*Stay tuned for my A/N at the end, please. This is the final chapter.

"Murder to the mind
Blood on my hands
Fire in my soul"

"Murder on my mind" - Tash Sultana

Hermione's eyes fall on Draco.

He's slightly bent over, hands on his knees, agitated and puffed as if wounded. She didn't think it would happen so quickly, but the reality of the fact is, tonight he's lost two fragments of his soul. He's incomplete, suffering, and significantly weaker. She knows not to be trusting of this, though. Malfoys are skilled in the art of deceiving...manipulating. She can't help the feeling he is up to something.

It's almost as though he knows the exact moment she thinks him weak, because his eye's shift from the ground to her in half a second.

"Worried about me, Granger? I'm touched," states Draco not-so-modestly.

Hermione frowns at the implication; she couldn't be further from it.

Realising the seriousness of the situation has her on edge, but she doesn't dare show it. Rising from Theo, Hermione gently levitates his body out of harm's way. Her feet are grounded as she feels the energy of her magic flowing through her in violent waves. It's the calm before the storm.

Hermione takes one solid step toward him, tucking the bloody dagger in the back pocket of her jeans.

"Now's not the time to fall apart, darling," chimes Hermione mockingly. It's time she shows relentless strength. She can mourn Theo's death after she escapes.

Draco is truly entertained by the witch standing metres before him. It's as though she is zeroing in on her target, and he, the ever patient bullseye smack bang in the centre of it all, is waiting for her to strike.

"Nows not the time to drop your guard, darling ," modulates Draco coldly, completely opposite to the signs of fragility he's showing.

Hermione recognises this, trying to analyse him - knowing that whatever happens from now on is survival on her part or a hefty life sentence to slavery.

"Are you afraid?" she asks confidently while stepping toward him, further, with her fingers clasped tightly around her wand. If he so much as flinches, she'll strike him.

Draco's brows jump at her insult, implying he's amused. His facial features curl into a wicked smirk.

Hermione is curious in response to his apparent lack of words.

"You should be," she deadpans impassively.

Draco chuckles mercilessly at her, raising his body sharply with a sense of pride. His breathing is harsh, representing some sort of physical struggle, but he refuses to let any other signs show.

The hallway in the Malfoy manor is stuffy despite it being only two of them there. It definitely has to do with the watchful eyes of the Malfoys surrounding them. Every portrait is full now.

Hermione is watching Draco with great interest, wondering how she should approach this. Her plans had always assumed a confrontational end, but nothing has gone to plan regardless, and she is definitely a little shaken about the loss of Theo. Her eyelids flutter, reflecting the raw pain she is feeling.

The silence is the room is as deafening as the air is thick. Draco's eyes are trained on her watching him. His ego oozes in superiority and authority, and he cements his control by taking a step toward her.

"You seem to be under the false pretense that I will let you leave ," interjects Draco.

Hermione raises her wand defensively, the only safe guard she has to protect herself besides her mind.

"Quite the contrary," she snaps in protest.

"Oh? Do enlighten me, Granger," says Draco flippantly, his head tilting inquisitively at her.

"Well I, for one, plan on leaving here. That's a given," she exclaims.

"So fierce. So strong," retorts Draco. "I admit I enjoy your resistance. Makes it more rewarding when I overwhelm you." He doesn't linger on his thoughts or risk another minute of her freedom. The words leave his lips immediately.

"Brachiabindo."

Hermione swipes her wand to counteract it effortlessly.

"Emancipare!"

Draco's attack is blocked - it's a major blow to his pride...

The potion she previously ingested is pumping through her veins, and she feels untouchable and victorious having blocked his advances for the first time in a long time.

Draco grows impatiently, wordlessly double casting - "Confundo! Imperio!"

Hermione uses her initiative the moment she blocked his limb binding curse. She shields herself with a variety of spells, not letting it deter her from the fact that, until she gets out of here, she's not safe.

Her confidence is dislodged by distraction, however, when Draco seeks her more ferociously without little thoughts or fears of doubt.

Draco struts with confidence, his grey eyes glinting without a shadow of doubt. All of a sudden, it's as though he's sipped the elixir of life. His presence, although domineering, appears somewhat godly . He's ambitious and dutiful to attain his goal.

Hermione suppresses her confusion. She's puzzled by his apparent strength and guarded more than ever. Her mannerisms are nothing short of assertive.

"Take one more step closer, touch me...and I'll kill you."

He scoffs, sneering in delight at her. She is fueling his desire.

"Whats mine is mine, darling."

Draco catches her off guard, and next thing she knows, her wand is in his hand...her wrists and ankles are bound. Her feet aren't touching the floor... The only support holding her body upright is the magic planting her back firmly to the wall behind her, the binds incarcerating her have her arms spread out like a starfish and her legs spread eagled. She gulps. The lump of nerves in her throat sits there, blocking her esophagus. Hermione struggles to breath as the ball anxiety in her throat grows.

Draco is directly in front of her, simply breathing her in. He's annoyed he can't sense her fear.

"You're not untouchable now, Granger," he drawls with a hint of excitement.

He reaches out to brush her cheek fondly with the back of his left knuckles, nudging her face in an attempt to restore her fear, but she doesn't flinch.

"It's cute you think you have a choice," he delivers icely while sliding his right hand between her thighs, cupping her ridge, holding it possessively.

"This is mine," he utters with a business-like ownership of her pussy as he rubs her. His actions are neurotic and urgent, but that doesn't surprise her.

"Let's get back to the basics. Back to our original roots," he winks. "This," he begins massaging the mound between her legs, "doesn't have to be all sadistic and methodical. Or does it?"

Hermione's head turns away from him. His knuckles slowly slide down to her chin, almost seductive. His hand flips around, fingers curling into a grip around her chin, forcing her head front on so she can't escape his gaze. No matter how much her life depends on it, she can't escape him. He won't let her.

Draco leans into her, yanking her face away from him so he can feel her skin. His cheek glides along hers before trailing his mouth along her jawline - brushing his lips across hers with his grip tightly holding her jaw. He bites her bottom lip, tugging on it with his teeth vigorously, drawing blood from the ever so plump and luscious, fleshy parts of her mouth.

The moment his lips leave hers, Hermione spits on his face with disgust. If he is a fire, she is dancing in his flames.

He winces at her vulgarity.

Draco plants his hands either side of her, leaning into her ear. His voice is abrupt, hostile, and full of evil intent.

"We've always played dirty, Granger. Why would today be any different?"

Chills run down her spine, but she keeps her cool, level-headed self.

"I was just warming up, Malfoy."

"Warming up? I highly doubt that. If you want to feel the heat, I know how to warm you up, Granger," he taunts.

Draco's right hand glides under her shirt making its way up to her right breast. He cups her, squeezing and massaging it roughly; his other hand is holding her waist possessively, his fingertips caressing the skin of her hips. He moves his body closer to her. Although they are vertical, it's body on body. The only thing separating them is their clothing. He leans his face into her collarbone, planting kisses and licking the base of her neck...trying to taste her, but she's spoiled. All he can taste is the contamination from Theo.

A surge of anger rises in him, and he grunts in frustration. He releases her breast and waist, immediately. The hand that was fondling her now strokes his face while he perplexes over an idea. Whatever conversation he's having in his mind, it's a difficult one, and his hand clenches into a fist and releases - several times.

She hates this. The feeling of helplessness. The unease. The unknowing. Hermione decides that her best bet now will be to go along with whatever he wants until a chance of escaping presents itself. That, or she can push his limits. Make him mad. Make him want to hurt her and, in the event of such punishments, she might find her chance. Since he told her to play dirty, that's exactly what she is going to do.

Hermione chuckles. She's tainted, and it affects him so. This is perfect, she thinks to herself. Using her wit, she taunts him.

"Hit me, then," she commands. "That's what you want. I've been a bad girl, and I need to be punished."

Draco's face lights up at the invitation.

"Well if you insist on begging for it, one can only oblige."

He follows his instincts by punching the wall beside her head, and she stays still, laughing mockingly at him, enjoying tormenting him.

"I don't believe in safe words, Draco. Don't hold back now. This is supposed to be punishment."

"Witch! Your fire turns me on, Granger. It really does. Its cute you think you have a choice; if I want to hurt you - I will. It's mother I don't want witnessing such atrocities."

"Atrocities."

He says it like he knows right from wrong, and it occurs to her he's just revealed a weakness.

He interrupts her thoughts once more.

"I could have you begging for death, If I wanted to," he carries on. "You'd like that wouldn't you? Easy way out like Nott ."

It appears he's playing the same game. Even after Theo's death, Draco still finds ways to burn her. Hermione scoffs.

"You'd like that wouldn't you," she responds cheekily with a grin - it wasn't a question. "I do agree, your dear mother shouldn't bare witness to such things. Can I suggest we take this downstairs? Back to your dungeon perhaps? We've a plethora of tools available," she winks.

Draco's eyes rake her body with a sense of ownership. It's as though she is his proud purchase, and he can't wait to get her home and "play" with his new toy.

"I'm not normally one for fair play, Granger. But I do agree: a change of scenery is needed."

Hermione tries to suppress the satisfaction she feels at the small victory. If his mother is his weakness, this is where it has to be done. She'll even smear his blood all over his mother's portrait if the opportunity arises.

Draco releases the spell binding her to the wall, and gravity pulls her to the floor. She lands with a loud thud. The impact of the fall causes her to twist her ankle, and she yelps in the pain of it. Gripping at her ankle, she barrels over, playing on the injury. Her other hand slides out the dagger from the back of her jeans, slipping it under her uninjured leg with ease to keep it close.

"Well I hope you don't expect me to walk after that," she says.

Draco's wand raises to do a swish and flick, but Hermione interrupts his concentration with a diversion.

"How're we supposed to play dirty if you've got the unfair advantage? Repair me. It's the least you can do."

Draco chuckles, knowing there's nothing innocent in her words.

"I'm not asking you to carry me, for fuck's sake," argues Hermione, all the while channeling her wandless magic, using the hand resting on her ankle to heal her sprain. She feels a slight tinge that makes her jolt, but the pain is gone.

"I bet your mother thought she raised a gentlemen," she presses.

Draco snaps, charging forward with his wand pointed at her. Her hand is still clenched around the handle of the dagger hidden under her leg as he nears her.

His patience wearing thin, he flicks his wand hand, and she feels her body thrust upwards, bringing her to a standing position. She is sure to keep the knife close to her, slipping her hand further behind her back while she pretends her ankle is giving her grief. She catches a glimpse of her wand in his pocket, but she doesn't linger on it, knowing that he is watching her - trying to read her.

Hermione "attempts" to limp forward and stumbles pathetically. Acting like a damsel in distress is nothing to be proud of, but it is enough for him, because a weak witch makes it all the more easier to get her to submit, and Draco loves a submissive woman.

He doesn't appear to have a change of heart. but before she knows it, he is summoning a chair, urging her to sit while he approaches her.

Hermione's exposed hand connects with his arm as he guides her back to the seat. In her haste, she's slightly collapsing into him and bringing her other hand around from behind her. The very hand gripping the dagger. Mentally, she makes a note to never stoop this low again. Of all the things she's done as of late, this hurts her pride the most. But it's life or death, and she wants to survive. And if she's going to get out of this alive, she has to be conniving. Theo's body can't stay here to rot. He deserves so much more.

In the commotion of her awkward diversion, Hermione slips her wand out of his pocket with the same hand gripping the dagger.

"It's crazy how quickly roles can be reversed," she mutters as she taps her wand on his back.

Ropes emit from it: winding effortlessly around him. With ease, she acquires his wand and steps away as the binds coil around his wrists, squeezing him so tight that the strength of them is like a boa constrictor leaving his skin to bruise and robbing him of the ability to breathe.

"Baby's got bite," he chokes. "Who would've thought?"

Hermione shields herself, working quickly to subdue him.

"My chains may no longer be around your soul, but you'll always belong to me," he jeers.

"Silencio," articulates Hermione.

She vengefully directs the tip of her wand to his mother's portrait. Draco's the reason for Theo's death. He needs to feel her wrath.

Draco's eyes are wide at the horror, and evidence of rage building within him is obvious.

"I'll always be his!" she avows pointing to Theo. "Imperio! "

A doe-like presence overwhelms Draco, and his features relax instantly.

"I admit there were times when I thought I'd never wound you," declares Hermione. "I can't even begin to tell you how happy this makes me."

She moves the dagger in her hand toward her face, tapping it against her chin thoughtfully. With slow, calculating steps she begins to circle him in a contemptuous manner.

"I know you never saw this coming, so I'll be quick. You've already taken enough of my precious time, Malfoy."

Hermione stops circling him at once, her direct gaze a mere inch from his.

"Don't move," she orders.

He doesn't, frozen solid in a glacial stance, submissively awaiting further instruction.

"What's a little fun without the death of the only remaining Malfoy in the Wizarding world?" she teases. "I could tear you apart, limb from limb first, for good measure, but I haven't the patience or the stomach."

Hermione pockets her wand. The only other object in her grasp is the tool she needs to take his life. Her hands leave her sides: curling, as if about to hug him but they merely seek to meet the middle of his chest. With both of her hands clutching the deadly weapon, she looks down on him while he's powerless, suddenly feeling guilty. She has an unspeakable understanding of their role reversal, and she's not particularly comfortable with the next step, but she needs the insurance. Reassurance will only be in his death . And death is only eminent if she does it. There's no one else here to help her.

She notices him twitch and see's his strength in the struggle to break through her imperious curse and her binds.

"Do you really think I'm going to give you the satisfaction of letting you break free? Malfoy, in a matter of seconds you'll be extinct, and I'll burn you to ashes. I'll personally pour your dust into the veil," she asserts.

Draco's lips curl to form an evil sneer.

"Cocky, aren't we," he states finding his voice as he overpowers her magic.

Within seconds, his wrists are pulling away from her binds, ropes falling off him in the process. He dives forward, and they break into a desperate struggle. Overwhelming her, she is slammed into the wall behind her, causing her to drop the dagger.

"Is this what it was supposed to feel like to die?" he questions mockingly.

Hermione slips her foot behind him, pushing back in the struggle. He trips - falling backwards and pulling her with him before they collapse into a pathetic heap on the floor. Hermione has the upper hand as she straddles him.

"I always liked it on top," she mocks. "Accio dagger!"

The silver dagger lands in her hand autonomously, and she drives the blade into his heart without a second thought.

"No, this is what it feels like to die," motions Hermione while she watches death take him.

Draco's chest floods with blood. His throat gargles while his mouth instinctively twitches open and closed, spurting crimson. It causes him to dribble uncontrollably as a result. His grey eyes begin to look dull and lifeless as he chokes; he is drowning in a sea of his own blood.

Please be dead.

Draco stares blankly ahead as the whites of his eyes turn to stone.

The choking ceases, as does the rise and fall of his chest. His existence is now but a mere memory as the rest of his body forms cracks, shattering like rock. The true power of the ancient dagger has effectively destroyed him. Draco remains in a collection of rubble, heaped into a pile of nothing.

Hermione raises shakily, struggling to find her feet.

"This is what freedom feels like," she declares.

She is finally free of his prison. Brokenhearted, scarred and bruised...her life is her own . They say time heals all wounds. Her scars will continue to fade, but the memories run deep. She will forever be in a prison of her wounds - parts of her destroyed by a ruthless monster may recover, but she has a chance to live, and for that, it's enough to keep on.

She looks over at Theo. "We did it," she cries.

A tear rolls down her cheek as she sobs, walking over to him. She crouches over his lifeless body, allowing her grief to overcome her. The silence is deafening, and the darkness is welcoming...she's been fighting for so long. Her eyes heavy, she falls victim to letting them rest. Her eyelids block her vision as she drifts into a restless slumber. It's not long before she falls into what felt like a dreamless sleep, but it isn't dreamless at all. Visions of her past haunt her in her sleep as she relives the ordeal over and over again. Her dreams play consecutively from beginning to end. His soul: destroyed, but the spirit of his memory lives on where she is most vulnerable - during her sleep. That is where he will always find her. This is how he can always hurt her. Because even in death, a Malfoy always gets what he wants...there's no escaping a Malfoy. For in dreams, we are fooled by the fantasy of a reality uncontrollable by fate. And that, in itself, is the true essence of a nightmare.

That is the power of his obsessive, compulsive love.

A/N: If you've made it to the end of OCL, firstly, I'd like to say thank you for joining me on this adventure. Your support means so much to me! It shocks me everyday as the views climb on this.

To those that have been reading from the sidelines - if you've enjoyed "Obsessive Compulsive Love" I hope you like it enough to leave a review telling me so. I would be so honoured if you thought of OCL next time there's a round of fic awards if you see it fit for nomination.

As for my ending...throughout writing this, I'd always had three endings in mind, but I was favouring one. This was "the one." I didn't want a typical ending where Draco keeps Hermione, and she falls victim to living her life as a captive. For once, I wanted her to escape. Not without a shit fight, obviously but I always wanted that for her. She deserves that. I feel like this is a pretty rare ending, and I pride myself of thinking outside the box, so I hope you can appreciate that it's something different. If I disappointed you, you're entitled to you opinion and I appreciate not hearing it, thank you.

To my amazing beta: "Mr Benzedrine," you have been nothing short of amazing. I don't think "thank you" could ever be enough. You reached out to me when I was 4 chapters into writing OCL, and offered to beta previous + new chapters. It was my lucky day. I've since learnt and continue to learn so much from you. I appreciate your honesty, friendship, and advice more than you'll ever know!

I'd also like to thank Mr Benzedrine for adding the line: "that is the power of his obsessive, compulsive love."

Don't forget you can find me on tumblr: "gryff-in-the-game." And facebook: "Gryff_inthegame."

Until next time.

Gryff_inTheGame x