It's been a while guys but here is another songfic/oneshot. Darker than I'd usually go for but I hope you enjoy it. Please feel free to leave your thoughts at the end!

Disclaimer: I have no claim to either the song Gravity by Sara Bareilles or the characters/worlds of JK Rowling.

Something always brings me back to you.
It never takes too long.
No matter what I say or do.
I'll still feel you here 'til the moment I'm gone.

DRACO

He was pacing again. He had to be quick; the opportunities were getting fewer and fewer. He knew they were beginning to suspect; so far it was just his mother who gave him odd looks as he once again traipsed down to the dungeons but the others would not be far behind. He couldn't even manage three days now without seeing her. Sighing he leant against the stone wall and slid to the ground.

It had been four years since the Battle of Hogwarts, four years since the world he lived in descended into darkness and ruin. She'd barely recognised him when they captured her, the years of torture and pain had aged him. He was gaunt and pale, his body previously toned and lean from long hours playing quidditch was now much too thin for a man of 21, he could count every single rib. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept for more than 3 hours never mind the whole night. He was fortunate he was a favourite though, some of the others had not been as lucky; Pansy could no longer speak and Theo had fits of uncontrollable and excruciating spasms. He knew too easily that he could have ended up that way.

The night they brought her in he couldn't believe his eyes, she was thinner, clearly hadn't washed in the last month and scars littered her face and arms. But she looked alive, she still had the fire in her eyes, the belief that she could win. That she could still change the world. She was not beautiful, but she was not broken and that was something he couldn't remember seeing for a long, long time. He had stood on in a mixture of horror and awe as she looked the Dark Lord in the eye and laughed. She suffered for that but from that moment on he had hope, hope that things could change and that the prophecy was wrong, that Harry Potter did not need to be the one to end it; that his death on the floor of the Great Hall had not doomed them all to a half life, a life of endless fear and suffering. Three years later he was no longer that naive.

For the past three years he had been making these visits to her cell, at first he said it was just to marvel that the famous Hermione Granger, so-called 'brightest witch of her age' had lasted only one year on the run; but now he knew better. The odd visit every month or so turned into every two weeks, which in turn became weekly and now he found it difficult to stay away for more than a few days. Hermione represented the shred of humanity he had left. By day he was cold and unforgiving killing without a second glance, he was the Dark Lord's captain, his prodigy. Night was a different story.

He kept a small leather notebook on his person at all times; it was shrunken down and placed in a pouch he carried around his neck. In that book were the names of every single person he had ever tortured, mutilated or murdered. That book was the ultimate burden, it was the reason he could not sleep or eat and more often than not the reason he found himself swimming at the bottom of a bottle of firewhiskey practically every night. He was a shell of man, until he was with her.

You hold me without touch.
You keep me without chains.
I never wanted anything so much,
Than to drown in your love and not feel your rain.

DRACO

Rising from his place on the ground he placed his palm on the door to her cell and watched as it melted away. His idea to employ the magic of Gringotts in their dungeons was just another reason why the Dark Lord had recognised his potential. She was chained up for the night as usual in the corner, completely naked and covered in filth. A mudblood was no better than an animal the Dark Lord had decided and animals did not wear clothes. Her hair was matted and tangled and the 'mudblood' carved into her forearm was almost pretty compared to the ruin the rest of her body had become. She was currently sporting a deep gash across her cheek which he suspected was a gift from his aunt - Hermione had fast become Bellatrix's favourite play thing and he did not wish to count the number of times he'd been forced to watch, and even participate in her games.

He sat next her on the floor stretching out his legs in front of him. She had never spoken to him. The first time he visited she had spat in his face, struggling on her chains to try and reach him, to throttle him. Now she simply glanced at his face and resumed her staring into space. That was the thing that had brought him down to Earth; when he realised that despite all her fire and grit, all her determination, they had still managed to break her. They had taken a woman who was caring, intelligent, brave and idealistic and turned her into a ghost. They had not killed her but she was dead inside. To heal her wounds would arouse too much suspicion so he settled slowly slipping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her into him. She had never instigated a touch, never so much as snuggled into him; she simply lay there unmoving, cradled in his arms.

He daydreamed sometimes about what life could have been like if Potter had won the war. He imagined a small house with homely decorations as far as possible away from the cold and distant manor he had grew up in. He saw her reading on the sofa in her pyjamas humming a tune; he saw her walking down the aisle like an angel in a gown of white with a smile on her face that could light up the darkest of rooms. He saw nights out laughing with friends, her glowing as she gave birth to her first child- a red headed boy with freckles just like his father. He saw a trio of red headed children playing with their cousins the Potters. He watched as she grew old witnessing countless weddings, the birth of her grandchildren and the timely and inevitable deaths of friends. But he did not feature in any of those visions. He was always standing off in the distance, trapped with a woman he did not love and could never be happy with.

Sometimes he wondered if he truly was black inside, because in moments like these just sat in silence with his arm around her on a cold, stone floor he was glad he was in this version of life; because at least he got to truly experience some of her fire before it burned out.

Set me free,
Leave me be.
I don't wanna fall another moment into your gravity
Here I am and I stand so tall, just the way I'm supposed to be.
But you're on to me and all over me.

DRACO

He'd slipped away in the early hours of the morning, waiting as he always did until she drifted off to sleep. She was usually so exhausted that even with the nightmares it only took her a matter of minutes. The rest of his night was spent drinking himself into oblivion, passing out was quickly becoming his only form of rest. It was now around midday and he'd just been served lunch along with the rest of the Dark Lord's elite. Their master was currently travelling round Albania in search of an item from his youth and so the proceedings were decidedly less tense than usual, without his presence however the after dinner 'entertainment' often got a little out of hand.

His aunt was currently strolling up and down the line of their servers, taunting them as she went. They ranged from a boy young enough to still attend Hogwarts to a woman so old Draco questioned how she survived the back-breaking work of a slave; all shared one thing in common- 'unclean blood.' When his aunt was doing the picking the routine was always the same, every now and then she'd fix her sights on someone new and his hopes would rise ever so slightly only to have them dashed when she threw her head back in a haunting cackle and grabbed her favourite- Hermione.

Draco doubted his aunt even viewed her as a human being anymore, to Bellatrix she was lower than the dirt on the ground, put on the earth simply for her own amusement. Amusement that Draco was often forced to take part in.

"I think we should mix things up a bit today, Draco dearest come give Aunty Bella a hand."

She was cackling again and that was bad, he valued the fact that she still saw him as a little boy- God forbid he ever became a threat. He casually unfolded himself from his chair, stretching as he went, the key was to look bored at all times.

"Where do you want me to hold it? Or would you prefer me to chain it up this time, you always have fun then?"

He ran a hand through his hair as he strolled over, purposely not looking Hermione in the eye. He could never quite make eye contact with her outside the cell, outside the little alternate reality he had built up for himself.

"Oh no Draco, you've served our master so faithfully recently I think you deserve to let off a little steam. Have a bit of fun; you've been cooped up in head quarters for far too long!"

She was tying Hermione up now, chaining her wrists to the ground so she was forced to kneel in submission- not that she ever tried to fight it anymore. This was the one nightmare he had always managed to avoid. Normally his aunt was content to let Draco watch or worst case scenario hold her down whilst she had her fun; she'd never made him hurt her yet.

"I wouldn't wish to take away your enjoyment; it is your favourite part of dinner."

He bowed his head slightly as a sign of respect, it was a feeling he had never had for his Aunt but needs must. He could not think of any way to avoid this situation, once Bellatrix got an idea into her head it was practically impossible to shake it loose and he could not afford to create suspicion- what reason could he possibly have not to hurt her?

"Why Draco, is my gift not good enough for you? Do you think you are entitled to better?"

Her tone had changed now and she was stalking towards him, Bellatrix was always just one wrong word away from snapping and he had to tread carefully in every situation.

"O-of course not Aunt." He stuttered for effect. "I am merely so shocked and humbled that you would deem me worthy, I can hardly wait."

With that he plastered a smirk on his face and strolled over to where she was chained up. Bellatrix squeezed his shoulder as he passed, a disgustingly proud expression on her face. Hermione had her face to the ground and he thought he might be able to cope, that he might be able to replace the image of her with a faceless slave he had never held. Just as he was about to cast the curse she looked up. She locked eyes with him for a split second and to his surprise there was no hatred behind the stare, only acceptance- she understood what this would do to him and miraculously she forgave him.

Then she began to scream.

Oh, you loved me 'cause I'm fragile
When I thought that I was strong.
But you touch me for a little while
And all my fragile strength is gone.

HERMIONE

He would not come to see her tonight. She had counted two visits this week already, he was taking more and more chances. Today she had witnessed him break a little bit more inside, as he had tortured her over and over to a chorus of her screams and his aunt's maniacal laughter; she watched him slowly shut down. When she was first captured she was confident of her rescue, she knew it would only be a matter of days before the order launched a successful counter strike. So she waited and waited. The heroic rescue mission never came. She worked alongside the other slaves, listening out for any bit of news of the resistance, terrified of what had befallen them. She soon learned of a successful strike on an enemy camp just 2 hours away from the headquarters where she was being held and then she realised- they had weighed up the variables and decided she was not worth the risk. She was alone.

It was not long after this news that Draco first visited. She had barely recognised him when they brought her in kicking and screaming, she almost did a double take when she realised that the gaunt forty-something year old man was in fact Draco Malfoy the famed Slytherin Prince. When he came she thought she was dead, they had taken away her wand so all she had left were her fists, she kicked and screamed straining against her chains, refusing to go quietly to what would surely be her execution. Then he sat down. He just sat across the cell and watched her and then he left. He kept visiting and each time he'd sit a bit closer until she was starting to look forward to his visits and dread the nights he didn't come. She started to crave his touch, the way he held her it made her feel human again. She began to wish he would say something every time he opened his mouth and then changed his mind but most of all she wished she had the courage and the will to respond. She had to numb herself to simply get through the day, she found it impossible to then open up to Draco when he came to her at night. She had shut herself down to survive for so long she didn't even know if she could truly feel ever again. She no longer dreamed of rescue, she was doomed to be here until she lost her novelty and someone finally put her out of her misery.

I live here on my knees
As I try to make you see
That you're everything I think I need here on the ground.

HERMIONE

Her chores usually consisted of cleaning every single spot of the building (whilst being kicked around and teased like a dog) and when she was extra lucky and in need of a severe bit of torture - serving at the dinner table. Ever so rarely she was sent to aid a death eater personally in their room, it was usually seen as the worst job, behind closed doors there was no telling what 'accidents' could befall a slave; but then she was sent to Draco.

His room was sparse, there were no pictures on the wall and were it not for the fact he was stood right in front of her she doubted she would have guessed he lived here at all. She immediately dropped to her knees keeping her face to the ground; countless beatings had drilled that into her pretty soon. She held her breath and waited, she was praying for a few good old fashioned Crucios- sometimes the men conveniently forgot she was no better than an animal and decided they needed a bit of intimate fun. She'd take the torture any day over that.

This was Draco though and he always surprised. She felt him crouch in front of her and then he was touching her chin, lifting her face so he could look her in the eye. He was always so gentle. She had witnessed firsthand the things he had done and did not understand how he managed to distance himself from those horrible acts.

"There's food on the table and you're welcome to sleep on the bed. No one will bother us here."

They were the first words he had spoken to her despite all the late night visits and to hear the defeat in his voice was quite unnerving. She was used to the arrogant Malfoy the entitled, pompous prick that he played so well in the dining room and who had plagued her early Hogwarts years. She knew he had changed but to hear it so clearly in his voice was a shock.

She nodded and rose from the floor, slowly walking over to the table he had indicated. Food for a slave was scarce and this was the meal for one of the Dark Lord's inner circle; roast meats and freshly baked baguettes, five different types of cheese and a bowl of fresh fruit. She was grabbing everything as quickly as she could and cramming it into her mouth, her stomach was cramping due to the sheer amount of solid food but still she was stuffing in more; she could not remember a meal ever tasting this good- not even the Hogwarts' feasts. Eventually her body could take no more and she sank to the floor, for the first time in 3 years she did not feel the constant ache of hunger, she felt drowsy as though she may actually be able to peacefully drift off to sleep. With that thought she felt a pair of gentle hands lift her from the floor and carry her over to the bed where she was gently placed; the bed dipped behind her from the weight of another person but for once she was not afraid. She felt him place an arm around her waist, it was loose as always and he never tried to pull her close but right now she needed to be held; she slowly scooted backwards snuggling into his embrace. A huge intake of breath was the last thing she heard before finally she could rest.

But you're neither friend nor foe
Though I can't seem to let you go.
The one thing that I still know is that you're keeping me down.

DRACO

It had been a week since Hermione had slept in his bed, a week since she had returned his embrace. It had been a long time since Draco had received any form of human contact that was not calculated or designed to hurt; to simply lie there with another person was more than he could ever have hoped for. The Dark Lord was back today and if the whispers were true he had not succeeded in his search- he would need a strong memory to get him through whatever horrors would occur.

He was one of the last to enter the dining room and slip into his seat, just two down from that of the Dark Lord's. He dare not make eye contact with anyone, instead choosing to stare and the dark wood of the table until all the stragglers had taken their seats.

"It has been too long my followers. I hope things have been running smoothly in my absence."

The Dark Lord was scanning the table whilst Bellatrix jabbered away about the success of the organisation under her stewardship; he was slowly passing his wand from hand to hand; running his skeletal fingers over the pale wood. He zoned back into the meeting as soon as he heard his name mentioned. This could not be good.

"As you all know Draco, whilst young, has proved exceedingly useful to me these last few months- more so than some of my oldest and supposedly most loyal followers."

He waved his wand and both Goyle and Nott Senior were decapitated, blood coating both their sons who were sat next to them - an event that caused Theo to enter another of his fits. The Dark Lord simply ignored Theo's screams and continued with his speech.

"I have decided to reward you Draco, for your loyalty and your commitment to my cause. You are to receive a great honour." He turned towards Bellatrix who was practically salivating with excitement.

"Bring it in."

Draco's heart plummeted in his chest, he knew what was coming and it had kept him awake for the last 2 years. Sure enough it was her. Hermione was chained and naked as usual and Bellatrix was using her wand to drag her across the floor before she deposited her at the Dark Lord's feet.

"Come Draco, look upon your reward." The Dark Lord had outstretched his arm meaning he had no choice but to stand up and walk around to the head of the table.

"I have decided to allow you the honour of killing Harry Potter's precious mudblood.

With that the whole table cheered and began to strain their necks, eager not to miss the show. He wanted to make it quick and painless and luckily he had a reputation for being cold and calculating- nothing like his aunt, but he could not afford to anger the Dark Lord. He bowed deeply.

"My Lord I cannot begin to thank you enough for this great honour yet I do not wish to disappoint, surely you would rather my aunt undertake this deed? You know I do not play with my food and I do not want to deprive you of your entertainment."

He kept his eyes to the ground, praying he had not overstepped the boundaries.

"Your Aunt has received many favours from me, and I find it rather boring to watch her play around. There is steel in you and it is something that I think will become very useful in the future. This honour is yours Draco."

He took a deep breath before plastering a pleased smirk on his face and lifting his head to meet those crimson eyes.

"It will be a pleasure my Lord."

He turned towards Hermione and flicked his wand dragging her to her feet; another flick pushed her towards the centre of the empty space and to her knees. It took every ounce of his willpower to walk towards her; he had avoided looking at her since he had been given his task. He was ruined inside, he would never have a life like he had hoped and he doubted he would ever be capable of falling in love but at least when he was with her he didn't feel so empty. She slowly looked up at him, she was crying softly but there was a smile on her face, something he had not seen in a very long time.

It was almost like seeing her as her younger self, when laughter came quick to her and she could not fathom a fate worse than expulsion. That was when he realised, he was setting her free. Free from this horrific existence she had found herself thrown in to. He could feel a tear dripping down his cheek and his breathing was becoming heavier and heavier. At least now he could finally give her what she wanted. He raised his wand and pointed it directly at her heart; she locked eyes with him and mouthed a single word.

"Thank-you."

Something always brings me back to you.
It never takes too long.

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