Author's note; I probably owe all the people who read this before a huge appology. I adopted this story from OnceUponADecember/Han and I planned to continue it. I posted the two chapters then left it for 2 weeks. Now I have decided to change things up again. So I appologise for that, as well as for not updating for ages. This now means the story is heading in a different direction and set at a totally different time. Sorry again for the confusion.

So basically, this story has been published in parts as 'Sinfull Love' and 'Seven Sins, Seven Virtues'. Now however, it is 'The Blindside' and shall remain so, but is based on the same sorts of principles. It'll make sense further through, I promise. Due to the fact chapter one was actually written by Han, I wanted to keep it the same as I could, but because the time and plot have changed, I've had to take bits out and add bits in, but I've tried my hardest to keep it as true to what it really was.

Anyway, sorry for the mess ups, and hope you enjoy =D

Disclaimer; I do not own Harry Potter in any way, shape or form. Also, the original concept for this story belongs to OnceUponADecember. I guess I get whats left (:

Introduction; This story is set directly after Battle of Hogwarts, and litteraly takes off from after the chapter 'The Flaw in the Plan.' However, chapter one is more of a prolouge as sorts for the story which takes place 5 years later.

Blindside - 1. To hit or attack on or from the blind side. 2. To catch or take unawares, especially with harmful or detrimental results.

Chapter 1:
Mercy

Mercy - Associated with the virture of patience. Compassionate treatment, especially of those under one's power; clemency....

She sat on the stone step, her shoulders shuddering and her bottom lip trembling. Her body had curled into itself, her chin resting on her knees and her arms tightly hugging her knees to her heaving chest. Her eyes, those molten brown eyes, glistened with burning tears. The tears fell one by one down her grimy cheeks; her eyes were bloodshot and filled with pain. A hand held itself over her mouth, unsuccessfully trying to muffle the heart-wrenching sobs that tore from her throat. Her Muggle clothes were filthy and torn, and her wand lay forgotten on the cold, hard floor. She mumbled now and again, incoherent words that didn't make sense when put into a sentence together. Her curls surrounded her face, knotted and matted and several shades darker with dirt.

Yet she was still beautiful to him.

"Hermione," he whispered the name familiar on his tongue. Not because he was allowed to call her as such, but because it was what he called her in his mind every time he had to call her a Mudblood, it was what he called her in his dreams. The name had become so familiar to him. It was so beautiful, too. Just like the one it belonged to. Hermione hadn't even noticed he had whispered her name, so caught up in her grief. It killed him to see her in such a state, and yet, he had hurt her so many times in the past that he should be used to it by now.

She sat around rumble. Chunks of brick and mortar lay scattered around her. Draco felt his stomach knot – he had been a part of it; a part of all of it.

"Hermione," he said again, this time a little louder. She looked up at

He pressed his lips into a thin line at the thought of Hermione-his Hermione-crying and in pain - partly due to himself and his actions and choices. It made him feel sick in the pit of his stomach.

A loud sob, louder than the rest, snapped his wandering mind back to attention, focusing on the problem at hand. Why hadn't anyone come to comfort her? Where was Potter? He always boasted about protecting those he cared for, so why wasn't Potter there with his precious Hermione now? Had the glory of winning been too much for him? Draco didn't want to leave her in such a state, but what if he accidentally gave away his hiding place in the shadows? Would they bicker and throw insulting comments to each other as always?

Or would he finally get her to open up to him?

He thought about it for a second. Perhaps, if he approached her in the most non-threatening way possible, perhaps she might just open up. Even if it was only for tonight...

However, he wasn't stupid or delusional. He knew Hermione wasn't going to believe he had a good side at first, never mind trust him straight away, and with good reason, too. He had been nothing but mean to her for more than six years, he had been the first one to call her a Mudblood, but he was a patient man. He could wait and slowly win the heart of his beautiful bookworm. He was going to make up for everything he had put her through in the last six years.

His mind was set. He couldn't wait for her any longer. And it was the perfect opportunity, too. She was alone, vulnerable and in need of comfort.

And he was more than willing to give it to her.

He watched Hermione shiver from the cold draft in the old hallway and took off his old house cloak, a dark colour with silver outlining the hem of his cloak and his neckline; the cloak itself was pure black with the Slytherin house crest on the left breast. The material was soft to the touch; extremely expensive. Draco knew it probably wouldn't provide much warmth, due to the fact it was well worn and had several large rips, but somehow he hoped this would be the best way to approach her.

He walked with a cautious step towards her shaking form, his walk so different from his usual confident, almost arrogant, stride. His footfalls echoed quietly with each step but Hermione never looked up. She either didn't care if someone was coming or was still too caught up in her sorrow to notice. Her face was twisted into one of pain; it was an expression he never wanted to see on her perfect face ever again. He licked his suddenly dry lips as he came to a stop before Hermione and held his cloak out in front of him, holding it by its collar. He took a deep breath and tried to make his facial expression as welcoming as possible, something he hadn't done in a long time. Only now, realizing the effort it was taking to make himself look friendly, did he realize he hadn't done so in a long time. In this last year, he hadn't tried to be happy. Happy had been for the feint hearted – or so he had thought.

Fear, pressure and worry had plagued him for so long Draco couldn't remember the last time he smiled or laughed.

He gently placed his cloak around her quivering body and his eyes softened for a moment as he watched her form become engulfed in his cloak. He hadn't realized she was so much smaller than himself.

The moment the cloak draped over her body, Hermione jumped, a shocked gasp escaping her trembling lips. Her head instantly snapped up and her pained eyes met his own guarded eyes. He watched her body lock into place and her expression immediately turned from shock to embarrassment and finally settled on horror, and he knew it was at the thought of him being here and seeing her at her weakest, despite only hours ago being in her element. He always knew what she was thinking.

"Malfoy," Hermione hissed as she shrugged off his cloak with a disgusted, "Ugh!" and quickly scraped her grimy sleeve across he cheeks, absorbing the

"Granger," Draco nodded to her, and picked up his rudely discarded cloak. He handed it back to her as she finished rubbing her eyes with the palm of her hands and she stared for a moment, dumbfounded by the kind gesture, then leveled him with what he guessed to be her most deadly glare that did nothing but amuse him. He watched her open her mouth to speak, and close it again. She did this a few more times until she gave up on emotion, and spoke in a defeated voice he hadn't heard before.

"What do you want, Malfoy-" he hated it when she called him that "It's over and I have nothing to do with what goes on for the rest of it. Voldemort is dead, the Death Eaters have fled, Auror's are on their way, I don't really know what –"

"I don't want anything, Granger." Draco mused.

Hermione had taken to standing up half way through her little rant. She was so close to Draco and he vaguely noticed her head did not even reach his chin. Her face was blushing a flattering rosy red under the grime and her eyes were puffy and bloodshot from crying. Her face was twisted into a snarl but her lip and chin still trembled slightly. Her knees wobbled, her chest heaved and her body slouched, tired from crying or fighting, probably both. It was obvious to Draco she was in no mood to fight. But Hermione Granger was a stubborn young woman.

" – and I'm tired, and stressed, and in an horrific need of a shower. I cannot actually remember the last time I washed, or even attempted to comb my hair for that matter, so really, if you want something, please take it up with someone else."

"I don't want anything." He repeated coolly.

"Harry would be the best person to talk to if you have a problem, but I'm not sure it would be a good idea. Probably Kingsley. Although I'm not sure if he's coming because now he is Minister of Magic of course, and considering the role you've played -." Hermione finally looked up at him, right into the cool steel grey of his eyes and her voice faded.

It only occurred to her now – the part Malfoy had played. Arguably it wasn't really a part, to the best of her knowledge, when she had been at Malfoy Manor, he had saved Harry. Partly. He had feigned ignorance to it being Harry, but she remember what he had been asked if she was 'the Granger girl.' She remembered his answer. It had been mumbled, muttered and said to get out of the situation. But she had remembered it so clearly; I…maybe…yeah.

She knew he had said it grudgingly and unwillingly, but it had been said all the same. Herione didn't blame him for it, far from it.

Draco could almost see the cogs turning in her brain and clicking into place when she realized the full extent of the role he played. He inwardly kicked himself and visibly flinched. He was no longer the proud, arrogant descendant of Salazar Slytherin; he was a young boy who made tried to play with the big boys and had gotten tossed aside when it went wrong. He had made the wrong choices and he knew it.

He knew not whether to laugh at the irony, or to cry at the horrific situation. It would be the latter, he decided, just not in front of Hermione,

Instead, he tried to keep his cool, and continued. "You're cold, Granger. So shut up and use my rare act of kindness to its full advantage." While not the sweetest answer, Draco didn't want to come on too weak too soon.

Take it one step at a time. He reminded himself. Thought where he was planning on taking this he wasnt really sure.

Draco could see Hermione readying herself for snappy comeback, but when she opened her mouth, nothing came out. She blinked up at him cutely before sighing, her shoulders slumping in time with the tired sigh and she closed her mouth. She gently, hesitantly, reached for the cloak offered to her and tugged it lightly from his hands and wrapped it around her shoulders. She sat heavily back down on the chipped stone step and muttered to him, "I don't know what you are trying to pull, Malfoy, but I'm really not in the mood. If you have any ounce of decency in you, you will wait a good few hours before you mock and torment me."

Draco rolled his gray eyes at her and sat down, uninvited, next to her on the step, frowning as the cold stone froze the lower half of his body instantly.

"If I wanted to... mock and torment you, as you put it, don't you think I would have done it by now, Granger?" Draco enquired, smirking down at her as she eyed him warily.

Hermione blinked once again, her expression one of wonder as she whispered, "I know what you want."

Draco tilted his head slightly to the side in a questioning manner, a perfectly arched eyebrow lifting in amusement. "And what do I want," he asked, his voice holding its usual sneer, but somehow, it seemed softer to Hermione, and Draco also realized this. It also held a slight quiver.

"You want me to try and get you off. For whatever charges they bring against you. You want me to testify."

He tore his face away from her honey eyes and stared at the dusty stone beneath his feet. He couldn't bear to look at her for shame and closed his eyes tightly. Draco knew he hadn't intentionally come down to see her to ask her this, but he knew it must have been a factor. Tears of shame and unshed emotions he could not name burned behind his eyelids. Crying in front of Granger, how times had changed.

Neither spoke, they did not need words. After a few minutes, Hermione looked up at him. His face was still bent, and she could have sworn she saw a wet streak down his cheek.

"Draco," she whispered. He looked up at her, the streak wiped away so fast and pulled off so casually, it looked like he'd just brushed his hair out of his eyes, but the redness around his eyes gave him away. "I will."

He nodded. A 'thank you' burned on his lips, but wouldn't come out. He nodded again. And turned to look away again when she continued, "and I'll ask Harry and Ron to as well, though I can't speak for them, but I'll testify for you." She gave him a small smile, and huddled tighter into his cloak.

Some part of him made him need to say something, to make sure she knew he wasn't using her. "I didn't come here to ask you that, you know, Hermione."

She gave him a crooked smile, "why did you then?"

Draco shrugged a shoulder and answered, "Crying females have always been a weakness of mine."

"You are aware you just told me a weakness of yours which I can now use against you?" She smirked in her best Malfoy impression.

Draco shrugged again and waved his hand in a flippant manner. "I doubt you could hardly do much with that little secret, Granger."

"True, true. But then it depends on the circumstance I suppose. Just you wait and see, I'll find a way." She smirked again playfully. Draco found himself smiling back at her and he laughed a small laugh.

Draco ran his hand carelessly through his hair, a habit he picked up during the time the Dark Lord had taken over his house. Weather brushing away his fears or trying to create a new style, he knew not, but it relaxed him.

"So, why are you out here anyway?" He asked gently. Every accusation and threat that had left either of their lips over the past 6 years seemed to have been discarded, and he was already going to Hell after everything he had done with the Dark Lord, so he might as well go down in style.

"Just wanted some alone time." She said, trying to sound light, but he knew her better than she thought. Draco had been watching her for such a long time, even when he was sent out to kill Dumbledore, he had watched her. She had been his angel in the crowds, even if she had not noticed. He thought back to the Yule Ball. He had never seen Hermione cry so long and hard before, and it was all Weasley's fault. He had heard everything the Weasel had accused her of. And Krum too, he was no better. Kiss then ditch? Oh, yes, he knew all about the little kiss on the lips they had shared at the end of the Ball. Then he thought back to all the times he'd called her a Mudblood, and all the tears he had watched her secretly shed at pain he had caused her.

"That isn't the tip of the unicorn's horn is it Granger? I can see it the way you're crying."

"And how would you know that?" Hermione snapped. There was no fear in her eyes.

"Because I watch you."

It wasn't until after he had said it he realized those four words sounded extremely perverted and sounded like something a stalker would say. And by the look on Hermione's face, she felt the same way. "You... watch me." She said a look of loss on her face. He realized; she had no idea what to say next.

"I mean," he tried to amend, but he realized the only way he could try to make her see what he really meant was by admitting he liked her. Why else would he watch her?

Hermione sniffed and watched him with a keen eye as she asked slowly, as though contemplating whether she should really be asking him, "Malfoy...why would you want to watch me?"

Draco ran a hand through his hair again, not feeling relaxed as he had done before, so settled for repeating the action several times, each time more forcefully, as though about to rip the hair out of his scalp. A frustrated Hermione reach out and grabbed his wrist and pulled it away from his head to his lap, but she didn't let go.

"It's not in a weird way…or anything." He muttered. "I guess I just pay more attention than most, to you…sometimes."

Before he could change his mind, his hands left his side and her hand and cupped her face so tenderly he believed for a moment that someone else was grasping her face in such a loving hold. But it was him holding her precious face so gently, it was his thumbs carefully wiping away her tears before they could fall, it was him making her blush that flattering colour red under the dirt as it gently spread from her small, perfect nose to her smooth cheeks. It was a side of him neither had seen before.

When the situation caught up with his mind, the desire he held for her came back with a vengeance, gripping his heart tightly and darkening his eyes. His breathing became heavy and his eyes wandered down to Hermione's lips. His breath hitched, he had never wanted anything as much as he wanted Hermione right now. He didn't want to wait any more; he had waited far too long and gone through far too much to waste this opportunity that he had dreamed about so many times.

Hermione's voice quivered, but this time Draco was sure it wasn't out of fear. "M-Malf-" Before she could even finish his name, his lips crashed against her own in a desperate attempt to keep Hermione from thinking too much. He had to make her see she desired him as much as he desired her. His hands grasped her face in a firmer hold and pressed her impossibly close to his body. He could feel her relax into the kiss, and it made his heart soar. He shivered as he felt her hands slowly wrap around his waist and she pressed herself against him, his tattered cloak slipping off her shoulders to the floor. He tilted his head slightly for better access to her lips and his fingertips curled around the back of her head, gently playing with her soft locks. He greedily kissed her, his tongue roughly caressing and dancing with her own

They would have to come up for air soon, but Draco didn't want the kiss to end. It was everything he had ever thought it would be and more. Now that he knew how absolutely incredible she tasted, he never wanted to stop.

But then Hermione pulled away, and they gasped for breath. Draco missed her taste already; he needed to taste her again so badly. He buried his face in her neck; his lips pressed into the silky skin of her shoulder, satisfied he could catch his breath and taste her at the same time.

Draco felt Hermione's chest heaving against his and as the haze of the desire he had felt moments before left his mind, he slowly began to realize how right it felt to have her in his arms. His heart fluttered and twisted in ways he couldn't imagine as he felt her breathing against the pale skin of his neck.

He kissed the hollow of her color bone, once, twice, a third time the gently leaned back. She opened her mouth to say something, but words wouldn't form.

"Hermione?" A voice called, and the two sitting on the step whirled around. Harry stood on the top step looking down on them.

Hermione stumbled to her feet, almost falling down the rest of the steps had Draco not caught her by the elbow in standing up himself.

"Yes, H-Harry?" She asked, her voice shaking and sounding several octaves higher than usual.

Harry looked down at them both, a frown forming on his face. He walked down towards them, jumping over the missing fourth step. His frown deepened when his thoughts were confirmed that Malfoy had been sitting next to Hermione.

He decided to forget that Malfoy was present, unsure why the Slytherin was there at all, and turned directly to Hermione. "Ron and me have been looking all over for you. Officials from the Ministry are coming, Kinsley too, to sort everything out." Harry had more to say, but did not want to continue in front of Malfoy.

"Alright," Hermione said pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "I'll be up in a minute ok?" She tried her best to smile, and hoped it didn't look too much like a grimace. Harry gave her a small smile, turned his gaze to Malfoy who was looking pointedly away, then began to make his way back up the steps.

Once the footfalls had fallen away, Hermione slumped back down onto the step, unsure of what to do now. But feeling the cold now without the cloak, despite it being a bright May morning, she picked it back off the floor and wrapped it around herself.

Draco knew he should say something. Weather about the kiss, or her offer to testify, or something about the war that had just taken place, he knew not. But thankfully, she relieved him of that.

She stood tall and turned to him, her chin up, Always the Gryffindor, he couldn't help but think.

"Take a plea of mercy, and I'll testify, you have my word. I'll ask Harry and Ron too, and they'll show up if they decide to I suppose."

"A plea of mercy." He agreed and nodded.

Hermione smiled a crooked smile and turned away to walk back up the steps. She had taken one pace when she turned and made to hand him back his cloak.

"No," he protested, bushing it away. "Keep it, I don't need it."

"Thank you." She said, smiling again, and began walking up the steps.

"Granger." He called, finally finding his courage. She turned. "Thank you." She nodded once and turned away and disappeared through the door.

"A plea of mercy." He murmured quietly, his knees giving way collapsed onto the step. Now the tears streamed down his cheeks easily. His body shook silently. "A plea of mercy." He repeated. He didn't even have to swallow his pride anymore. It had died a long time ago. Now Fear came and sat down beside him, draping an arm around his shoulder, looking out at the view, and settled down for as long as it would take for the Ministry to take them both to Azkaban, and then Fear would invite Misery, and then what a party they would have.

Ivy Pseudonym

12th September, 2010