13th May 2000

She was healing. To be absolutely fair to the girl, she seemed good at it.

At times, Draco almost wanted to harm himself intentionally so he could earn himself a trip to St Mungo's, just to be nearer to her. But he never... he never got closer to her than one hundred meters away, and even then, he was mostly in shadow.

He'd started collecting newspaper clippings about a year ago. He told himself it was for research purposes; if he could trace and keep track of the Golden Girl of Gryffindor, then he would stay in The Dark Lord's good books. But those clippings ended up going into the leather suitcase he hid away under his bed; he had a small collection; on top of his drawings and the poetry pages he had ripped out of books over the years.

He told himself it wasn't an obsession. It was a coping mechanism. It was something that he noticed he did when he felt under immense pressure; almost a-kin to a person self-harming ... he chose something to relieve the build-up of tension and rage inside of himself. He chose the only thing he knew that would make him feel good.

He chose Hermione Granger.

31st October 2000

Frontline battles made her cry. He could see her shaking; her hands working harder than ever to tend to the wounded as her eyes brimmed with tears. She worked immensely hard under pressure, but Draco always got the sense that she feared every second of her being there, like she couldn't wait for the moment when she was no longer needed and could get away.

She never caught a glimpse of him, except that one time a stunning spell was sent in her direction during an attack in the middle of Holywell; a small Town in the Middle of Wales. Apparently known as an Order nest, Draco and a few others were sent to raid the area and kill anyone who got in their way.

Granger knew the spell had been deflected from her, as her scream died down and she found that no harm had come to her. He remembered her looking in his direction, her eyes squinting at him in the darkness. He knew she felt the need to say thank you, because it was in her nature... but she had no idea who or what she was saying thank you for. Instead, he saw her turn and scramble away.

That was the closest he had gotten to her for a long time. He could see the twists of her curls and the brights of her eyes as she peered at him curiously through his Death Eater mask; like she knew it was him.

Part of him hoped she did. Part of him wanted her to be able to see the man beneath the monster.

25th December 2000

She had found the Medi-bag.

It was stupid, and he knew he was risking his life for this ... but she needed something to put her medical tools and potions in, other than that bloody bag she carried around with her. He sensed her anxiety as she opened the front door of the cottage; The Order's third hiding place of the month since they had discovered a Mole within their ranks who had been passing on information to Dolohov in return for money.

Granger's hair blew in the chilly Winter wind as he watched her bend down on the step of the cottage and pick her parcel up. He watched her from the shadows as she looked around her curiously, looking for someone who might have been kind enough to gift her. Draco watched her as she studied the wrapped present, before opening the cottage door and carrying the gift inside.

He hoped she liked it. He hoped she used it everywhere she went and that she felt like someone was looking after her when she opened it. He hoped she felt comforted by the notion that she was being thought about.

Hermione Granger was forever looking after other people. He just wanted to return the favour. Because did anyone ever really look after her? Did she ever have anyone at night to lean on and tell her problems to? Did Weasley understand her when she broke down crying over the pressure of having a split second to save a life? He assumed not ... Weasley lacked that kind of intelligence.

Draco liked that she looked after people. He liked that she felt the passion and devotion to make people feel special and cared for.

As Draco walked into the trees, he took one last glance at cottage. He only wished that he could return that same feeling to her one day.

12th April 2001

Vivid fantasies all welded into one about her. Always imagining what she would taste like and how she would feel ... if he kissed her would she kiss him back softly? Would her body have soft curves or hard edges? ... would she like it rough or gentle ...

Hermione Granger was probably a gentle lover. Probably used to a man taking his time and worshipping her body. Probably used to rose petals on the bed and the missionary position at least twice a week ... an orgasm every third Sunday of the month if she was lucky.

Draco was none of those things. Pansy had told him back in 6th Year that she thought he had done damage to her internal organs ... something he had prided himself on and told all of his friends. He wasn't trying to impress the girl, he just liked it rough. And when his hand closed around a girl's throat and her legs were hiked up around his waist, he felt a sense of control that he desperately needed.

It was even better in a dark room. In a dark room, Draco could manifest the images of a curly haired girl with a petite frame; imagine it was her neck he had hold of and it was her cunt he was pounding into ... it was her screams of pleasure he was hearing. He just needed to hear her say his name. He needed to know that it was him and only him who could give her such immense pleasure. He needed to know what she wanted him as much as he wanted her... how he craved her so passionately.

No; she would never feel that for him. And she would never know the way he burned for her, because in her eyes he was just another Death Eater ... the lowest of the low.

19th June 2001

It became a ritual. Find and seek her out. If The Order moved on then Draco would track and trace them ... he always had to watch her; keep her. He needed to know she was okay, that she was safe. Draco hadn't seen her on the battlefield for a while, wondering if the powers from above had seen sense and realised it was unsafe to have one part of the Golden trio out there for all to see. There was only two of them left now, and Draco sensed that they were both living on borrowed time ... plans were being put into place.

The thought of Granger being threatened made him feel uneasy.

1st July 2001

He caught a glimpse of her using the medi-bag one night during a raid in Devon.

It made him smile.

14th August 2001

She looked devastated. He knew they were no longer together as the Daily Prophet had attested to that, but he knew that she would be truly gutted all the same. Draco watched her from afar as she stumbled through marshlands on the outskirts of a little town in Yorkshire. Her breathing was hitched and he could sense that her heart ached.

Ron Weasley had disappeared. Captured during a raid in Gloustershire; assumed dead. Draco honestly didn't know whether the fella was dead or alive, but in that moment, he saw the hurt on Granger's face and wanted nothing more than to comfort her; tell her everything would be okay. That they were both two ends of the same sword, fighting for something that neither should have got involved with.

Draco watched as she fell to her knees and sobbed. Deep, gut wrenching cries that made Draco's heart splinter. And he did not deserve to see this ... he didn't deserve to see her weakness and he didn't deserve to see her vulnerability. He deserved nothing from her, and yet he felt like she deserved everything from him.

She was Hermione Granger. Broken by a war that she did not deserve to be a part of.

Draco pulled his cloak around himself as he watched her tears fall. And he promised himself silently that one day, he would be there to stop them.

15th August 2001

"The Dark Lord wants you to track her, Draco." His Father told him casually as he picked up his tea cup. "I feel she holds important information that The Dark Lord wants to get hold of."

Draco paled.

The worst possible news he could have been given. If Hermione Granger was a threat then she truly was living on borrowed time.

Draco couldn't have that. He was a desperate man when it came to her; the idea of her being used for someone else's gain made him feel sick. He would need to think fast, if he stood any chance of protecting her against all of this.

"Keep a close eye on her ... I feel our Lord is wanting to know the whereabouts of the next raid..." Lucius sounded serious and business-like. "Please be sensible about this, Draco..."

Silence passed between them; Draco knew what his Father meant. Draco knew what his Father was implying and it made the walls close in on him further. His dark obsession had not gone un-noticed.

"As The Dark Lord wishes, Father." Draco replied in an emotionless voice from behind his paper. His eyes were trained on a curly haired girl with big brown eyes staring back at him, with the headline of 'Where is Hermione Granger?'.

Draco suddenly found himself wishing that he didn't know.

1st September 2001

Draco watched her from the top window, a white bath towel wrapped around her from her Breasts down, and her long curly hair all wet and dangling down over one of her shoulders. Fuck, she was an image, and Draco couldn't help the ideas that filtered in through his mind.

What kind of moans would she make? Small and guttural or loud and expressive? Would she arch her back and bite her lip when she came? Would her toes curl? What would she do if he bit her neck? Would she scream his name as her walls clenched around his cock?

Fuck, he wanted her ... had wanted her for so fucking long. The women he had now were used to his harsh ways; the only way that he knew how to show affection. It was ingrained into him ... he didn't do tender; he didn't know how. Rough and ready kept women at arm's length; stopped them from getting ideas that they would be the next Mrs Malfoy.

Fuck that.

Draco shook away the thought and realised he had lost track of her again from the window. But at least he knew she was there ... still ticking ... still alive...

He could cope because of that.

3rd September 2001

"Where is she, Draco?"

He closed his eyes momentarily. Willing the thoughts away. He was skilled in Occlumency; but hopefully he wouldn't need to use it. He took a few deep breaths ... now or never...

"-I fear she has information in her mind that is much too dangerous to be kept..." Draco wanted to shudder; that raspy, serpent-like tone did things to his insides. "We need her to disappear..."

Draco nodded hesitantly. He knew what Lord Voldemort meant ... he wanted her dead.

One shot ... you have one shot ... "I could get close enough to obliviate her mind-" Draco heard a sharp intake of breath from his left-hand side. His Father was not happy with that offer.

"It makes for a far better advert to kill the Mudblood ... show no mercy... no weakness..."

Draco didn't look up at him, but he knew Lord Voldemort was pacing.

"Draco will get the job done, my Lord." ... his Father was an unfeeling man at times.

"Let the boy speak!" Draco's Father had displeased him. "...Draco?"

He kept his eyes closes and kept his heartbeat as slow as he could. He felt the sweat bead on his forehead at the thought of what he was about to do... he was going to choose.

"They were last seen two nights ago in an abandoned Cottage on the outskirts of Chester, My Lord." His throat went dry.

"And you saw the girl there?"

Draco waited a beat. "Yes."

There was a flurry of movement behind them as Death Eater took off, apparating to around the location that Draco had sent them.

A false location that Draco had chosen to give.

Because Draco had chosen Hermione Granger.

5th September 2001

Draco sank to his knees, head in his hands. Deathly silence engulfed him all around and he dared not to open his eyes ... if he did, then this was all real.

"You displease me, Draco ... I thought Lucius had taught you better than this." The hiss of his voice made Draco quiver; he almost begged there and then like the weak -willed man that he was to let him take it all back.

But he couldn't. There was no going back, and now his Mother and Father were casualties of a War that would lead to nothing but a bloody triumph for either party. His Mother ... he would never forget the image of his mother ...

He let out a sob, not even realising it had escaped his throat until he heard titters of laughter behind him. It made him want to cry more. Cry for his Mother and his Father and the situation. Cry for his loss and his pain and the guilt of knowing that he had done this to them; had them killed all because he was unwilling to let go of his infatuation with a girl who didn't even fucking like him. A girl that would probably celebrate the death of his parents once she had heard what had happened to them.

It was in that moment that Draco hardened a little. All of the fluffy feelings he had ever felt about the girl were too painful to think about ... twist it ... break it ... turn it into something else... break her like she's broken you from the inside out... she deserves it ... look what she made you do ...

Draco Malfoy had effectively killed his family for Hermione Granger.

Draco would have to live with that for the rest of his life; and he didn't quite know how. What was right and what was wrong anymore? Who was good and who was evil? Hermione Granger had forced him into making a choice without even realising it ... was that evil? Or was there just good in him all along?

As Draco was hoisted to his feet and pushed out of The Dark Lord's presence within The Great Hall of Hogwarts, Draco realised that now he no longer had to pick a side ... he would pick his own side; somewhere that lay in the middle for the memory of his parents and for the approval of a Gryffindor who didn't know it yet, but he would find a way into her life... by force, if necessary.

16th November 2001

Draco saw the internal struggle of both of his Parents. His Mother and Father were proud people and would scarcely admit when mistakes were made. But he knew that when it came to the side they had chosen, then if they could have taken it back then they would have. He saw the conflict behind his Mother's eyes whenever his Father or himself were taken away on a mission... he saw the clench of his Father's jaw whenever he was asked to dispose of a Ministry official in the most inhuman way.

Draco had thought of them fondly over the past few months, but his heart clenched in his chest whenever the vision of their lifeless bodies flashed in his mind. They were dead because of him... because of his choice ... because of Hermione Granger.

Draco's eyes darkened as they often did now at the thought of her. The thought of her brought instant guilt now, still tinged with the emotions of lust and need ... dangerous combinations that were starting to mingle together to create a dangerous feeling that rose within his chest. Draco was feeling conflicted and in a constant battle with himself. He just needed for this to all be over ... he needed it to stop.

But it wouldn't. He couldn't stop it. He couldn't stop her seeping in and assaulting his senses. He was consumed by her in the worst way.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Mr Malfoy?" Mr Chadwick; a Ministry solicitor asked him over his rectangular glasses. "Once you sign, it is all final ... no going back."

Draco nodded and picked up the quill, signing upon the dotted line. "No need to go back, Francis." Draco told the older man darkly. "I'm not heading that way."

The older man nodded. "Very well, consider Malfoy Manor as good as sold." He reached out to shake Draco's hand. "As soon as the sale has been completed, the money shall be deposited into your Gringotts account."

Draco had no regrets, instantly feeling a weight lift from his shoulders. None of Lord Voldemort's followers could bring themselves to his new house uninvited. No one would know where he was living unless he told them himself.

As Draco walked out of the office, he brought a brochure out of the robes of his pocket. He looked at the picture on the front and gave a half smirk.

The University of Bath... somewhere Draco had considered escaping to on many occasions over the last few years. Leaving everything behind and going into hiding within the Muggle world. Something he was sure that his Mother and Father would have done in the beginning if they had made the choice... run away from it all.

Draco needed somewhere that he could hide and yet go back easily into the Wizarding world when he needed to. He needed somewhere that could hold respite for him and let him lead a quiet life amongst the ruins of his old one.

Bath.

Maybe the place was worth a proper look.

15th December 2002

She came here every Sunday.

Draco knew that because he liked to listen in to her conversations from time to time. A spurt of laughter here; a groan of exasperation there ... she was expressive. Draco couldn't remember a time when he had last heard anyone laugh ... or laugh himself. Laughter was reserved for people who had something to be happy about. And this was, apparently, Hermione Granger's happy place.

She was walking along arm in arm with Ginny Weasley. The brambles were high and the wind was chilly that morning, but Draco didn't feel it. He didn't feel much anymore. He only knew the weather was cold because of the bobble hats the girls were wearing.

The Forest of Dean in Gloucester was almost magical. A place you could get lost and bury your troubles. Draco had been here many times as a child, able to fly his broomstick without being seen. How odd he found it that both himself and Granger thought of the same place as somewhere that brought them both happy memories.

Just another thing to bind them together ...

No; he had to stop doing that. As soon as his heart leapt at the thought of her, the feeling of guilt and self loathing appeared in his stomach, weighing him down. He kept thinking it was her fault for making him make those choices... for fucking his head up and causing him to go against the grain.

Hermione Granger had turned him inside fucking out and she didn't even know it. And now, whenever he thought about the memory of his parents, he was brought down in guilt for what he did to them over a girl who fucking hated him.

He hated himself, for everything that he was and everything that he thought he could try to be. To be a better man? All for a girl? Was he really that desperate? Did his possession for her really run that deep?

He looked down the little brew as he watched her from behind trees and shadows as she walked; never knowing the place that she had in his life. Never knowing the things he had done for her; would continue to do for her to keep her safe.

His possession ran much deeper than he thought.

25th December 2002

It was only a book and a bookmark.

Granger read a lot. Draco always noted that whatever safe house she went to, he would always find her near a window, reading a book. Any book would do, it seemed. She wasn't fussy on Author's or titles, as long as the book transported her into another world.

Much the same as last year, Draco had left the gift on the front step, only this time it was outside of a little converted stone mill in Eccles. A beautiful structure, not unlike that of the surroundings of his new flat in Bath. It suited her ... she suited the environment.

He watched as she looked around, much like she had done last year. He saw her hesitantly bending down to pick up her package, peering around again into the darkness as she did.

"Thank you." She called out, hoping that someone would hear her acceptance. "And thank you for my Medi-bag last year ... I loved it." She waited a beat. "Merry Christmas."

Draco so desperately wanted to shout back to her. Tell her she was welcome and that she deserved so much more ... but he kept quiet. Shrouded in darkness and unforgiveable actions. He could never allow her to know; she would still hate him for it.

"Your welcome, Granger..." he whispered into the misty air as he watched her walk back into the Mill. "...Merry Christmas..."

26th June 2003

Draco went off the grid for a few months. Almost in hiding as he went about fixing up and renovating his flat. He had brought nothing from his parents' manner except his clothes, a few heirlooms and a small box of his personal items... drawings and newspaper clippings amongst them.

He saw only Theo and Pansy every now and again for a long time; preferring the peace and quiet of his own company and feeling himself caving inwards, craving the loneliness as it made his guilt feel less. Why should he be allowed to get on with his life when he effectively ended the lives of his parents?

He knew it was not a rational way of thinking. He knew that the thoughts in his own head were against him ... but he couldn't help it, and every time he thought of her he thought of them and the emotions got so tangled together that he couldn't work out whether he hated her or himself for everything.

The drawings had been thrown against the wall in anger along with the rest of the contents of the box, at first. Draco let them flutter to the floor with the means to trample on them and leave them defiled... but he just couldn't do it. The thought of her face beneath his foot brought a twang of pain to his chest, and he couldn't bring himself to stamp all over her.

She had done it to him, and hadn't even realised it. Caused deep, mental scars that he would never get rid of ... but he needed that. He needed to be reminded of what he was and what he had done, all for her. She was his darkness and his light and she would never know it. Never feel it like he did.

He started on the right side of the wall; sticking the drawings and the newspaper clippings up there ... watching them float up as he admired her smile ... admired the way his drawings captured the rarity of her. This would not be a permanent fixture; it was just for now... it gave him something to focus on when things got too much for him. Something for him to look at when he remembered the good things and wanted to break down over the bad things.

He could keep her here, in this room. He could keep a part of her here for himself ... like a crutch that he might need to lean on sometimes.

She could be that for him. His crutch.

2nd May 2004

Pansy and Theo's visits started to dwindle over time.

Pansy observed that she couldn't take his manhandling of her anymore, hating that he went so rough with her ... touched her like she was nothing to him. She told him she needed more than that; she needed someone who would treat her right.

He couldn't offer her more than what he was giving her. A casual fuck here and there as he pounded her into the mattress. Taking out all of his frustration on a willing female body; closing his eyes and imagining that it was Granger he was slamming away into... he needed that so badly, it was eating him alive.

Theo saw it in him. He had offered help multiple times; told him to sell the flat and find a way to buy back the Manor ... readjust to the Wizarding world again. But the spark for it wasn't there anymore. He didn't want any of it, he just wanted to be left alone to let his thoughts eat away at him.

"I'm here if you ever need to talk." Theo had told him, but he knew full well that Draco would never reach out.

The further away he got from his friends, the more he always thought of granger. Over time he had built up the kind of woman she would be now in his head. She would be confident and powerful and blazing with emotion. She would match him beautifully in everything and fight him every step of the way.

His 'room' allowed him to add more of her; everything he thought she was and what he wanted her to be, put upon a pedestal. He often drew her with that curious look on her face that she had worn on Christmas day. The way her hair framed her face and her eyes shone out into the dark; warming his soulless body. He found scrapping's of quotations inside books and wrote them down; things that reminded him of her and the way she made him feel.

His room was his personal space to just forget. Forget, but remember why he felt the way he did. His shrine was built on pain and sorrow; gift-wrapped in the paper flesh of a person that he didn't really even know. Someone he had built up in his mind to be the epitome of light; a beacon in his otherwise bleak life. He had to cling onto this ... this was all he had now. She was all he had.

26th July 2004

He hated doing his dirty work. He had lost total passion for field work and despised being called upon. He felt like he was living two lives; the real Draco and a dark mask to hide behind whilst he did bad deeds.

His mood sunk even further whilst out on the field one night; spotting her mulling around and speaking with another Order member whilst in some bushes, attempting quite badly to flirt with her.

And then he kissed her.

Fucking kissed her, straight on the mouth. And she kissed him back.

The obsession turned sour quite quickly when he saw her. He raged as the flames of jealousy licked up at him. And the realisation that he could never have her crashed down around him, because she didn't know how he felt. She had no idea that he still even existed... to her, he was nothing.

Draco grew desperate in that moment. If he could make her feel just like he did then he could make her understand how much he wanted her...he wanted her to feel the pain that he felt, because it consumed him. He wanted it to swallow her whole, too.

His eyes darkened when a thought occurred to him; he would bide his time. Bide his time, and then one day he would have her all to himself. Keep her safe with him.

25th December 2005

Bath was quiet that Christmas morning; a small smattering of snow on the ground and Draco could see his breath in the air. Muggles passing him cheerily offered him a Merry Christmas. He nodded politely, but he had fuck all to be Merry about.

This was his quiet time. His time when he didn't think or feel anything. This was his time to just ... be. He had walked this path so many times since he had bought the flat; it was almost like an extended part of him now. He enjoyed the freedom of coming and going as he pleased; the notion of being hidden from view and able to go undisturbed if he wished to.

He often wondered what Granger would think of it. Would she mock him for being in the Muggle world? For almost becoming a part of the same thing that he had claimed to loathe since they had known each other? Would she look down on him?

Draco clenched his fists and tried to rid the thoughts from his mind. It didn't matter what Granger thought because she would never see this; she would never be part of this and he had to accept it. Even if there did come a point where he managed to get on level footing her, there was no chance she would let him bring her here... to his quiet place. To the part of him that was hidden beneath the dark and the ruined.

She would never know this part of him.

Draco breathed in the air and wondered if she had found her present on the doorstep this morning; whether she had waited for it... had anticipated it. Draco had not stuck around to see her reaction this time, he didn't need to.

He'd left her a simple package; something he wasn't even sure she would catch the meaning of.

Parchment and Spearmint Polo's.

Because he remembered everything she ever said. Noted it down in his memory and saved it for a rainy day.

He wished her a silent Merry Christmas as he faced the sky, and apparated back to his Flat; feeling the need to draw what he thought would be the expression on her face when she found her gift, whispering 'Merry Christmas' with the ghost of a smile on her face.

2006 – Six Months Ago

Draco panicked.

He knew it was now imminent that The Dark Lord was going to try and wipe out the Mudblood race, and take Hermione Granger with it. She was still on his hit list due to some information that must have been important. Draco knew that the plan would be moving in soon, and he was at his wits end with what to do.

They just needed to survive this war. Get through these murky times and then live peacefully, whether that be together or apart. As long as she was safe, he didn't care. If she was safe then he had done his job and the death of his parents had not been for nothing.

In his desperation, Draco did the one thing he always said that he would not to; reach out to the enemy. Call out with a white flag to the other side...become a rat. But the things he had done so far to try and keep this girl safe had turned his world upside down, so what was one more thorn to his crown?

Draco made a connection easier than expected; half wondering if he was falling into a trap. He didn 't care though, he just wanted her safe. As long as she was kept safe, nothing else mattered.

He was told 7pm via his floo network. A conversation needed to be had by a ranking Order member; someone with the power to do something. Draco just hoped that he was believed and that The Order would do what was necessary to keep the girl safe.

He didn't bank on George Weasley's head popping out of his fireplace, eyeing him intently and with much Sceptism.

"Let's make this quick." Weasley told him harshly. "I don't even know if we can trust you. This had better be worth-while Malfoy because –"

"They're after Granger." Draco interrupted with a snarl.

George raised an eyebrow. "They?"

"Death Eaters... The Dark Lord has a plan-"

"Aren't you a Death Eater?" George asked him mockingly. "You're part of them-"

"Do you want my fucking information or not Weasley?" Draco almost bellowed, feeling anger prickling his senses. "I'm telling you to keep Granger safe because they want her."

"How do I know this isn't-"

"Oh, for fucks sake..." Draco groaned, feeling frustrated and running a hand through his hair. "If you lot don't fucking do something then I will! I'll keep her here myself if I have to! Just take my advice, please..."

George Weasley studied him seriously for a second within the flames. "What do they have planned for her?" he asked, finally willing to listen.

Draco visibly untensed himself. "She's got important information that The Dark Lord doesn't want her using, I assume ..." Draco started. "He wants her and he wants impure blood families wiped out ... he'll start it soon."

Weasley looked deep in thought. "I need leverage, Malfoy. I'm sorry, but you can't expect me to believe that you're willing to help The Order by giving us information, just because of Hermione Granger ... there's got to be some other –"

"There is no other reason." Draco finished for him indignantly. "I'm telling you this so that you can keep her safe... keep her out of the way while all of this is going on..."

"She must be important." George mused.

"She is." Draco replied quietly. "Whatever information she has in that bloody big brain of hers could possibly be something The Dark Lord fears ... it could be his undoing."

"I meant to you." George smirked through the flames and Draco glowered. "I saw the way you looked at her at the Yule Ball ... even Fred said he was surprised you didn't trip over your own tongue that night."

Draco shook his head and bit his lip. "Piss off Weasley, can we just concentrate on the matter at hand please?"

He heard Weasley chuckle slightly. "Fine, but I still need leverage from you Malfoy, we need to know we can properly trust you."

Draco sighed in frustration. "I'm giving you inside information... practically being a fucking mole...what more leverage could you possibly –"

"An unbreakable vow, Malfoy." George told him in a deadpan tone. "I think you were right; you can keep her safe with you. No one will suspect anything; least of all from you... I hear you're quite the recluse now, not even really a part of our world anymore in your private time."

Draco took a few breaths. How the fuck did they know that? Was the Prophet still spewing its bile about him? His anger was mingling with anxiety now at the thought of his daydreams coming true ... keeping her safe with him. "Fuck off Weasley." Draco started, "You're too trusting to think that I wouldn't –"

"You wouldn't hurt her." George butted in. "You wouldn't have broken rank and come to us if you didn't want her safe." Weasley gave him a pointed look. "... take the vow to protect her at all costs and we can keep her safe with you until the threat has passed."

Draco huffed. "It's a lot to ask of a Death Eater."

George kept looking at him. "You were seen on multiple occasions, Malfoy ..." he started, and Draco's blood froze. "...always in the background...always watching. You were never stunned because we wanted to watch you ... see what you were doing ... why you were doing it ..."

Draco swallowed thickly, feeling shame prickle the back of his neck. Shit ... he thought he had been so careful.

"She loved the gifts, by the way..." George told him pointedly. "You warmed her heart with those... very nice touch. "

Draco sneered. That was private...

"I often wondered why you had so much interest ... but then the light in your eyes told me everything I need to know, just like the desperation in your body language is telling me now."

Draco frowned. "And what exactly am I telling you?"

Weasley smirked. "You're in love with her."

Draco felt the Earth spin on its axis. It wasn't love; it had never been love. It was obsession and possession ... Draco Malfoy didn't know love. He knew anger and pain and hard, rough fucking ... love was a faraway notion that didn't concern him.

"Deny it all you want." George sniffed, sounding bored. "Just take this vow and we'll discuss the when's and the what ifs at a later point, when you get us more information."

Draco shook his head. "No more information; I could already be killed for this."

"Step between the lines Malfoy ... do the right thing." Weasley smirked at him again. "Be the hero Hermione won't see coming."

"For fucks sake..." he breathed out. "You're intolerable..."

"Take the vow and keep her safe. You've been watching over her for long enough already..." Georges voice was quiet now against the crackling of the flames. "You never know, she might even warm to you..."

Draco snorted. "Highly unlikely," he ran a hand through his hair again. "And she wouldn't come quietly either; I'd have to pretend I'd kidnapped her or something ... make her trust me slowly until I can explain-"

This time it was George who laughed. "You'll explain nothing. Make her think you're a monster if you have to; she will not know that The Order have given you permission to do this ... she'll never forgive any of us."

This didn't settle well with Draco. Weasley wanted him to not tell her why she was with him or why he couldn't let her out after she had calmed down? He couldn't tell her the ins and outs of anything? Kept in the dark the whole time? ... fuck ... she really would hate him. Could he make that sort of sacrifice to make sure she was safe?

"This is fucking ridiculous." Draco announced. "Make myself look like even more of a monster to her, just so she can't see through the lies keeping her with me?"

"Your choice, Malfoy ..." George told him seriously. "But you were right; she's far safer with you... out of the way in the middle of nowhere... no one would come looking for her."

The bastard was right, of course.

He would be a monster to her, but she would be safe.

2006 – Four Months Ago

The Forest of Dean; Draco's chosen place. He found it significant ... like it was the right place to start something new... something that would change his life.

Hands bound together and the magic bound them tighter.

A promise to keep her from harm. A promise to always keep her safe. A promise to never tell her what had transpired ... and a promise that he would continue to protect her, even if The Order fell.

Draco felt like he had given his life for Hermione Granger.

And he didn't mind it so much.

2006 – three Months Ago

It was time.

Draco could feel himself held above the pit of despair in the days leading up to it. The loneliness of his flat was finally starting to engulf him and he could feel himself slowly losing his grip on reality ... there was only obsession left.

He was drinking more. He found it helped to ease the burden of what he was about to do. He had discussed it with Weasley... partly, anyway.

He had to scare her. Really scare her and create a world where she would think she was the prisoner of the big bad Death Eater. She would hate him and it would kill him, but he had to do what was necessary ... he couldn't tell her the truth. Unless she found out on her own, of course...

He was going to find it so hard to touch her and not want to feel how soft her skin was. It was going to kill him to get up close and person with her and not want to put his hands in places that he shouldn't. And what if she reacted to him? What if she attacked him or cried at him? ... it would break him.

But then, he was used to it rough ... he could just pretend... pretend and then get fucking carried away in a daydream where she reacted to his touch and wanted what he could give her. And what did he do then? He couldn't give in ... fuck... he would want to give in so badly.

But she wouldn't cave because she didn't want him. And she would hate him after this...

Draco knew that he had drank too much. He felt himself dizzying as he apparated to the spot that Weasley had told him to be in ... but as he got there, he didn't count on Dolohov already standing there, watching her for himself.

Everything had already been pre-planned with Weasley. He had sent Granger on to the frontline of the field so Draco had her in plain sight. The plan was for Draco to stun her and take her... until Dolohov fucked with his plans.

Draco knew Dolohov had plans for Granger. He had discussed at length with a few of the others how he was going to take her, torture the fuck out of her and leave her begging for death at The Dark Lord's hands. Draco had felt sick hearing it.

Now, his brain addled by alcohol, Draco wasn't quite sure how to attack the situation. He just knew that he needed to get Granger out of there before Dolohov did...so he did the only thing a coward could do;

He waited for Dolohov to stun Granger, before stunning him from behind -without him knowing... he wasn't that fucking stupid – and then making a run for it before he was spotted and hexed.

When Draco approached her, he held his breath. She was covered in mud and the blood of other people. Fuck ... still hauntingly beautiful.

As Draco apparated them back to his flat, he realised that his actions that followed were likely now to destroy them both. Destroy her like she destroyed him... destroyed his mind.

Draco just hoped that he could keep his emotions in check ... prayed that he could. If he couldn't then she really was going to hate him for the monster that he was.

He just had to not touch her ... hope that the girl would not provoke him into doing something they would both regret ...

Fuck ...

He was fucked.

He loved her.