I actually thought I'd finished publishing this! I'm so, so sorry!

Well, final chapter. Hope you enjoy it.

.XX.

As soon as Hermione spotted the slow smirk grace Malfoy's cruel, beautiful features, she knew she was in trouble.

She gasped an instant later when he pushed his crotch harder into hers, clipping her clit. An unintended jolt of desire shot through her body, as well as a wave of fear.

He wouldn't rape her...would he? She was a 'Mudblood', less than a gutter rat. He wouldn't stoop to–

His eyes never left hers as he thrust his pelvis into her again, his hand still maintaining a tight hold around her throat, mock-choking her. She tried to push him away, but he continued to grind into her, rubbing against her now in a way that was making her dizzy. Her knees trembled, went weak with terror. "Please..." she begged, hoping he'd understand her request for him not to delve any deeper into these dark waters, where he seemed hell-bent to drag them both.

He took her words at face value, much as he had back in the jeweller's shop. "As the lady commands," he offered with a nasty sneer. He stopped feigning throttling her, and dropped his hand to her waist. Hermione took a deep gulp of fresh air... but forcibly exhaled when his fingers skimmed up her body to tweak her left nipple through the fabric of her nightdress.

"Please, sir," she murmured, humiliated and frightened. "Please, don't."

"Don't stop?" he asked, mocking her request.

His thumb lightly circled her nipple, making it harden.

"No...I mean–"

She gasped as he flicked her nipple and slowly stroked his hardened length between her thighs. Her head fell back against the wall behind her, and her eyelids fluttered. Her life had been utterly devoid of physical contact of an intimate nature from the opposite sex. She hadn't experienced so much as a kiss, except on the cheek from friends. Certainly, no one had ever touched her like this. She was Muggle-born, and considered unclean by the bulk of her society, and no one would dare.

And yet, here she was, being touched by a Pure – and in a manner that wasn't vicious or cruel, but enticing, almost sensual. Why? What did Malfoy want from her, really?

She felt something soft and wet and electrifying against her exposed neck. It lapped over her pulse, once, twice. Arousing her.

It was his tongue, she realised.

Good God, Lord Draco Malfoy–purest of the pure-bloods, current head of the MLE, son of the Minister, and murderer of Muggle-borns–wasn't just touching her to humiliate her. He really wanted her, didn't he?

.XX.

Draco followed the natural curve of Granger's throat, from her pulse on up her jaw, varying between open-mouthed kisses and small licks. To his utter surprise, his captive moaned softly under his attentions.

He didn't even attempt to tamp down on his victorious chuckle as he seized her lips at last, swallowing her tiny groan of pleasure. He took her mouth hard, demanding, and she shyly responded with hesitant, inexpert kisses. He tempted her into being bolder, licking her lower lip and biting the warm, swollen flesh there. His hands dropped to her hips, pulling her in tight, and he coaxed her into losing control by circling his groin against hers. From her pleasure-filled gasps and grunts, he knew that he stroked across her clit in a way that was quickly driving her mad.

To his delight, she brought a timid hand up to his nape, threading her fingers through his silver-blond locks. He rewarded her growing enthusiasm for their game by cupping and kneading her breast again. Quickly, he grew impatient, however, and jerked down the fabric of her nightdress, revealing a small, pink nipple and a perfectly round, creamy white mound of flesh. Growling in appreciation, he dragged his mouth from hers and dropped it to her breast. With his teeth, he gently latched onto her tight bud and suckled.

Granger mewled in pleasure, a slave to sensation. She pulled his hair, conveying her need for more from him, and her hips bucked, gliding along his steely length.

He had her now.

.XX.

Nothing outside the moment mattered.

Most of her existence, she'd been told she was worthless, snubbed, spat upon. She'd lived in fear since the age of eleven, when she'd been taken from her parents and dragged into the wizarding world against her will. Of all the men she'd known, only Ron and Harry had ever dared lay a finger on her, and neither of them had done so with desire. She'd never felt the burn she'd overheard other women speak of at Madam Malkin's, when they gossiped as they were fitted or in the private changing rooms, between curtains.

She was feeling it now, knew that it was only temporary, and that she would crash horribly at the end of it, but for now... now she would appreciate this tiny bit of pleasure in the hell that was her life. Draco Malfoy was the most evil bastard she had ever met, but in these seconds, he was beautiful and he desired her, and truly, nothing else mattered. Not once did she think of Ron. She moaned and growled and gasped, and hoped the delicious feelings wouldn't stop any time soon.

For this bit of time, she would forget that her real existence was one of pain, and escape towards the pleasure.

.XX.

Draco was ravenous to taste every inch of the forbidden treasure before him, knowing it would be his only opportunity to ever do so.

No one would ever know if he indulged this one craving this one time, right? He wouldn't tell anybody, and certainly, neither would she. True, she was a Mudblood, beneath him as a result of her contaminated blood and utterly forbidden according to his kind... but after all, every man sinned at least once in his life.

He was decided upon this course of action: he would fuck Granger and get her out of his system, and then he'd have the memory of this time to indulge whenever he found himself in Astoria's cold bed in the future. As for the investigation... well, he'd think about what to do about that after.

Yanking down the fabric covering her other breast, he paid it equal attention to the first, laving it with his want. His rational mind closed up shop and fled before his arousal, and now he was nothing but an animal in nature, slavish in his hunger for Granger's sex. She was there with him, every step of the way, in his arms and trembling with her own need, making wondrous sounds and reacting beautifully to his skilled touch.

She was gorgeous like this, and if Draco were to admit just one thing to himself today, it was that he had desired her since he had first laid eyes on her.

As he bit and licked, suckled and lapped, his hands slyly gathered her nightdress up around her waist. She wore simple black knickers, which he set about discarding quickly by pulling them to her knees. Granger let gravity take them the rest of the way down, and then she was bared to him, and he noted how damp the curls were... He took her mouth again, frantic, desperate. He fumbled with his belt to free his cock, stroked over the proud length, slicking it with his pre-cum.

Was she ready? He brought a hand between her legs to check, playing with her clit at the same time. Her lower lips and thighs were slippery with need. He pushed two greedy fingers into her, and she panted and moaned with pleasure. They kissed somewhat clumsily as he withdrew his hand and lifted her legs around him, positioning himself at her entrance. With a forceful push upwards, he entered her.

Granger screamed, and Draco stilled, shocked.

He'd thought she and Weasley would have... They were engaged, for Merlin's sake! He hadn't believed her a virgin after hearing of her betrothal, assuming such an event would have been consummated in bed, as his had been with Astoria.

Her hushed crying brought him back down to harsh reality. Why and how had he let himself get this far with her? She was a Mudblood – a kind that disgusted him usually. Yet here he was, holding her up against the wall of his office, her tiny, velvet-hot pussy clenching in rejection all around him, her tears mocking his earlier desire and his skill at seduction.

He growled in disgust. Why did he care of her pleasure anyway? Impures existed to serve pure-bloods, not the other way round! He needed his release, goddammit, and he was going to take it – and never mind what she felt!

He pulled out, glancing at the blood on his cock, and felt a burst of masculine pride.

And anyway, he had taken the girl's hymen - not her stupid Weasley. She would go to her marriage bed with the knowledge that he, Draco Malfoy, had been there first.

Roughly, he shoved his way back inside her body, ignoring Granger's whimper of pain. He set a rhythm then, in and out, his pace incrementally increasing as he crested his pleasure.

It came faster than he'd anticipated.

.XX.

Hermione felt cheated.

It had all been so lovely at first, and then... then he'd entered her, and the pain had been incredible. She hadn't anticipated how thick he'd be, nor how stretched and full she'd feel. It hadn't been pleasant in the least.

She kept her gaze past his head, in a haze, tears falling from her eyes in silence.

.XX.

He grunted and growled, and bit down on her throat in a male instinct pushing him to claim her as his, to mark her as his female. She didn't respond, and his eyes narrowed. If she didn't like what he was doing, she should scream and buck against him. Anger could be transformed into lust, as he knew well, but this wouldn't do. She seemed far away from the moment, far from him.

Growling, he tangled a hand in her hair, crushing his lips on hers. She didn't respond. "Kiss me back," he hissed. "Do it, or I swear to take you in the arse the same way."

She hesitated, and he stopped fucking her, leaving his lips pressed on hers. She slowly answered his kiss, without need, without anything. He howled in frustration and picked up speed again. He dropped his head back and yelled his pleasure, as he filled her with his seed.

He panted, gaining his breath back slowly, then shivered and let her go. She crumpled to the floor, in a heap of sorrow and pain, but he wasn't done with her yet. He wanted to see that passion in her eyes one last time before killing her.

Because she had to die. He wasn't ready to let her go explaining to her friends that he'd raped her.

Scratch that. This wasn't really rape, was it? Was it? Draco hoped not. He could torture, murder, and cheat, but he couldn't rape. He liked his women begging for him. He was proud of his ability to attract women, and of his numerous mistresses. Besides, Granger had moaned and kissed back and let him do all of this to her.

Maybe she didn't appreciate losing her virginity to him?

Her problem.

Draco kneeled on the carpet at her side, and pushed her onto her back. She didn't resist, in a state of lethargy. He had used the Cruciatus Curse on her, surely that was worse than this? But women did tend to make a scandal out of nothing...

His fingers flicked at her clit and she yelped, clamping her thighs together. However, Draco was unrelenting. He slowly pried them open again and stayed between, his cock hardening at the sight of their juices still flowing out of her pussy. Ignoring a surge of typical masculine pride, he fingered her clit again, careful to not touch her swollen, wounded vagina.

It took time, and all his skill, but it paid off. She slowly stopped crying, and instead of trying to fend him off, she started fidgeting. Her eyes closed, and her breathing picked up. And finally she let a moan escape her lips, before turning her face to the side, beet-root red and ashamed. He didn't care, as long as she kept moaning. Then, she began pushing her pussy against his hand, and he served her needs dutifully, encouraging her with a whispered: "That's it. Come for me..."

She panted, and continued rubbing her clit against him, as he murmured wickedness and lies in her ear to make her come. At one point, she even turned her face slightly and glanced at him from under her lashes. He rewarded her well by taking care of her breasts, too.

Finally, she came apart, jerking and mewling, and screaming her pleasure while bucking against him. He circled her clit soothingly until she came back down.

.XX.

When she realised that she had experienced bliss at the hands of an evil man, Hermione burst into sobs.

.XX.

Draco stood, looking down at her. She was crying, lying on the floor with her nightdress bunched around her waist, legs still wide open, a mixture of his seed, her juices, and blood seeping out of her, and his jaw clenched. She looked pathetic... broken.

Turning around, he cursed his erection and got dressed, ignoring her.

He couldn't kill her. Not now. Not after seeing her glow in the aftermath of her orgasm. Not after seeing those amber eyes light up as surely no other man had before. Not after seeing her body unravel under his touch - him, the man who had just destroyed her. He just...couldn't hurt her anymore.

Hermione Granger was special to him, though he couldn't quite pin down how and why.

She'd been perfect, though, in that moment...

He tensed as he heard her stand and clumsily dress, wiping the proof of their coupling away with her clothing. He didn't like that. He didn't want the evidence of his claim upon her to disappear. Though he'd had countless lovers, he couldn't remember ever having a virgin. Maybe it was that which softened him to her.

Right now, though, he only wanted one thing: for Granger to disappear from his life forever. It was the only way to end the madness and... save her. He would nail the murders on someone else. Kill a Mudblood or two, and then find the true killer. But no one would finger Granger for it, not if he could help it. She had to leave.

He turned to face her, noticing her mussed curls, her blotchy, reddened face, and her watery eyes. He glanced with some satisfaction at the bite marks he'd left on her neck, and her kiss-swollen lips parted in silence. He pointed to the door, glad to be as cold and collected as usual. It was time to put Hermione Granger behind him now. He had a job to do.

"I don't want to see you ever again," he warned. "If I do, Granger, you will die. Understood?"

She nodded slowly, not meeting his eye.

His jaw clenched and he continued. "The best thing for you is to try to escape abroad. You'll have a better life, and you'll melt perfectly into the Muggle world. Leave Britain."

"I...can't," she whispered, voice hoarse.

"I don't care for your reasons, you will go!" he menaced. "Now, get out of my sight!"

Hermione didn't need his warning repeated a third time. She ran to the door, opened it, and without so much as a glance back, fled. She was free of this life at last.

Draco stared at the empty door frame for long minutes. He felt a pang in his chest knowing she was really gone.

No more. What was done, was done.

He shook his head and sat down at his lonely desk.

It was all over now.

...

Or is it...!

This was my submission for last years DramioneLove fest, and I decided there would be a sequel. I've started it, so keep an eye open. This might not be the ending you hoped for but I decided it was the most realistic- she wasn't going to fall into his arms professing her undying love for him, and neither was he. I hope you liked it all the same and, because I'm a pathetic happy-ending lover, you can end it at that if you want or read the sequel once it's up. Thanks for reading!

Until then,

DIL.