Author's Note: Hey guys! So I was originally not going to post these, but I figured I might as well, since I already have them on my computer in order. And I even had titles (not very good titles, just a warning) for them to serve as reminders for myself of what the flashbacks were. So, here they are! I separated them into chapters, because if they were just one chapter, it'd be pretty insanely long.

This first flashback is from Ch. 2, and it takes place (obviously) in their fourth year at Hogwarts.

And if you haven't already read Vengeance, you might want to read that instead of this. This is more of a collection. Vengeance is the actual story. Although I guess each of these flashbacks could stand on its own, sort of.

Disclaimer: Obviously, I do not own anything from Harry Potter.

Yule Ball

"Ron—you spoiled everything!" Hermione screamed up the stairs, tears leaking out of her eyes.

Ron and Harry rushed up the stairs and out of sight. Hermione watched them go and then sat on the steps, wiping at her tears. Her feet ached from dancing in her heels, and she removed them one at a time, still crying pathetically.

"Granger."

She looked up and saw the face she least wanted to see—no, the second least. Ron was the person she least wanted to see at the moment.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" she sniffed, trying to regain her composure.

"What happened to you? Got dumped by Krum? Or was it Potty and the Weasel?" Malfoy taunted.

"Go away," Hermione snarled, getting to her feet.

"What, no witty remarks today? No verbal sparring?"

"If you hadn't noticed, I'm not really in the mood for that right now." At least her tears had dried.

Hermione started walking up the stairs, but his hand caught hers, and she turned around to glare at him. Their faces were about level, but Malfoy was standing a step below her.

He smirked. "Aw, Mudblood's been dumped."

"Don't call me that," said Hermione through gritted teeth.

"Don't call you what, Granger? Mudblood?"

He looked at her innocently, and she couldn't take it anymore. She grabbed onto him, shoved him up against the side wall and started pounding his chest and shoulders.

"Ow—ow! What the—bloody hell—are you doing?" Malfoy shouted.

She kept pounding away at him until he restrained her hands. She was out of breath, and he was panting lightly too. She tried to free her hands, but his grip felt like a vice on each arm.

"Let go of me!"

"Where'd all that strength go? You practically threw me up against a wall right there," said Malfoy, twisting his head around slightly. "Now my neck hurts."

"Good," said Hermione, seething.

"You dirty little Mudblood, I'm going to make you pay."

"Oh yeah? How?"

His lips crashed down on hers, and she gasped at the sudden contact, trying to back away. Then his arms wrapped around her, and he spun them around, trapping her against the wall. The swift motion made Hermione dizzy, and she kicked out, trying to keep her balance. He supported her weight, lips never leaving hers.

She shoved at his chest, but he caught her arms again and pinned them to her sides as he trapped her back into his embrace. She tried to kick him, but realized too late that while she was trying not to fall, he had stepped between her legs. Feeling more desperate now, she wriggled her right arm out from its position and jabbed him in the ribs.

His lips finally left hers as he grunted in pain, but before she could take more than a few much-needed gasps of air, his mouth had covered hers again, and this time he'd caught her with her mouth open. His tongue slipped into her mouth, and she tried to back up, hitting her head against the wall.

Everything blurred, and she found herself responding, pressing her tongue against his, and finding the taste and feel of his tongue intoxicating. His arms slowly loosened around her, and his hands began to wander up and down her sides. She fisted both of her hands in his hair and held on tight.

No… no, no, no. What are you doing? a voice said in her head.

What, a girl can't relax every once in a while? I'm just going to relax and enjoy myself, Hermione thought back.

No! Enjoy myself? This is Draco Malfoy! His father is a Death Eater!

Oh, bugger off, she shot back at her conscience.

In the meantime, Malfoy had swept her up into his arms, still kissing her feverishly. When Hermione realized that her feet had left the ground—and she didn't realize it until they had already reached the top of the stairs—she pulled her lips away from his.

"Where—where are we going?" she asked worriedly.

"Does it matter?" Malfoy replied, his eyes filled with lust.

Hermione realized belatedly that her shoes were still on the steps and was about to ask Malfoy to put her down so she could get them when he touched his lips to hers again. She promptly forgot what it was that she wanted, too caught up in the maelstrom of new sensations coursing through her.

Then she was sitting on the edge of a desk, her legs spread apart, her dress hitched up around her waist. He was standing between her legs, still not letting up on her mouth, but she couldn't get tired of that taste—she just wanted more of these feelings, more of his touch, more of him.

His hands caressed her breasts through the fabric of her dress, making her moan gently. He kissed his way down her neck to her collarbone, and she whimpered. When his hands reached around her to start lifting her dress off, she gasped and caught them.

"No, please don't," she whispered.

He didn't seem put off in the least, his teeth nipping at her neck as he dragged his mouth back up toward hers. One of his hands slid up and stopped at the base of her neck, gripping the back of her neck firmly so she couldn't move her head away from his—not that she wanted to.

Then something poked her in that area, and she gasped, her attention drawn to his other hand. He had pushed her panties to the side, and now he was stroking up and down her folds. His lips had moved on to her earlobe, and she gasped as his finger touched a spot that seemed more sensitive than the rest of her.

"Oh, Merlin—do that again," she moaned.

"What, this?" he murmured, lightly grazing the spot again.

"Ohhh yes."

He rubbed across that spot a few times, and she couldn't hold back her moans. Then he pressed a finger up inside her, and she moaned in pleasure—she had never felt anything so intense, yet for some reason she felt that there could be so much more. She bucked her hips against him instinctively and felt the pleasure surge.

She looked at his face and noticed that there was a small smile playing around his lips.

"Malfoy, do something," she said, thinking that there had to be contribution from his side for that wonderfully delicious feeling to come back—he'd stopped touching that sensitive spot, and she was aching for him to touch it again.

"Granger, what do you want me to do? I don't know what to do now," he said, feigning ignorance.

"You bastard—"

"I wouldn't be insulting me if I were you."

His long finger thrust a bit farther inside her, and she cried out in pleasure, but still that aching need was there.

"Malfoy…" she hissed.

"Yes?" That damned finger wriggled a tiny bit, making her spasm against him.

"Malfoy, please."

She felt as if she was so close to something, but to what she had no idea.

He whispered in her ear, "I want to hear you beg, Granger. Beg me to fuck you."

Hermione bit her lip—hadn't she already said please?

"Please, Malfoy," she breathed, and his finger moved just a bit again. "Please, stop torturing me."

"That's not what I wanted to hear."

Then the finger was gone, and Hermione's breaths quickened. She tightened her arms around his neck so he couldn't back away and heard the words come out of her mouth in a breathy whisper.

"Malfoy, fuck me."

He smirked. "There you go."

Suddenly he was pushing away from her and walking across the room toward the door. Hermione was shocked for a moment, and then she ran past him, blocking the door. He cocked his head to the side, amused.

"What the hell, Malfoy?" she demanded. She was still aching for release, and her legs trembled a little. She was acutely aware of the wetness between her legs.

"I said I'd make you pay, and now you're paying," said Malfoy simply. "Get out of my way."

Hermione glared at him. "You—you—you conniving, slimy git!"

He took another step in her direction, and she jumped on him, making him stagger backwards. Allowing her desperate need to dictate her actions, she latched onto his mouth and kissed him furiously, arms wrapped around his neck and legs twisted around his waist. She felt something hard pressing against her lower region and suddenly felt a little shy.

When she backed off his mouth to kiss his chin and jaw, he groaned.

"God, Granger. What are you doing to me?" His voice was raspy and low.

She realized that she couldn't find words to explain her actions, so she just kept kissing him. He dumped her on a desk, pushed her down so that they were horizontal, and pulled her panties off. She gasped and his mouth covered hers again. Her hands moved of their own accord to remove his belt, and she couldn't believe what she was doing.

Going for it with Draco Malfoy, of all people? She had no idea what had gotten into her, but she didn't care anymore. She'd had enough of being treated as a last resort by Ron, and Malfoy… he made her feel desired, and Merlin help her, she wanted him too.

She kept fumbling with the buckle, and his kiss became more urgent. He pushed her hands out of the way and unbuckled the belt himself. Her free hands ran up his body, tugging his shirt off. She stopped kissing him to look at his perfect, smooth skin and the muscles that rippled beneath it. She couldn't stop herself from touching him.

Then she felt something nudging her nether lips, and she gasped—he'd gotten his pants and boxers off.

Her eyes darted up to his face, and she found his eyes fixed hungrily on hers. What was he waiting for? She lifted her head and tugged his lower lip between her teeth. A feral growl escaped him, and he entered her in one swift stroke. Her cry of pain was muffled by his mouth, but his lower body remained perfectly still.

The pain quickly subsided, and she felt extremely…full. Complete. He was still looking at her eyes, as if waiting for permission. She nodded her head, and then he was moving.

In, out. In, out. In, out.

Hermione was gasping and moaning. She gripped his shoulders and begged for him to move faster, and he complied, going farther in with each stroke. He must not have entered her fully the first time. She started thrusting her hips up to meet his and was almost embarrassed by the loud sounds coming out of her throat.

Then she was soaring, sparks flying before her eyes. She clung to his shoulders tightly, afraid that she'd fall if she let go. He thrust in her a few more times before coming inside her, and then he collapsed over her. She stroked his broad shoulders gently, and his breathing slowly evened out.

It was then that her brain decided to function again.

She'd just had sex. She'd just had sex with Draco Malfoy.

Suddenly she was terrified. She started to push at Malfoy's chest, but he just crushed her with his weight and kissed her lips.

"Relax, Granger," he mumbled between kisses.

She shoved at him again, panting.

"Get—get off me."

Malfoy grinned wickedly. "That's not what you said earlier, Granger."

Hermione's face blanched as she remembered how she'd asked him to fuck her. He took advantage of the distraction and kissed her a few more times. She stopped fighting. Another few kisses wouldn't make what she did any worse, at this point.

Finally, he slid out of her and backed away. "Wow. I didn't even get to see you naked," he said.

Hermione sat up on the desk and smoothed out her dress. He was putting his clothes back on. She stood up. "Where…" she began to ask, but it was too embarrassing. She looked around for her panties.

"Looking for these?" said Malfoy, picking her underwear up off the floor.

"Give them back."

"No. You're mine now, and I'm going to keep this as a souvenir."

"Yours? Who said I was yours?"

"I did," said Malfoy, grinning. "You're mine, Granger."

"Yeah, right."

Her hair was disheveled, probably all over the place, and she couldn't think straight. She took a few steps toward him and found that it hurt a little to walk. Then Malfoy smiled at her, and she realized that it was sincere, not like his usual taunting smirks. She couldn't take her eyes off his face.

"Well, if you insist that you're not mine right now, I'll just have to make you mine," he said. "And I'll start by taking this with me." He held up her underwear.

"Give it back."

"No. If you don't let me touch you again, I want something to prove to myself this wasn't just a dream."

Hermione frowned. "You have dreams like this?"

Malfoy hesitated. "No, of course not."

"Have you fantasized about me?"

"No," said Malfoy. "Why would I fantasize about you? You're a Mudblood."

"Yeah, a Mudblood that you just had sex with and whose panties you aren't giving back."

She reached for them, but he held them out of reach.

"All right then, yes. I have fantasized about this. Now what?"

Hermione didn't know what to say.

"That's what I thought," said Malfoy, grinning. He kissed her lips again. "You'll see that you're mine eventually, Hermione. You'll see."

She shuddered when he said her first name, and suddenly she wanted to hear it come out of those velvety lips again. He started for the door, but her words made him pause.

"Say my name again."

Malfoy smirked. "Bye, Hermione." Without looking back at her, he left the room.

"Bye… Draco."