

The edge of Draco's mouth quivered. He looked so furious, so angry, that the witch took a small step backwards. "Do you think I want to be here?" he snarled like a wild animal. "Do you think I like any of this shit? I couldn't kill Dumbledore, so that ended me here! I do share the Dark Lord's beliefs–" Here, Hermione flinched. "–but I do not like the way he treats his Death Eaters. It's every man for himself up there. Auntie Bella is acting like a fucking slut to be the favorite of the Dark Lord, but it's not working. Guess who's his favorite now? Severus Fucking Snape!"

"There's no need for such coarse language," Hermione interrupted.

"Who gives a fuck about language when we're here? You don't need to be perfect anymore! It's a life and death situation! Snape is living right now because he's the one who killed Dumbledore when I couldn't," Draco continued angrily. "Sometimes, I give up on my beliefs and ask myself why we can't all live happily ever after. Then I tell myself that I'm acting like a Gryffindor pussy. That will never happen, not today, not anytime soon."

"Stop being so pessimistic," Hermione said critically. "You're not going to help yourself get out of this by cursing and ranting. I'm going to try to get myself out of here by figuring out how to get the door to open."

"Oh, and your logical brain is going to work against layers and layers of dark magic?" Draco retorted. "This isn't school, Granger. This is real life, where there's no mercy, no second shot. You try to disable that thing improperly and the best-case scenario is that you end up with a quick and painless death."

"Shut up, Malfoy," Hermione grumbled, sitting against the dungeon wall, hugging her knees to her chest. "You're right about this not being school. If you're not going to try, I'm going to and I'll get myself out of here."

Draco let out a humorless laugh. "Good luck, Granger. I'd like to see you do it without your wand."

Hermione whipped around to glare at him before realizing he was right. She sighed and resumed her original position against the wall. "Do they bring food?" she asked shortly.

"What do you think they are, demons? Obviously," Draco chuckled darkly.

"They are demons, in my head," Hermione whispered. "They hate me with all their heart, yet I've done nothing to wrong them. They hate me because of who I am, not because of what makes me."

"No difference," Draco snorted. He suddenly snapped his mouth shut as footsteps echoed in the halls. The door opened with a clang, and Lucius Malfoy stepped in. "Father," Draco said coldly.

"Why do you look at me as if you hate me?" Lucius said softly. "You should hate yourself, Draco. After all, you failed the Dark Lord and caused your own demise." His gaze lingered on Hermione. "And who do we have here…the Mudblood, is it? Harry Potter's best friend? You should make good conversation with her, Draco." He brought two silver platters forward with…both teens' mouths started to water. Roast duck, mashed potatoes, fried eggs, and an assortment of vegetables filled both plates, complete with treacle tarts and Yorkshire pudding for dessert. It smelled delicious too. He put the plates on the ground and waved his wand, conjuring two sparkling glasses of warm butterbeer. "Enjoy." He locked the door before heading upstairs.

Hermione and Draco grabbed their plate and their butterbeer. "It looks amazing," Hermione breathed, before grabbing her spoon and shoveling a bite of mashed potatoes into her mouth. It had been no more than a second before she spat it out, gasping for breath and rubbing her throat. "Ugh…"

"What, can't handle fine dining?" Draco smirked before taking his own bite of food. "Ah, delicious. What does yours taste like?"

"Mud," Hermione said, still trying to get the taste out of her mouth. Her eyes fell on the Butterbeer, and she took a gulp before spewing it across the room. "That's disgusting! They are so sick and dirty!"

"Mind your manners, Granger," Draco drawled. "What did your Butterbeer taste like?"

"Blood," Hermione answered, clawing at her throat.

A slow grin spread across Draco's face. "Mud and blood, get it? Mudblood?" He let out a laugh, chuckling as Hermione's face grew darker and darker. "My food tastes fine, thank you very much. I especially like the roast duck."

"Those evil, slimy…" Hermione trailed off as she realized that those evil, slimy, sick, and dirty Death Eaters were trying to make her break, especially after the death of the two people she loved most. She felt the grief roll through her again and picked up the plate. "Come and get the food, you evil scumbags!" she yelled, throwing the plate as hard as she could against the door. It shattered into tiny pieces, food strewn all over the floor. The butterbeer glass soon joined the mess.

Draco looked on as the witch turned away. A lone tear trickled down her cheek as she glared hatefully through the bars. "I can't do this…" she whispered.

"Where's your Gryffindor courage?" Draco taunted.

"SHUT UP!" Hermione screamed at him. "Can't you keep your fat mouth shut for just one minute?"

Give up now, and it'll be all over. An eerie voice echoed in the dungeon.

"Who the hell is that?" Draco demanded.

Give up, Hermione Granger, and you will condemn yourself to no more pain, the voice said. Give up, and you will lose your friends, but do they really matter? You will be with your parents in heaven. Choose your family or your friends, Hermione.

"How about none? How about I just stay here!?" Hermione screamed at the ceiling. "How about I rot and die? How about that?"

You have chosen your friends, Hermione. You will never see your parents again. The voice faded.

"You're wrong! will see my parents again! They hold a place in my heart, and I can see them in my mind!" Hermione yelled, tears running down her cheeks.

"The typical thing a stupid Gryffindor would say," Draco commented.

"I am not stupid!" Hermione curled up against the hard floor, putting her jacket under her head for more comfort. The sounds of Draco chewing and slurping up the food loudly made her blood boil, but she tried her best to shut out the sounds and pretend she was in her Gryffindor jumper, safe at home again.

"Just like where the Mudbloods should be," she heard Draco say. "On the floor with all the filth and slime."

"STFU, Malfoy!" Hermione grumbled.

"What, too scared to use big words?" Draco taunted. "Can't say the f-word? You have to settle for abbreviations in fear that McGonagall's going to expel you?"

"Shut the fuck up!" Hermione screamed. "Shut up!"

The dungeons were silent. Hermione's curses echoed off the walls, and she buried her face in her sweater.

Draco finally broke the silence. "Never thought you had it in you," he said. Hermione thought he could detect the slightest hint of respect. "Thought you were a Gryffindor prude through and through. All the Slytherins knew that shit like not using bad words isn't going to help you last long in the real world. Snape taught it to us, first year. He teaches it to all the first years. He told us to control our emotions until we're alone."

"Well, look where believing in Snape got you and me," Hermione said bitterly. "Shut up and let me get some sleep, Malfoy."

"Father joked about him only teaching to get some young pussy," Draco continued, ignoring her.

"He's a teacher!" Hermione gasped, suddenly catching on to the conversation. "He would never do that."

"And we all thought he would never kill Dumbledore either. Snape's a dodgy person. Did he stick up for me when I was being sent here? No."

"No one in their right mind would stick up for you, you bloody prat," Hermione muttered.

"Yeah, and no one in their right mind would wait for Potter to try to kill Voldemort. He and all the other boys go to Hogwarts for one reason, and one reason only – which, by the way, is not to learn – it's to try to snatch up as much pussy as possible before they leave."

"You're a pig, you know."

"I may be a pig, but I'm an honest pig. Just like you're a Mudblood, but you're an intelligent Mudblood."

Hermione looked at the ground. This was the first time that Draco had complimented her, instead of insulting her. "Stop making me feel awkward," she snapped.

"You're right. I shouldn't compliment you, Mudblood." Draco said. "You're not worthy of it."

Hermione let out a small shriek of outrage and plugged her ears with her fingers. "I'm really going to go to sleep now," she muttered.

When she next woke up, Hermione yawned, stretched, and immediately grimaced. She wasn't used to sleeping on a hard stone floor, and her back ached. She blinked groggily, noticing Draco in the corner using hay as a sort of mattress. "Why didn't I think of that?" she mumbled to herself, getting onto her feet.

"Rise and shine, Hermione." It was a new voice this time, a familiar one.

Hermione turned around to look at the next dungeon over. Her mouth dropped. She knew who he was…

Bwahaha, another cliffie! No one's told me my story's crap yet, so I'm going to continue with it. Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, and leave your opinion in the reviews! :)

Chapter Text

Just a warning: violent rape scene ahead. I’ll warn you right before it happens, so if you don’t like that stuff, skip ahead. Also, this chapter is loooonnnngggggg so enjoy! :)

“Hi, Hermione.” Luna Lovegood smiled as she took off her necklace, laying it down on the stone floor.

“L…Luna? How’d you get here?” Hermione gasped.

“Oh, I was following a Crumple-Horned Snorkack,” Luna replied vaguely. “Then some Death Eaters came. I told them that they were scaring away the great beast. One of them noticed my radish earrings, and I thought that was rather nice of him. They’re for keeping away–” She stopped as a hoarse scream echoed in the room. “You do know who that is, right?”

Hermione shook her head, puzzled. “No, who is it?”

“It’s Draco,” Luna replied.

“But he’s in the corner,” Hermione argued, glancing back towards the hay pile. He wasn’t. His Death Eater Cloak was raised in the shape of Draco Malfoy…which means that someone had come in the night. “Um…who came last night and when?”

“I think it was his father,” Luna said softly. “The poor boy, being tortured by his own father.”

At that moment, Lucius yanked open the door, shoving a bloody, bruised, and battered Draco to the dungeon floor. “Bloody wanker,” he hissed. “The Dark Lord sends his good wishes.”

“Fuck the Dark Lord,” Draco hissed back, crawling into the corner.

Lucius tutted. “I’ll be sure to tell him you said that,” he smirked. The usual slam of the door and clinking as it was locked followed his statement.

“Draco, what happened?” Hermione gasped, cradling his head in her hands. His handsome face was badly damaged. He had a black eye, bruised lip, and there were bloody gashes running down both cheeks. His neatly combed hair was messy and filled with dried blood. His shaking hands revealed deep cuts, and the back of his shirt was torn, showing Hermione crisscrossed wounds. “Oh my gosh…”

“Those wounds are bad,” Luna commented. “Did you see the way he limped in? There’s an infected one in his leg.”

Hermione didn’t doubt the Ravenclaw for a second. She pulled up his pant leg and winced at the pus oozing out of the glaring redness against pale skin. She could either save the boy or let him die and live with the guilt. Oh, come on! It’s Draco bloody Malfoy! The boy that taunted you, made you feel bad, and hated you with all his heart throughout school. Let him die.

“No,” she murmured aloud. “No.” She felt for the inside pocket of her sweater, taking out her bag. Fingers trembling, she took out a fairly large bottle of Essence of Dittany. The bottle had cost her a fine penny. And I’m going to use it on Draco Malfoy? What am I thinking? She removed the stopper and poured it on Draco’s leg wound. Some of the liquid sloshed onto the ground, and she winced. The wound started to heal, closing on its own. She moved him so his back lay on the spilled Dittany and applied generous amounts to the rest of his wounds. Draco groaned. “Oh…that hurts…”

“Shh,” she soothed. “I’m healing you.”

“What the bloody hell, Mudblood?” he muttered. “Why would you do this? I’ve been crap to you your whole life–”

“I’ll stop then,” Hermione whispered angrily. “Ungrateful prat.”

“No, please keep going.” It was the first time she had heard the pureblood say please. A glimmer of some unrecognizable emotion spread throughout her chest.

She put an instant ice pack on his black eye and bandaged his infected leg. “There,” she said quietly. “You’re all set.”

“You should’ve been a mediwitch,” Luna said. “You’ve got a good hand with healing.”

“I’m going to become a Spells Mistress,” Hermione replied quietly. When I can get out of here, of course.

“I’m going to become a Magizoologist,” Luna smiled proudly. “I’ll finally have access to their tracking spells. They think the spells work. But obviously, nothing works better than my charmed necklace. Daddy charmed it for me.”

“That’s nice,” Hermione said as Draco groaned. She rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to be so mean, Malfoy.”

“You don’t have to be so nice,” he muttered. “It’s killing me from the inside out.”

“Bastard,” Hermione growled under her breath. “Where has my kindness gotten you? It’s saved your goddamn life.” As she conversed with him, she realized that it was almost like a normal conversation. Normal conversation with Draco Malfoy…what’s gotten into me?

“Using the nasty cuss words now?” Draco mock-pouted. “Oh no, you’re too mean for me!” He flinched dramatically.

Hermione smiled at his antics. A pure, good, warm smile. He could be as funny as Ron, despite being a snake. Her heart ached as Ron’s grinning, freckled face passed through her mind. Ron, oh Ron…She knew that he loved her but had no idea whether she loved him. Ron…I love you like a brother, like I love Harry. But what I would do to have both of you by my side right now. All I’ve got for company is Draco Malfoy and Loony Lovegood.

“Malfoy, you’re going to be the death of me,” she said jokingly, just as the door slammed open. A sickly pale Lucius Malfoy stood at the entrance.

“Come with me, Draco,” Lucius snapped. His gaze widened as he took in the wholesome, healthy picture of his son. “What…who healed you? You have no wand, no medicine…”

“The magic is strong in me, Father,” Draco replied, eyes revealing nothing. “I healed myself.”

“Really?” Lucius raised an eyebrow. “Really?” His voice dropped to a mutter. “The Dark Lord must know nothing about this. Nothing. I’ll say I healed him myself, ungrateful little shit couldn’t even walk up the stairs without medical help.”

Draco glared at his father. “I can hear every single word you say, you know.”

Come.” Lucius dragged Draco by his collar. The door banged shut and Lucius dragged Draco up the stairs.

Hermione turned to Luna, who watched them go with a dreamy expression on her face. “Luna?” she asked, waving her hand in front of her friend’s eyes.

“He’s so sexy and handsome,” Luna whispered.

“Draco?” Hermione gasped, alarmed. “Oh no, Luna, no–”

“Not Draco, Lucius,” Luna replied, still staring at the stairwell. “I fantasize about him, you know. Used to call him Luscious Lucius.”

“Oh my…Luna, that’s even worse!” Hermione exclaimed. “Luna, what’s gotten into you? Has he put a dark charm on you?”

“He’s a masochist’s dream,” Luna sighed. “He would be rough with me, and probably wouldn’t mind, since I’m a pureblood. He probably has so many hardcore torture devices at the bottom of his manor…”

“Um, that wouldn’t be a good idea,” Hermione said, about to explain Lucius Malfoy to her friend until the door loudly opened with a bang. Draco stood in front of two Death Eaters, eyes narrowed. “What do you want?” she snapped.

“Up, Mudblood,” Draco snapped back.

“I’ll be back soon, Luna,” Hermione whispered as she ascended into the hideous throne room once more. Voldemort sat on his stone chair, the terrible snake Nagini at his feet, his Death Eaters bowing their heads in respect.

“I have brought you the Mudblood, my Lord,” Draco said, bowing his own head.

“Wonderful,” Voldemort hissed. “You may lift your–” He stopped short to see Hermione glaring defiantly at him. Her head was raised the whole time. “Do you not know respect, Mudblood? Show some to your superiors.”

“You are not my superiors,” Hermione snarled like a wild animal. “I have had enough with your Muggle-born pureblood crap! I am just as much of a witch as you are!”

Voldemort actually laughed at this statement. “You’re a witch? Let’s see your memories then, witch. Legilimency!” He entered her mind roughly.

Hermione fought back screams as memories flashed before her eyes; first day at Hogwarts, shopping in Diagon Alley, Ron, Harry, the Sorting Hat, classes with McGonagall, pursuing the Sorcerer’s Stone, triumphant with the House Cup. More memories now – Chamber of Secrets, fear, Mudbloods, Polyjuice Potion, Sirius Black, Buckbeak, Goblet of Fire, Triwizard Tournament…they started to whirl around her mind, faster and faster, confusing her, opposites mixing. Truth lie happy sad weak strong hero villain Gryffindor Slytherin good bad rich poor loud soft more less…argh, I can’t take this anymore! The visions and memories suddenly slowed, leaving her to the most recent memory, the one with Luna. She felt a blush creeping through her cheeks. An angry blush, but one nonetheless.

“Come.” Lucius dragged Draco by his collar. The door banged shut and Lucius dragged Draco up the stairs.

Hermione turned to Luna, who watched them go with a dreamy expression on her face. “Luna?” she asked, waving her hand in front of her friend’s eyes.

“He’s so sexy and handsome,” Luna whispered.

“Draco?” Hermione gasped, alarmed. “Oh no, Luna, no–”

“Not Draco, Lucius,” Luna replied, still staring at the stairwell. “I fantasize about him, you know. Used to call him Luscious Lucius.”

“Oh my…Luna, that’s even worse!” Hermione exclaimed. “Luna, what’s gotten into you? Has he put a dark charm on you?”

“He’s a masochist’s dream,” Luna sighed. “He would be rough with me, and probably wouldn’t mind, since I’m a pureblood. He probably has so many hardcore torture devices at the bottom of his manor…”

Voldemort pulled out of her mind, a slow grin creeping to his face. It looked creepy combined with the blood red eyes. “So, your friend has a little thing for our dear Lucius, hmm?” he hissed excitedly. “Well, well, well. I’m sure she’ll be glad to hear the next part of this plan.”

“A plan, my Lord?” Lucius raised his head, gray eyes confused. “I was not informed of this plan–”

“Silence!” Voldemort hissed. “Oh yes, this is too good. Draco…I will give you one more chance to redeem yourself.”

“Anything, my Lord,” Draco whispered, bobbing his head.

“I will assign you to the Mudblood,” Voldemort continued. “You will be able to do anything you would like with her. Torture her, use her, make her do whatever you want. I expect three true facts from her about anything useful every week…or you will be punished most severely.”

Hermione glanced at Draco, a horrified expression on her face. He stared straight ahead, stone-faced like his father.

“And you, Lucius, you will be assigned to Lovegood,” Voldemort finished. “Same rules apply to you.”

“May…may I take her down now, my lord?” Draco stammered.

“Not yet. The Mudblood will be returned to her cell. I would like to have a word with both of you.”


Draco clutched his sweaty palms together as the room cleared. Voldemort’s red eyes seemed to stare straight into their souls. “I’m afraid that the Mudblood might’ve been nice to you, Draco,” he hissed. “She might’ve healed you, for instance?”

Draco and Lucius paled. Oh shit, Draco thought.

“It’s not your fault though. She has saved another of my loyal servants,” Voldemort continued. “However, that kindness may strike your soft heart. Obliviate!”

He barely had time to catch himself before he fell onto the hard stone floor.


Draco woke up in a lone cell with the Mudblood. He blinked groggily, remembering his last confrontation with the Dark Lord. Voldemort had told them about how she had a bag, a bag with dangerous objects…she had harmed him with items from that bag! He drew his wand from his sleeve. “Give over the bag, Granger,” he snarled.

“For what, Malfoy?” she replied insolently. “I healed you with Essence of Dittany from that bag, and don’t you forget it.”

“Little liar.” Draco snatched her jacket and threw the bag to the ground. He could hear items tumble as it rolled to a halt near the door. “Remember, Mudblood, you fucking hurt me with stuff from that bag.”

“I did not!” Hermione stood up now, glaring at Draco, fists clenched. “I healed you! Remember, idiot?”

“Don’t. Call. Me. Idiot! Crucio!” Draco yelled, turning the curse onto the girl. Her screams echoed across the dungeon as he held her in the curse for a full minute before watching her collapse to the ground, her dying screams turning to whimpers as she shivered and trembled. “Now. Do you accept that you lied?”

His anger was interrupted by his father clutching a glazed-eyed Luna by the shirt collar. “Don’t make her scream too loud,” he smirked. “Save it for the real torture. I’m taking her home because she wants to be my bitch. Is that right?” He slapped her cheek hard.

“Yes,” Luna whispered. “I’m Daddy’s little slut.”

“Don’t do that in front of me, Father,” Draco grimaced, disgusted.

A flash of anger crossed Lucius’ face before it smoothed. “Very well. You know how to Apparate to the manor, should you need to.” He Disapparated, leaving a battered, bruised, and broken Hermione on the ground with Draco.

“I wouldn’t lie, you know me,” she finally whispered.

“You are a dirty little liar,” Draco snarled. “And you know what happens to dirty little liars? They’re going to have to serve their dirty, nasty masters.”

(A/N: Violence warning)

Hermione’s eyes widened. “No!” she screamed as Draco took off his shirt, revealing his pale, muscular shirt. “No, no, no!”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Draco hissed, struggling to yank her shirt over her head. Her small hands pushed against his chest, trying to distance him. “Get your fucking hands off me, Mudblood.” With a sweeping motion, he revealed her in her bra. She was sobbing freely now as he tore off her jeans. “Horrible lingerie, Mudblood. Plain cotton. You’ll get points taken off for appearance.”

“Get off me!” she howled as he started to remove her bra. “No, stop!”

“Oh, you want your knickers off first, hmm?” Draco smiled wickedly before yanking down her knickers in a swift, single movement. She screamed and covered her privates. “Good gods, Mudblood.”

“Don’t touch me, you bloody fuck!” she snarled, backing away into the corner.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Draco retorted. “Crucio! Crucio! Crucio!” She screamed and howled in pain as her body contorted. “You like that, bitch?” He released the curse and she collapsed to the ground. Draco kicked her broken body and ripped off her bra. She didn’t even try to hide her breasts and lay there, panting and shivering.

“You’ve got big tits, Granger,” Draco smirked, licking his lips. Fucking her would be good, very good. “Nice ass too.” He reached forward and spanked it, grabbing her ass with a hand.

“Stop, Draco. This isn’t who you are.” Her voice was weak, her eyes dull, her body trembling slightly from the curse.

Draco lunged forward, holding her by her throat against the wall. “You don’t know who the fuck I am,” he hissed. “You don’t know what things I’ve done in the name of the Dark Lord. I’m not a little schoolboy anymore.” She was gasping for breath now, spit gurgling in her throat. He released her and she fell to the ground. He took off his trousers, holding his belt in his hand like a whip. “Take it out.”

“No!” she cried, backing away. “I won’t do it!”

Draco snapped the whip against her bare breasts and she screamed. “I said, take it out!”

Hermione crawled forward, sobbing, and reached into his boxers. She slowly pulled them down, revealing his cock. Her mouth dropped open. It had to be at least 7 inches long! “You like what you see?” Draco smirked. “Now, I want you to take it in your pretty little mouth, Mudblood.”

“I won’t,” she whispered, eyes defiant.

“Imperio,” he whispered. Her eyes became glazed and he lifted his wand. Do it, Mudblood. Do it. The curse faltered and she seemed to draw back, but another whispered “Imperio” caused her to move forward and take it into her mouth. He dropped the curse. “It’s one of the better things that have been in your mouth, isn’t it?” he sneered, thrusting forward. She gagged and gasped for breath. He held her head down and finally released it. “You like it, don’t you?”

Hermione whimpered as he drew away, a long strand of mucus connecting the tip to her mouth. “Please, stop. I don’t want to do this.”

“No one gives a shit what you want to do,” he snarled. “We’ll start with the ‘bitch’ position, I think. Head down, ass up!” He shoved her to the ground by her throat. “Now…” He positioned himself in front of her tiny entrance. “This will be fun, Mudblood. I’m going to enter what Weasley probably never got to.”

“Don’t!” she shrieked. “Please…I’m a virgin!” Tears ran down her eyes as she crouched, begging in her mind for him to take pity on her.

“Lies, lies, lies,” he muttered, shaking his head. “You and Krum fucked, didn’t you?” While she was still sobbing, he thrust in and she screamed, the sobs echoing across the dungeon. He pulled out all the way and saw the innocent blood on his cock. That scene would’ve made any man feel a chill of sorrow and pity and want to try to comfort the poor girl, but not Draco. He let out a mirthless laugh. “So, you weren’t lying.”

“No…” she whimpered. She had been raped by Draco Malfoy, her enemy that she had known for seven years of her life…and who would’ve thought he was capable of this? Tears ran down her cheeks. He’s going to take everything away from me. He’s taken my pride, my strength, my courage…even my virginity. What am I going to do?

“Your pussy is so damn tight, Granger,” he groaned as he slammed all the way in, making the witch let out yet another scream. He thrust into her, his pale hands clutching her ass as he pummeled her. He felt her shifting deep inside as she let out a howl, tears streaming down her face as he showed no mercy. He tore into her softness, letting her cries of agony wash over him like a symphony. “Stop fighting,” he said hoarsely, his loins bouncing against her soft ass. He rammed into her again and again, slamming against her cervix through her pulsing sleeve and groaning. She let out a silent scream, then felt his hands on her waist, pulling her to him, to the driving ache, his huge cock slicing through her, hungry, insatiable, his pelvis hitting her cheeks rapidly.

She felt herself shudder and whimper, gushing helplessly as he pounded her. “You just came, you slut,” Draco growled. “You like my cock in you? Answer me!”

“No…” she groaned, voice hoarse from screaming. But a tiny part of her, the darker part, enjoyed how rough he was.

“Stop lying,” he snarled. “You whore.” He pulled out of her and pushed her to the ground. “You like me fucking you rough and hard. You like me being dominant.” He moved to her mouth. “I’m going to teach you a lesson. Suck it!”

Hermione opened her mouth obediently and moved her lips along his length, hating herself for loving it. As she moved down, he thrust forward, gagging her until she was gasping and choking around his length before pulling out. She took in deep gulps of air before resuming her actions.

“You bitch!” he snarled. “You fucking slut!” He pulled on his trousers and threw on his shirt before suddenly grabbing her by her throat and slamming her against the wall. “Who would’ve believed that Miss Goody-Two-Shoes Gryffindor would like to be dominated?” he sneered. “Who would’ve believed that she like sucking cock and getting fucked harshly? Who would’ve known?”

She was gasping for breath now. “Malfoy…stop…” she choked out, her face starting to turn blue as her airway was forcibly cut. “Malfoy…”

(A/N: End of violent scene)

“What is it with you?” he growled as he shoved her to the ground. “I can’t stand you!” He walked out the dungeon door, slamming it shut, leaving an aching Hermione in there by herself…

For those of you that didn’t read the rape scene, let me fill you in. Nothing of importance happened. Draco basically just called Hermione a liar and more horrible names, raped her, and did some pretty nasty stuff. Hermione secretly loved it though, so Draco gave up. That’s it.

For those of you that have read it…hope you’re not too squicked.

Remember to leave your opinion!

Chapter Text

This is an even looooooooooonnnnnnnnnnggggggggeeeeeeerrrrrrrr chapter because it’s so frickin hot here and the internet was down for the longest time, so all I did was type XD

Disclaimer because I always forget to put one: I don’t own the HP Universe. JK Rowling does, that lucky woman. I only write and own the smutty content here ;)

Warning you right now, there is a scene with some underage stuff going on. I’ll warn you right before it happens. Enjoy!

Hermione groaned as she sat up, using the dungeon wall for support as she stumbled to her feet. She was dizzy and immediately fell back down, vomiting weakly onto the floor. After she was done, she wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her sweater and rolled into the corner, waiting for him to come and administer whatever horrible punishment was needed. Tears sprang to the corner of her eyes. “I didn’t lie to him,” she whispered to herself. “I know I didn’t. I gave him the Essence of Dittany and I fucking healed his broken body! This is how he repays me.”

The door clanged open, and Draco stood there, a sneer contorting his handsome features. “You vomited on the floor, Mudblood,” he sneered. “Well, what are you waiting for? Clean it up!”

“With what?” Hermione mumbled, not looking him in the eyes. How can I, after what happened last night?

Draco chuckled darkly. “This’ll be your next punishment. Clean your vomit off the floor…with your sweater.”

“This is the only sweater I have!” she cried. “And it’s really cold at night–”

“Would you rather do it with your mouth? Or your ass?” he retorted furiously. “I’m going easy on you, Granger. Get your sweater off and clean the mess up!”

Hermione sighed and took off her sweater, using it to mop the vomit with her Muggle sneaker. “There,” she sighed, kicking the sweater to one side of the dungeon. Her eyes watered. That sweater had cost her almost 23 pounds (A/N: According to Google, the sweater is $29.99 for all the Americans, 22.81 Pound Sterlings for the Brits, and 31.16 Australian Dollars for…you guessed it, the Australians!), and it was gone, used as if it were a cleaning rag. “What else do you want me to do?”

“Obedient already?” Draco arched an eyebrow. “Didn’t think it’d be that quick.”

“I didn’t ask for this!” she screamed. “I don’t want to be your slave! I don’t want to be here, cleaning up my own vomit with an expensive sweater and be hurt by you!”

“23 pounds? Expensive?” He barked out a mirthless laugh. “My boxers cost more than that.”

“Fuck you and your expensive boxers!” Hermione retreated to the corner, letting out a frustrated howl like a wounded animal, sobbing openly now. “I…just…leave me alone!”

Draco blinked at her sudden cussing. He backed away as her sobs echoed throughout the dungeons and she flung her hair over her shoulders to keep it away from her tears. She glanced at him as he seemed to experience a small flashback. His eyes went wide with sadness, and he raced up the stairs two at a time, Disapparating back to Malfoy Manor.

Hermione watched as he left, her nose still red and eyes still puffy from sobbing. “Why did you leave?” she murmured. “What happened?” She slowly got to her feet, stumbling to the dungeon door and pushing it open wide. This was her chance to escape.

And can you do it, Hermione? With no wand, no backup, no friends?

She glanced left and right. Lucius was probably still with Luna at his manor, which meant there was no one here. Closing her eyes, she ran for the stairwell that Draco had Disapparated from. Destination, determination, deliberation. “Mum and Dad’s house,” she muttered, spinning on the spot and disappearing.


Draco quickly Apparated back to the dungeons, panting heavily as he did so. He had Disapparated to Malfoy Manor, where he saw his father finishing up with Lovegood. The scene almost wanted to make him throw up his lunch as he ran to his room, suddenly remembering that he had left the dungeon door open.

He sighed as he looked at the empty dungeon. Granger was gone. What were you expecting? She fucking hates it here. She would obviously take a chance to escape seriously and escape. His lower lip trembled, and he balled his hands into fists, digging his nails into his palms to prevent himself from crying like a baby. The Dark Lord would kill him, he was sure. He entered the empty dungeon, silently hoping that he was wrong, and Granger was just curled up in some dark corner.


He Apparated back to his room, falling back on his bed before reaching for a folded-up picture on his nightstand, slowly opening it trembling fingers. This picture always made him feel better. It revealed a smiling girl, about ten or eleven years old, with sparkling green-gold eyes and wavy golden-brown hair. She was laughing and smiling, waving one hand at the picture and using the other to clutch a broom. “Lia,” he whispered, closing his eyes and losing himself in the picture, seeming to sink down into nothingness…

“Draco, you’re a bloody idiot,” Lia said, taking a sip of butterbeer. “Look!” She threw her pebble across the pond, where it skipped six times before sinking.

“You’re so much better than me. You’re seven, and I’m only six. You know I’m not good at this, Cordelia,” Draco replied, throwing his pebble into the water, where it sank with a splash.

Lia wrinkled her nose. “Don’t call me by my full name. You know I don’t like it, Draco.” Her voice was slightly chiding, like a mother’s.

Draco smiled at her. “I won’t do anything you won’t like,” he promised. “Cordelia is a pretty name, you know. And you’re pretty too.”

“Aww, thanks!” she said, beaming at him.

Lia’s older sister, Madeline, passed by, along with some of her friends. They were rowdy teenagers, intent on causing trouble. Some of them were holding bottles of firewhiskey, probably smuggled past their parents’ noses. “Hey, Lia!” she called. “Why don’t you hang out with us? I’ll teach you something new.”

“I don’t want to go with you, Maddy!” Lia pouted. “I’m fine here.”

“Maddy? Is that your nickname, Westbrook?” one of the boys sneered.

Madeline blushed scarlet. “Shut up, Robert. It’s Madeline,” she muttered angrily, before turning to her sister. “Fine, Lia. We’ll be having fun while you two skip stones like young children.”

“I hate my sister,” Lia said as the group walked away. “She’s always trying to get me to join her. But I know what she’s going to ‘teach’ me, and what her idea of ‘fun’ is. Dark spells, and curses, and stuff of the sort.”

“The Dark Lord is gone,” Draco said. “Why would she need to teach you that?”

Lia shrugged. “I don’t know.” In a sudden act of affection, she shifted closer to him. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“You can tell me anything, I promise not to tell,” Draco answered, curious.

“Well…I don’t think I support the Dark Lord and his beliefs.” She said this hesitantly at first, but the words soon rushed out of her mouth as though there was something behind it, a rising force that made her tell Draco everything she had been holding in up to that point. “He’s evil, killing Muggle-born families and children. They haven’t done anything to harm us. He’s just killing them because of what they can’t help. It’s not their fault they were born to Muggles.” Her eyes were wide as she saw Draco’s narrow. “Please don’t tell my mummy and daddy, Draco. Please don’t. They’ll…I don’t know what they will do. The punishment is probably darker than anything imagined. They support him fully, Draco.”

Draco took a deep breath, shutting his eyes tight. His parents, especially his father, enforced the belief of purebloods being better than any other wizards or witches that are not purebloods. He was supposed to tell them if any of his friends talked about different beliefs. But this was Lia. Cordelia Luna Westbrook, his best friend. “It’s okay, Lia,” he whispered, gently grasping her hand. “I swear not to tell a soul, not even when I die.”

Lia visibly relaxed. Suddenly, she jumped up and grabbed one of the two brooms lying near the pond. “Come on, let’s fly!” she said, smiling and hopping on her broom, whizzing away. Grinning, Draco followed her, and the two children flew off towards the setting sun, shrieking and laughing without a care in the world.

“Draco? Draco!” Narcissa Malfoy stood at the entrance to his room, eyes narrowed. She flicked her hand and his curtains opened, showing the morning light. Draco had slept through the afternoon and the night. “The Dark Lord has been calling for the past five minutes–”

Draco then noticed the searing pain in his left arm and he groaned, rolling out of bed and stuffing the picture in his back pocket before quickly putting on his Death Eater robes with a wave of his wand. “He’s going to kill me, Mum. Not because I’m late, but because something happened.”

“Get your ass over there right now, Draco, and then we’ll see what happens.” She was clearly upset, and the two Disapparated from the manor and into Voldemort’s throne room, both quickly bowing down.

“Rise,” the Dark Lord hissed, his red eyes fixated on Draco. There wasn’t even any time for theatrics of the sort. “I give you one more chance, and what do you do? You have let the Mudblood go!” His hiss was undeniably filled with anger and fury.

“I’m sorry, my Lord,” Draco muttered.

I don’t think I support the Dark Lord and his beliefs. Lia’s voice rang out in his mind and he inwardly cursed himself. Why did he fall into a flashback?

“Sorry isn’t enough. Crucio!” Voldemort roared, casting the agonizing curse on Draco.

He’s evil, killing Muggle-born families and children. They haven’t done anything to harm us. He’s just killing them because of what they can’t help. It’s not their fault they were born to Muggles.

Draco, you’re a bloody idiot.

Don’t call me by my full name. You know I don’t like it, Draco.

She’s always trying to get me to join her. But I know what she’s going to ‘teach’ me, and what her idea of ‘fun’ is. Dark spells, and curses, and stuff of the sort.

The punishment is probably darker than anything imagined.

Draco collapsed on the ground as voices swam around in his head and he groaned, writhing in agony. It wasn’t Lia’s voice anymore…it was Granger’s.

I didn’t ask for this! I don’t want to be your slave! I don’t want to be here, cleaning up my own vomit with an expensive sweater and be hurt by you!

I healed you with Essence of Dittany from that bag, and don’t you forget it.

Fuck you and your expensive boxers!

And suddenly, one memory flew to his mind, brought forth instead of all others…

Where has my kindness gotten you? It’s saved your goddamn life.

I’m healing you.

Pain overtook him, and he screamed hoarsely as his limbs contorted in directions they weren’t supposed to.

I’m healing you.

I’m healing you.

I’m healing you.

Those three words rang out through his mind again and again and again as he winced and yelled and grunted in excruciating pain. The curse finally stopped, and he dropped to the floor, throat rough and hoarse from screaming. His arm had been cut multiple times by invisible knives, he felt like his ribs were broken, and his hip bone was fractured too.

I’m healing you.

That must mean that the memory implanted in his mind of his father healing him was false…which meant that…his heart literally stopped. He had been so cruel to Granger. She had healed him, had used her expensive-as-hell Essence of Dittany to do it, had done all the thing she said she had done.

“Well, what do you have to say for yourself?” Voldemort growled angrily. “You let Granger go.”

“I cannot say anything for myself,” Draco muttered. “Throw me in the dungeons.”

“No, no, no,” Voldemort laughed. “I have something special for you. Lestrange, Yaxley, Apparate out and get our special treat.” The two Death Eaters disappeared.

Draco watched them go, an idea forming in his head. They could Apparate out because they’re wearing the Apparition charms…so I can too. He focused on his destination and stood up.

“What are you doing, insolent boy?” Voldemort snarled. “Bow down!”

It was too late. Draco spun around in a circle, Disapparating successfully.

He landed on a grassy green lawn, clutching his stomach from the aftereffects of the Apparition. The Grangers’ house was prim and proper, much like his father’s manor without the strutting peacocks and marble flamingos. He limped to the front door and rang the doorbell, fingering his wand anxiously.

Hermione clearly wasn’t expecting anyone, because she asked, “Who’s there?”

“Open the door, Granger,” he groaned, fighting the urge to vomit in the hydrangeas.

“Malfoy? What are you doing here?” she yelled. “Get off my porch!”

“I barely escaped the Dark Lord,” he slurred, starting to feel dizzy. He let go of his wand and clamped his hand around the porch railing. “Please…” He started to see stars at the edge of his vision.

“Fat chance, Malfoy,” she spat. He could hear her footsteps retreating, and barely had time to mutter a curse before falling onto the floorboards.


Hermione heard a sudden thud from the porch and she quickly rushed outside to see Draco collapsed on her porch. Her hands flew to her mouth in shock, but her hand quickly retrieved his wand and she fingered the strange wood, muttering a protection spell just in case it was a trick. “Mobilicorpus,” she muttered, levitating him onto the couch where she examined him, murmuring healing spells for his broken ribs and hip, taking his wounded arm in her hand. She retrieved Muggle rubbing alcohol with a flick of his wand and used some cotton balls to rub the stinging liquid in. He groaned as he came to. “What’s happening, Granger?” he mumbled.

“I’m healing your bloody, ungrateful body,” she snapped. “Now shut up.”

“Why does it sting so much?” he groaned. “This isn’t healing magic.”

“It’s the Muggle way of cleaning a nasty looking wound. Now shut up.” She took some bandages and plastered them to his arm, making sure to clean the blood before that happened.

“I couldn’t thank you enough, Granger,” he muttered, wincing. “I…I’m sorry for the way I treated you. He obliviated me, stole my memories and implanted false ones.”

Hermione stared into his pain-filled gray eyes. She couldn’t forgive him, not after the way he treated her, even though he didn’t know he was wrong. “You can stay tonight, but next morning, you’re leaving,” she finally said.

“Thank god you’re a lioness,” he sighed, rolling over onto the couch, cradling his arm.

“I’ll go make some bagels with that cream cheese that Dolohov called fucking unhealthy,” she muttered, getting up from the couch and walking towards the kitchen stiffly. She opened the fridge and took out the bagels, popping them in the toaster with a sigh. She sat on a nearby stool, retrieving Draco’s wand from her back pocket. I could just…do something to him now and he wouldn’t be able to defend himself. Problem solved.

“What is this metal box?” His voice floated in from the sitting room.

She sighed again. She couldn’t do it. She knew it from her heart to the tips of her toes. She couldn’t murder. “It’s called the telly. Do you want to watch it?”

“Watch the elly?” He was clearly confused now.

“Yes, it’s like a wizarding newspaper, except the pictures are in motion on the telly,” she replied, switching it on. A Muggle football match was on, the players furiously passing the ball back and forth between themselves in the final minutes of the game. She retrieved the bagels from the toaster, slathered a generous amount of cream cheese on, and set it down on the coffee table in front of the couch. “Eat.”

“This is a Muggle sport?” His tone was faintly interested.

“It’s called football,” she explained, rolling her eyes. “The players pass the ball back and forth between themselves – you know what, it’s like Quidditch on the grass and you can only use your feet.”

“Ah, okay,” he said, somewhat embarrassed to hear Hermione talk about it like every person on the planet knew what football was. “Do you have to watch this football sport all day or can you change it?”

“This is only one channel showing football,” she said. “You can change the channels using a remote controller.” She pressed a button, and it flickered to two men delivering a news report. She pressed the button again, and it flickered to an old movie. Hermione squealed with delight. “I love this movie! It’s called Boys in Brown. I used to watch it all the time with my…” She trailed off, remembering the happy times of her young self, snuggled between her parents as they watched the old movie.

“I’m sorry,” Draco said quietly. “I couldn’t imagine losing my mum or dad. But…what’s a movie?”

“You can be so pathetic when you’re in the Muggle world,” she muttered. “I’ll tell you later.” She finished her bagel before washing the plate and going upstairs to her room, the very same room she had seen the Death Eaters from. Her Gryffindor jumper still lay on the bed, and a thought hit her. Draco couldn’t sleep in his dirty, bloody clothing. What the hell am I doing, helping the boy who…alright, I’ll say it. What the hell am I doing helping the boy who fucking raped me?

She summoned some loose pajamas of her father’s and brought them downstairs. “The loo is right around the corner,” she said. “Take a shower and put these on.”

“Yes ma’am,” he replied mockingly, letting out a small cry of pain as he stood up. “Oh, bloody hell…” His robes had dried blood on them. “This is so fucking painful, and these robes cost–”

“I have to go through my own bloody hell every single month, so you can’t complain,” she snapped, cutting across his rant. “Now get your ass to the tub and get yourself clean.” He limped away, and she looked at the imprint left on the couch by his body. Luckily, his robes had taken all the blood spilled from his body. The only thing that was bloody was the porch, and she could clean that after he left.

She heard the water running from the shower and switched the channel on the telly to see the two same men delivering their news report, except they were talking about something that caught her attention.

“Have you seen this missing girl?” one of them said. Next to him was a picture of her sixth-year graduation picture. “Her name is Hermione Granger, and she was reported missing two nights ago when some neighbors visited the Grangers’ house and found her parents dead and the daughter missing. The door was blasted through, and authorities are not sure how that happened. It is not believed that she had killed her own parents, since there were no marks to reveal so, but her aunt is worried for her and believes she has run away.”

Bellatrix appeared on the telly, her curly black hair styled so it was straight, and her lipstick toned down so her lips appeared thinner. “I don’t know where she is, the poor child,” the witch said mournfully. “I just wish she would call her auntie and tell her that she’s safe.”

The reporter appeared on the screen again. “If you see Hermione Granger, call the number below.”

Hermione switched the telly off, seething with anger. “So, you’re going to try and get me like that, huh?” she muttered angrily, Bellatrix’s disguise boiling in her mind. “I dare you to try, you animals. You’ll never find me.”

“Are you okay?” Draco’s voice sounded from the hallway, and she turned to see him in her father’s blue striped pajamas.

“Yes,” she grumbled. “If you don’t mind sleeping in a Gryffindor bed, you can go on up to my room. Don’t you dare touch a thing. I’ve got protective wards up.”

He nodded and limped upstairs. She followed him and turned left, heading for her parents’ bedroom. It looked as if the Grangers were still alive. The bed was unmade, pillows untidy, and her mother’s purse lying on the side of the bed. She climbed on up, fearing eerily uncomfortable at the thought of sleeping alone, only with Draco bloody Malfoy in the house.

It’s okay, Hermione. You’ve got a wand, and you know how to use it.

The thought comforted her slightly, and she fell into a fitful sleep.


Draco muttered curses under his breath as he pulled away the gold and scarlet sheets to reveal more gold and scarlet. “Does she wave pompoms for Gryffindor or something?” he grunted before sliding into the softness, the mattress and comfy blankets engulfing him until he suddenly felt another flashback approaching…

(A/N: Underage warning)

“This is Madeline’s friend’s younger sister,” Lia said. “Her name’s Holly.”

Holly smiled warmly. Her black hair was pulled back in a braid and she was pale, like Draco. She had sparkling green eyes, much like Lia’s, but they weren’t as golden. “Hi!”

“Madeline and Holly’s older sister are outside,” Lia said. “They’re supposedly sharing–”

“GET OUT HERE RIGHT NOW, YOU LITTLE TWERP!” Madeline screamed, slamming the bedroom door open, fury and anger evident in her voice. Lia ran out the room, screaming insults as she went at her sister.

“Hey, wanna pass the time by with ‘Pop the Quaffle?’” Holly suggested. “Lia’s probably going to take a while.”

“You bet,” he smirked, getting ready to play.

His memory blurred and suddenly cleared.

“Draco, I have to ask you something,” she said. They were inside his room, finished from a round of ‘Pop the Quaffle’ and panting heavily as they lay on his bed. Lia was still arguing with Madeline outside. Both were screaming and screeching. There weren’t any adults, just house elves, and they were happy to let the two scream away.

“What?” he asked. “Ask away.”

“Do…do you know what sex is?” she asked softly.

“Yes,” he replied. “But it seems horrible!”

“It’s not horrible, Draco.” She grasped both of his hands. “It’s very pleasurable for both the male and the female, if they both know what they’re doing.” She tucked away a strand of hair. “Do you want to try it?”

“No, not really,” he said. “I don’t think I’m ready for it.”

“Are you sure?” she whispered, removing her hand from his and slowly moving it downwards, snaking it towards his crotch. “I can do it with you right now if you’d like.”

“Holly, I don’t think we should be doing this,” he protested as she started to slowly rub, her fingers sending tingly feelings into his privates. “Holly…”

“Shh…” she whispered. “Enjoy it.” He watched, half-horrified and half-fascinated, as his cock slowly started to bulge, straining against his tight trousers. “See, you’re aroused already.”

“Holly…” He let out a small pant as she unzipped his trousers, massaging his small cock as she looked hungrily at it. “What is this feeling?”

“This is a good feeling,” she cooed, bending down towards his cock and gently running her lips across it. He let out a small groan and she used her tongue to lick the tip. “You like that, Draco?”

“Yes,” he moaned. “Do it more!”

She chuckled quietly and took the whole thing in her mouth, using her fingers to gently rub his balls. The pressure was building up, and he couldn’t help but suddenly shoot a tiny stream of sticky white liquid into her mouth. Holly swallowed it, her green eyes containing an unrecognizable emotion.

Draco could recognize it now though, and it was none other than the infamous lust. He groaned in his sleep.

“Wow,” young Draco murmured, buttoning up his trousers again. “That felt so good.”

“I know,” she said, blinking. “We can do it again later. But Lia’s coming back…and we want this to be our little secret, right?”

“Of course,” he agreed, eager for more. “We’ll do it later.”

Draco woke with a gasp, his own cock unsurprisingly flaccid. He had no idea why he tried to participate in a sexual act at…what, barely 10 years old? The bad memories that followed weren’t worth it. He shook his head, his gray eyes going dark. Holly was something of the past. She was dead already, killed in an explosion at a Muggle shop.

And is Lia?

“No, stop…” he whimpered softly. “Lia…Lia’s my friend.”

But you had a fight with her, and afterwards, you couldn’t, you didn’t, you never–

“Stop!” he suddenly roared, silencing his mind.

(A/N: End of underage warning)

He sat up, putting his head between his knees. He hated being alone with his thoughts, and stumbled downstairs to make himself a bagel. He was sure Granger wouldn’t mind. “I might as well eat my fill since I’m only staying until morning,” he muttered, flipping on the light switch. The toaster was still plugged in, so he gingerly took the bagels from the fridge and put one in the toaster. “What should I do next…?” He pressed one of the levers down, and the bagels went down too, the humming sound of the toaster filling his ears. “It must be warming up,” he decided, sitting down on a stool to collect himself.

Out of the corner of his eyes, however, lay a scarlet and gold notebook. “What the bloody hell in this house isn’t scarlet and gold?” he grumbled, reaching for the notebook. His eyes widened slightly as he saw Hermione’s name written in cursive.

Hermione Granger’s Private Journal.

His curiosity got the better of him, and he opened it up and started to read…

What do you think of Draco’s friend, Cordelia “Lia” Luna Westbrook? Shout out to Skyswirl355 for helping me with the name! Sky, you picked the one that I can make a little challenge out of: all you YouTube fans out there, leave a review if you can catch the YouTuber hidden in Cordelia’s name!

Also, to the LustClan story readers that read the underage scene, I hope I didn’t ruin Hollypaw for you! ;)

Chapter Text

Sorry y’all. I’ve had really severe writer’s block and even though it’s Dramione, it did nothing to help.

I will be starting school August 22, so updates will come less frequently, just a heads up. Now enjoy! ;)

Draco opened the diary eagerly, eyes shifting with anticipation. His face fell as he realized it was written in some strange language.

ឈ្មោះរបស់ខ្ញុំគឺHermione។ខ្ញុំមាដប់មួយឆ្នាំ។ថ្ងៃនេះខ្ញុំទៅសាលារៀន។ខ្ញុំបានជួបមនុស្សដែលខ្ញុំមិនចូលចិត្ត។ ពួកគេជាអំពើគួរស្អប់ខ្ពើមនិងអាក្រក់។

That was just some of the awfully curvy, dotty, and strange writing. He frowned, muttering a curse before reaching for his wand in his pocket. It wasn’t there. He grinned to himself. “Granger thought she had me caught and tied up without any magic, did she?” he smirked, before flicking his hand. “Aparecium.”

The revealing spell did nothing. The diary shuddered once, but the writing stayed the same. Draco’s frown grew deeper. He knew there was something behind the writing. He could sense the powerful magical aura surrounding the diary. Muttering another curse, he waved his hand again, chanting another charm, especially for Arithmancy to decipher hidden messages.

The strange writing disappeared, and he held his breath. Granger couldn’t have made it that easy, or could she? His face took on a black scowl as red writing appeared across the page.

This is the diary of Hermione Granger.

Harry Potter, I’ll know you’ve been snooping. I’ve got a tracking charm on you, and don’t bother trying to take it off.

Draco Malfoy, go shove your head up a horse’s ass. You should know better than to touch my diary.

Ronald Weasley, you can go and join Malfoy at the horse. I’m sure with two heads in, it’ll be a nice and snug fit.

Lavender Brown, the more the merrier. Go join your boyfriend.

Ginny Weasley, come see me. I’ll tell you everything that’s inside it, I swear.

If you try one more time to reveal this diary, be prepared for something dark and dangerous to happen to you. I may be a Gryffindor, but I’m not beyond tricks and curses.

Draco snorted with laughter. “Ha! She thinks she can do tricks and curses? She knows nothing of what Snape taught us Slytherins in school.” He muttered the revealing spell once more, and suddenly, he was upside down, covered in dripping black tar and bat bogies. He felt something constricting around his throat, and he gasped as something invisible slithered and squeezed just enough so he could still breathe, no matter how barely. Burning pain seared through his limbs, and he felt his blood start to boil, quite literally. “Ugh…help me…” he choked out, seeing black dots dance in front of his eyes.


Hermione groaned as alarms and bells shrieked in her ears. She blinked groggily, the sudden rush of memories racing through her head and she gasped. Those sounds could only mean one thing. Clutching Draco’s wand, she ran downstairs and looked to see him being strangled by something invisible and covered in black tar and bat bogies. “Ha, serves you right,” she smirked, the scent of something burning filling her nose. She rushed to the toaster and frowned. “You set the bagels to toast for ten minutes! You only need five minutes to toast them!” They were completely toasted to a crispy, burnt mess.

“Just…fucking…help…me…” Draco gasped, his lips starting to turn slightly blue, yet his cheeks were already a deep scarlet.

Hermione sighed and waved his wand. He collapsed onto the ground, taking in deep gulps of air and in general making a mess on the kitchen floor as the tar seeped into the tile and vomiting onto the floor. “What were you thinking?” she snapped, anger rising in her tone. “You read the stupid diary. First, I told you to shove your head up a horse’s ass. Next, I warned you that something dark and dangerous would happen to you. And you obviously didn’t listen.”

“I thought…bloody Gryffindor…no dark spells…” he panted, scourgifying himself. He scourgified the mess on the floor too before collapsing onto the stool. “Sorry, Granger.”

“Sorry? I never thought I would hear you say sorry…especially after what you’ve done to me.” Hermione’s voice was very, very quiet.

“Look, the Dark Lord fucking Obliviated me, okay?” Draco retorted. “How was I supposed to remember?” He sighed, burying his head in his hands. “I’m fucking sorry, Granger.”

Hermione stood still as a statue, her face betraying no emotion. However, inside her, a whirlwind of confusion and anger was forming. Should I believe him? Should I forgive him? Instead of sighing and answering these questions aloud, she said, “Your bagels are ready.”

Draco wrinkled his nose as he drew one out, some charred pieces falling onto the kitchen counter. “Um, what do I do with it?”

“Eat it, duh.” Hermione waved Draco’s wand and the crumbs disappeared. “You made it, you eat it.”

“You’re sick, Granger,” Draco grumbled, opening his mouth to eat the bagel.

“Sick?! You think I’m sick? What’s sick is that you almost fucked me to death!” Hermione snapped, spit flying out of her mouth as she yelled at him. The Gryffindor was livid, and red spots danced in front of her eyes. She let out a tiny shriek of anger and stormed away, stomping up the stairs and slamming the door to her parents’ room shut. Once she was sure he wasn’t there, she let the sobs come out. All her hate, anger, fury…and sadness too came to the surface and she wept at the edge of the bed.

“I’ve been a prat, and I don’t deserve to stay here, but is it okay if I make you a not-so-burnt bagel?” His voice made her jerk her head up and she glared at him through red-rimmed eyes. He sighed. “I’m just trying to make it up to you.”

“There is absolutely nothing you can do, Malfoy. Fuck off,” she muttered.

“Granger, I’ve been a bloody asshole for trying to do this to you, I know. I’ll be leaving right now,” he murmured quietly, leaving the room.

“No, wait!” She quickly slapped her palm over her mouth. What the fuck did I do just now!? He turned around, and she could see the pain and exhaustion in his gray eyes. “Stay,” she said firmly. “You’re in no shape to go.”

He stumbled over to her bedroom and she heard him flop on her bed. Quickly conjuring a potion from her supplies, she forced him to drink it, and watched as he fell into deep sleep.


“Draco!” Lia grabbed his hand and pulled him outside, where she quickly conjured two brooms. “Maddy’s kissing Robert! Let’s go and dump some butterbeer on them!” Her eyes sparkled with mischief.

A smirk grew across Draco’s face and he grabbed his broomstick and summoned a huge pitcher of butterbeer before speeding off with Lia towards a small garden. “Lia, where are they?” he whispered.

“Be very quiet now!” she warned, before landing on the ground softly and slowly creeping forward, pushing some vines aside to reveal her sister locked in a passionate embrace with Robert. Robert was practically eating Madeline’s mouth while Madeline moaned into his. The two children grasped the sides of the butterbeer jug tightly.

They locked eyes, and with identical nods, jerked their arms forward so the butterbeer flew into the air. It splashed both witch and wizard and they screamed, breaking apart, clothes soaked with butterbeer. Draco and Lia burst out laughing before sprinting away and flying high into the sky on their broomsticks.

“You’re going to shit yourself if you laugh any harder, Lia,” Draco chuckled as his best friend rolled off her broomstick and onto the ground, mirth streaming from her eyes.

“Draco, that was frickin hilarious though!” Lia sighed, wiping tears from her eyes. “Those pussy bitches didn’t even see it coming!”

“Who’s a pussy bitch?” A low, angry cry filled the air and Madeline stormed up to them, eyes red-rimmed. She had obviously been crying and smelled like Butterbeer, even though she had cast a Drying Charm on her clothing. “Are you calling me a fucking pussy bitch?” She made a slashing motion with her wand and Lia fell to the floor, a long gash running down her cheek. Small droplets of blood welled on the surface.

“Stop it!” Draco cried, using his own wand to cast a charm. Red light flickered from the tip, then died out.

“And who’s going to stop me from hurting her? You? You’re not even in Hogwarts yet! I’m a seventh year!” Madeline cackled. “You think you can protect my sister, lover boy? You’re just her asshole of a boyfriend!”

Lia slowly lifted a hand to her cheek, wiping away some blood, and staring at her bloody fingertips. “I…I’m telling Mummy!”

“Oh, do go run to Mum, will you?” Madeline retorted harshly, sending a Tripping Hex towards her younger sister. Lia fell face-first in the dirt. She slowly got up, eyes burning with anger. “Cowards run, heroes fight,” Maddy jeered. “Which makes YOU a coward.”

“Don’t. Call. Me. Coward! CRUCIO!” Lia screamed. Madeline was lifted high in the air. Her hair hung around her in a golden halo, and her dress whipped back and forth from an invisible wind. Draco gaped at his unrecognizable friend as she held the curse for a full minute and watched her sister writhe and contort in agony before releasing her. “Who’s the coward now?” the younger sister said softly, before delivering a swift blow to the ribcage with a heeled boot. “Come on, Draco.”

Draco followed her helplessly. Those once mischievous eyes were filled with pure rage and fury. “Um, Lia? Shouldn’t we go back and see if your sister is–”

“Shut up, Draco!” she yelled, bringing back her hand and slapping him in the face. He stumbled back, eyes wide. This was the first time she had ever yelled at him or slapped him. She seemed stunned by her sudden behavior towards him too. “Draco…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that–”

“Save your breath,” he snapped, running away from her, ignoring her cries of, “Draco, wait!” and rounding the corner to take the Portkey back to his father’s mansion.

The scene blurred, and he groaned in his sleep.

It was a month later, and he had not attempted to contact Lia. He sighed, staring out the window into the open skies, the hills devoid of life and movement. Suddenly, a small brown speck flapped towards him, and he recognized Lia’s owl, Archimedes, flapping his speckled wings. The owl let out a long screech before landing on the windowsill. Draco fed it some seeds, retrieved the letter from its leg, and opened it.

Dear Draco,

How have things been? It’s been very quiet and lonely without you. It’s no fun here, because I can’t prank Maddy by myself.

He felt a pang of anger. The last prank with Madeline had been disastrous.

I just wanted to say I’m sorry. For everything, including slapping you. I was just so angry, I really didn’t know what I was thinking. Casting the Crucio curse on Maddy was one of the worst things I’d ever done in all the years I’ve lived. She spent a good three weeks in St. Mungo’s, and we said that she got knocked in the head playing Quidditch. The Healer seemed to believe us, but I feel so guilty! It was time wasted, money wasted, and my sister wasted. She’s out of the hospital now and okay.

Here I am, getting sidetracked again. Draco, please visit me tomorrow morning. We’re starting at Hogwarts in less than a month, and I would like to visit Diagon Alley with you to buy our school items. I miss you so much, more than you can ever imagine.

Please, please, please say yes,


He folded up the letter and put it in one of his drawers, before taking out a quill, some ink, and a paper, and beginning to write.

Dear Lia,

Your anger is understandable, though I wish you hadn’t slapped me. It still stings, though it was a long time ago. But it wasn’t just a slap, it was a slap that represented our broken friendship.

I already had plans to visit Diagon Alley tomorrow at 9 am, so I hope you can go at that time too. We can meet at Flourish and Blotts first.


He folded up the letter and gave it to Archimedes, who gave a final screech before flying away. Now he could only wait and see.

Draco jolted awake, wiping away the sweat with the back of his hand that had formed on his forehead. He sighed and muttered a few charms, reinforcing the healing potion in place, before sitting up and sighing.

Shut up, Draco!

Her voice rang in his head, the voice of a ghost lost so long ago. She was now just the wisp of a memory left behind, carried on through her family and through him.

“Draco, I went out and bought some soup from the shop nearby.” He faced the door, and it was a kind-looking older woman with wavy brown hair. She had barely-noticeable wrinkles on her face, and her eyes were amber. The shock must’ve shown on his face, so the woman sighed and waved his wand, revealing a Glamour charm that Hermione Granger was underneath. “It’s chicken noodle soup, the best for healing. Delicious too.”

“Bloody chicken noodle soup,” he grumbled as she passed a Styrofoam container to him. The warmth protruding from it made his hands tingle. “Everybody says it’s good for healing, but rosemary beef stew is better.”

“I’ve never tried it,” Hermione said thoughtfully, taking a sip of the liquid. “Did your mum make it for you when you were sick?”

Lia did. She always did. When she knew I was sick, she sent a whole pot of rosemary beef stew for me. Instead, he shook his head. “It was a family friend.”

“Oh, indeed.”

“Indeed.” They both drank it down slowly at first, then faster and faster until they were gulping it down in huge amounts even though it was hot. Soon, both their containers were empty, and they were sated. Draco leaned back on the bed, sighing as the warmth tickled his belly.

“Was it Pansy?” Hermione suddenly asked. At his expression, she quickly added, “You know, the family friend that made your soup?”

“Pansy’s father was just a colleague of my father’s,” Draco answered. “We weren’t really friends, but we were familiar with each other.”

Pansy tried to get close to me, but I wouldn’t allow her, because someone had already stolen my heart when they got close to me. It wouldn’t happen again.


The silence stretched for a while, before Hermione spoke again. “But the whole school assumed that you two were dating during your sixth year.”

“Rumors are rumors, Granger,” he shot back, though not unkindly. “Just like you and Weasley.”

“I can say that I did like Ron for some time,” she admitted. “But that feeling just went away. I think he’s still with Lavender.”

“Who said opposites match? You’re intelligent, he’s got the brain capacity of an ass,” Draco said, deadpan. “If you ask me, they belong together. Two idiots make a couple.”

Hermione stared at him, before bursting out laughing. “Oh, that’s funny,” she chuckled, then stopped abruptly. “You said just now that I was…intelligent.”

“You are, Hermione.” The use of her first name sent a tingly feeling down her spine. His eyes were locked to hers, and she found she couldn’t move them away. “Even a snake knows when to admit defeat.”

“Really? Then why didn’t you stop being mean to Harry, Ron, and I during our time at school, knowing we’re going to kick your ass every which way?”

Good one, Hermione.

The hints of a smile played at the corners of his lips. “You want to argue? Well, like I said, the Weasel’s got the brain capacity of an ass. Precious Potter, Quidditch Star, is too busy moaning about his scar and wondering why he let that clumsy McLaggen play for Gryffindor. You’re the smart one, and you’ve got to hold those two down. I would figure that one little witch, no matter how smart, could pull off a feat like that.”

“Ooh, you’re going to pay for that,” she said mock-angrily.

It’s almost normal conversation again. I was healing him last time, and here I am again, saving his sorry ass.

“And how are you going to get revenge on me, Hermione?” There it was, the use of her first name once more.

“I’ll get into your mind and find out your deepest, darkest secrets, Draco.”

She was only half-teasing but saw surprise and even fear flit across his face before it disappeared. “You wouldn’t do that. You’re not a Legilimens.”

“Are you sure about that?” she smirked, watching his face carefully this time.

This time, he let nothing show, but instead smiled. “Bring it on.”


She was instantly plunged into a whirl of memories, like a messy living room with piles and piles of memories everywhere. Suddenly, white mist fogged her path, and she couldn’t see anymore. She drew out of his mind and smiled. “So, you can do Occulumency.”

“And you can do Legilimency.”

The pair remained silent, before she suddenly entered his mind again. This time, she quickly navigated through the memories until she came to one that she was unable to get out of, no matter how hard he tried to push her out.

(A/N: I would leave a cliffie here, but I do feel bad since I haven’t updated in a while and I probably won’t be updating in a while because of school lol)

“Draco!” Lia ran to him and threw her arms around him tightly before drawing back, eyes shy. “I’m so glad to see you again.”

Draco just nodded stiffly, before turning to his parents. “I’ll be with Lia for two hours, then we can meet up again at the ice cream shop.”

“That’s fine, dearie. Take care,” Narcissa said, quickly pecking her son on the cheek before following her husband out of the shop.

“Hey, look! It’s a book set for first years,” Lia said, pointing out a bundle of books. “It has all the books we need! I’ll take one and you take one.” They paid for their books and put them in Lia’s bag with an Undetectable Extension Charm.

“Thanks for agreeing to meet with me today,” she said as they walked the cobblestone roads. “Again, I’m sorry for what I did. Really, I am.”

“How is Maddy?” he finally asked, after a long silence stretched between the two.

“She’s still dating Robert, through all the butterbeer-soaked memories,” Lia said, a familiar smirk creeping at the edges of her lips. “Going to university next year to become a Charms Mistress. Robert wants to be a Quidditch referee.”

“That’s nice,” he said, shoving his hands into his robe pockets.

“Hey, you know that our mums and dads aren’t here, right?” Lia’s eyes sparkled with mischief, the same mischief he had seen a month ago, the one that had nearly gotten Maddy killed. “Wanna go see what’s in Knockturn Alley?”

“That’s not very safe–” he objected.

“Oh, come on, Draco!” she interrupted. “Don’t tell me you’re a pussy bitch.” Her tone was literally daring him to go along, get involved in the trouble.

And like the fool he was, he agreed to. They slipped off to the side and down a shady stairwell. Lia was clutching Draco’s hand, but she was clearly excited as she nearly tugged him down the stairs. Homeless hags leered at them from the edge of the streets, and one even had the nerve to approach the pair. “Pretty girl and handsome boy. Schoolchildren, on top of that. What brings you to Knockturn Alley?” she croaked, cracking her knuckles with gnarly hands.

“Um, we’re just going to Borgin and Burkes,” Draco stuttered, dragging Lia past and slipping into the shop.

An opal necklace was on display in the front window, claiming that it has taken the lives of nineteen Muggles. Lia shivered as the dusty, yet chilled air hit their faces. “Mr. Borgin, at your service.” An oily haired man quickly walked up to them, bowing low on the ground.

“I’m Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy,” Draco stated solemnly, knowing that the family name held power.

He was right. Mr. Borgin seemed to shudder before smiling. Half his teeth were missing and the ones that remained were yellowed. “Feel free to look around,” he said, bowing again before backing away.

“This is creepy,” Lia muttered, clutching her robes tighter around herself.

“We can go now,” Draco replied quietly, nodding thanks to Mr. Borgin before clasping his friend’s hand tightly again and exiting the shop. The two made their way up to the safer parts of Diagon Alley again.

Draco forced Hermione out of his mind, shoving her away from him. They both fell back, Hermione’s eyes filled with shock. “Who was she?”

“No one you should know about,” Draco snapped, furious with the witch. Lia was a secret he would keep close to his heart. No one shall know about her. “Get out!”

The startled witch fled the room, leaving Draco all alone to gather his memories and thoughts. His heart ached as Lia surfaced in his mind. “I miss you,” he sighed, getting back under the covers and willing sleep to take him.

I love writing scenes between Draco and Lia! Favorite scenes to write. Maybe I’ll do another story about their childhood. For those of you wondering, language near the beginning of the chapter was Khmer. Remember to review!