These characters are copyright J.K. Rowling. All rights belong to her.

Chapter 1

How Embarrassing

His hands gentley carress the side of my cheek. They're cold. I can see my reflection behind his ice blue eyes. I can feel him starting to pull me closer. My mind begins to dart frantically back and forth. He's leaning closer and I can feel his breath on my face. His lips are practically on top of mine. His blonde hair is falling across his forehead making him look dashing and dangerous. He is dangerous. His lips are now pressed against mine tightly. He's kissing me and I realize how helpless I am. No, not only helpless. As he's kissing me I realize that I cannot move at all. I try to raise my hands to push him away but they won't listen. They're glued to my sides and my back and neck are stiff. My breath quickens and my eyes widen in horror. His hands tighten around my arms as his lips press harder into mine. He's pushing me back up against the cold stone wall, it's damp and uneven. A sharp rock is digging into my spine. My mind is the only thing really struggling. His hands are in my hair now, wrapped around the brown tangled waves in a fit of passion. His eyes are wild as he buries his pointed nose in my neck kissing down my coller bone. I can feel warm tears beginning to stream down my face. I can feel everything and do nothing. How could this happen. I can't remember how I got here.

"Oh Hermione..." He moans into my neck.

In fact, I can't remember anything about how I got here at all. And now, here I am, alone and completely unable to resist as Draco Malfoy tries to rape me.

2 weeks earlier

"Hermione!" The shout echoes across the courtyard as I turn to see Ron hurrying to catch up with me. I smile and slow my pace as he comes up beside me, breathing heavily. "I… was… I… had…" He struggles to catch his breath and I laugh. He stops trying to speak and smiles at me. How sweet, I think to myself, he ran all this way just to walk with me. Maybe he finally noticed my swaying curves and flowing hair…

"I was wondering if I could borrow your notes on Proffessor Snapes lecture on Stranglekelp and Earthroot potions?" He finally manages to get the words out. Instantly my face goes blank. And to think I thought he was running so hard just to walk with me. Of course he wants something. He always wants something, I doubt he's even my friend for the sake of friendship alone. I throw my backpack at him and run the other way in the direction of the library. He's still yelling after me but what he says is lost as I round the corner and run smack into someone standing beneath the shadows of the archway. It's like hitting a brick wall. I fall backward and hit my head against the cobblestone walkway. My vision blurs for a second and the wind is completely knocked out of me. I take in a painful breath as my hand reaches to the back of my head where a small bump is starting to form with a dull ache.

"You really should watch where you're going, Granger." A cold voice cautions from above. I squint my eyes as my vision begins to clear and find myself looking up into a pale pointed face of a semi-handsome blonde boy. "You could've hurt me." He smirks and leans down to grab my wrist and yank me, painfully, to my feet.

"Hurt... you...!" I'm not altogether surprized by his audacity and yet I wonder what kind of parents he must have had to be raised with such an uncaring, high-and-mighty attitude towards others. I ball my hands into tight fists as I feel the blood rush to my cheeks.

"Simmer, Granger," He grins that perfect grin. "You're so quick to anger these days… trouble with the Weasel perhaps?" My eyes widen with embarrassment. How could he know… Those ice blue eyes seeing straight through me.

"Shut up, Malfoy." As the words leave my lips I curse myself for uttering such a weak retort. The back of my head aches and I tell myself to leave before I let him make matters worse. I collect myself slowly and take a deep breath. "Don't you have some poor little first year to go torment?" His laugh is deep and rich filled with self love and pride. How I'd like to wipe it off his face. I push past him and continue on my way feeling sore and defeated. I'm such an idiot.