Chapter 1

Hermione needed some time alone. The problem with Hogwarts was that there were people around all the time, everywhere you went, there were others. For a girl who sometimes needed a moment to herself, this was a problem.

In fact it felt like problems were mounting. Harry was losing it. Ron was being a complete bastard and life in general wasn't the bed of roses she'd hoped for this year. They were supposed to be getting their act together now, just one more year to go before they were officially adults, but things were just getting more and more complicated. She just needed a moment to herself.

The only place where getting a moment alone without being the odd girl sitting sulking on a hill in the wet, was the second floor bathroom. Well, there was Myrtle, but she usually escaped pretty smartly if it looked like anyone was going to mope. Apparently she didn't like competition in that department.

Hermione shoved open the door and stepped inside, to what sounded like sniffling. Oh just fantastic, she thought, not even here could she find a bit of seclusion. She was about to leave, but the long shuddering breaths indicated it was someone crying in that way that didn't make a sound. She wanted to just walk away, but she was a prefect and whatever problem was being had, failed grade, mean boyfriend, etc. she felt obligated to give them a pat on the back and a 'don't worry'.

But it wasn't some girl with boy problems she noticed as she walked further in, it was the person she least expected to see. Draco Malfoy, crying. It was like the world had turned upside down and reason had gone out the window.

The crying stopped immediately. He had seen her in the mirror. And she had caught him crying. If she were a lesser person, this was monumental. She wasn't sure what her prefect duties entailed in this situation. She certainly wasn't going to offer her shoulder to him.

He snapped around and shot a hex that landed on the wall next to her. She had completely not expected it and it made her jump. He pointed his wand at her again threateningly.

"You can't shoot hexes in here, Malfoy." She stated with a hint of uncertainty. "What is wrong with you!" It was more demanding, she'd meant it as a statement more than a question, because he had been crying and she certainly didn't want to know why.

He had his wand trained on her with such intent she couldn't go for her wand. He would hex her if she did, of that she had no doubt. She decided on not engaging in any sudden moves.

She cleared her throat, "This is the girls' bathroom." She stated.

He kept advancing on her. He looked menacing, or maybe a tad manic. It was a disconcerting sight, particularly as there still were the remnants of a tear on his cheek. She hadn't considered him as dangerous. She had pretty much dismissed him as someone to keep out of her mind, particularly as Harry seemed so obsessed with him.

He was right by her now. She swallowed hard as his wand came up to her neck. It's tip pressed into her skin, but she could feel a slight tremor in his hand, or was that her body, she wasn't sure.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" She demanded.

He slipped his hand into her pocket before she could notice and pulled out her wand. How had he known it was there?

"Hey." She yelled as he chucked it into a far corner of the room. With the wand gone, his attention returned to her face. He was tall, she'd never really been this close to him before, so his height was a surprise.

What did he want? She wondered. He was bound to be upset about her catching him crying.

His hand came up around the back of her neck. Warm hand which held her firmly. From where he yanked her away. She was on the floor and he was there. His wand was gone. He had her wrists. She struggled, not knowing what he wanted, but it probably wasn't good. She pressed against him, but he was heavy and he was strong and she was pretty much ineffectual against him.

His weight was making it hard to breath. She struggled more, trying to push him away. He wasn't hurting her, just restraining her, she had no idea what was going on.

She felt his hand lower down on her thigh, with the other holding her wrists. Shock overtook her as he ripped her underwear. So shocked that she stopped struggling. This was so surreal and out of her frame of reference, she just couldn't understand.

Strange sensation, intrusion. He was moving on top of her and then groaned. She could feel his weight on and off. And strange sensations. Somewhere, she knew that it looked like he was doing something to her, having sex with her, but consciously, she just could not get her mind to grasp it.

She just stared at him in complete shock. He was shaking and he cried out. Then he stopped. He was still there lying on top of her. She was so scared and shocked, she didn't dare move, much less breath.

He finally got off her. He was sitting back on his heels doing up his belt. When he was done he looked her in the eye. She looked away.

He got up and went towards the sink. She still hadn't moved. Something in her mind wanted her to fix her skirt, but his return froze her.

He leant down next to her head.

"You'll never forget me, Granger." He said and then he left.

She pulled herself up to sitting, but she was stuck there. Her hands pulled her skirt down and she grasped the sides of her shirt together, holding them there protectively. She couldn't get up.

Her mind was slowly catching up with her. She'd just been raped. It had been so surreal, she hadn't understood.

And she hadn't fought, the thoughts raced through her mind. She didn't even say no. She always thought she'd fight like a wild cat if someone ever tried to hurt her, but now that it had actually happened, she hadn't done a thing.

She felt completely disgusted with herself. She still couldn't understand what had just happened. It didn't make sense.

She sat in the bathroom for an hour. Then she got up and washed. There was mess, she had to clean it away. She washed every part of her, she should have gone for a shower, but something in her refused to leave until she had washed every part of her.

She had no idea what time it was when she got out. She just went to bed and pulled the curtains, and the sheets over her head. She just blocked out the whole afternoon. She tried to tell herself it didn't happened. It was still this abstract thing that sat there like the proverbial elephant in the room waiting to be acknowledged.

Then all hell broke loose. There was screaming and shouting. Glass breaking. She was out like a whip, but she couldn't find her wand. Students were running, teachers were running. Someone said the Death Eaters were in the castle.

She had to find Harry, but she couldn't nobody knew where he was. There was complete chaos, and then the Dark Mark floating menacingly over the school. Silence followed. She found Harry and Dumbledore. Poor Dumbledore.

Harry was inconsolable. The school was a mess. She had to help Professor McGonagall with the evacuation procedures. Everyone was terrified that they would return.

Malfoy was gone. He'd obviously gone with the Death Eaters in the attack. Harry had been right, he was one of them, his action all but proved it.

She never told anyone.

She got sick shortly after they arrived at the Burrows. She was sick all the time. She tried her very best to hide the blackness that had grown like a little dementor in her chest. It weighing down everything she did and thought.

She had gone through her periods of complete disgust and what he'd done to her. He had forced his ugliness onto her and she hated him for it. But there was part of her that felt vindicated, felt like he had wanted her, and that was the part that made her hate herself.

She thought it was the darkness that made her ill. Nausea claimed her all the time.

"Oh, Hermione." Molly said despairingly one day. "You haven't been giving licence to a boy have you?"

Hermione froze, in her panic she thought that maybe Molly knew. Maybe Molly thought she had asked for what he did to her, that she had allowed it. Because part of her asked the same thing since she had done absolutely nothing to stop it.

"I think you're with child, girl."

"Impossible." Hermione said.

Molly gave her a look of resigned disbelief.

"What is done is done." She said.

No one directly asked her who the father was, and she never told. Her belly grew and she tried to ignore it. She started getting left behind in their missions and she hated that immensely. She tried to argue that she should go, she wasn't concerned if she got hexed and lost the baby, but the others were.

Things got even more complicated in her head when she heard how Draco Malfoy had died, tortured to death after having to watch the same fate being delivered to his mother. The others felt grudging sympathy for him. She wasn't sure what she felt, she guessed she was still in shock when it came to the subject of Draco Malfoy.

Even when the child was born, no one commented on the boy's stark white hair and the grey eyes. But she didn't delude herself that they had suspicions.

She named him Oscar after her grandfather. The innocent little life for who she was the centre of the world. Hermione truly fell in love for the first time in her life. No matter how he got there, he was hers now, and he was perfect.