It all began to dawn on her, watching him sit feet from her, trying to muster up his courage. This was going to happen. He'd accepted that he couldn't get around it. She knew if he tried to run away, tried to hide - if both of them just disappeared, Voldemort would kill his parents. She tried to think rapidly of any way to avoid this - but it would be stupid to think Draco himself hadn't examined every angle carefully. He wouldn't just accept this as their fate. . . . Would he?

His breathing steadied, if only for a moment. "I just. . . . Need you to be strong, okay?"

He started to timidly move towards her. She pleaded once more between sobs, shaking her head, but leaned over onto her back anyway as he loomed over her. If he was really going through with this, she couldn't win. The real reason her legs weren't tied dawned on her at that moment. It wasn't out of concern for her ankle. It was for access. . . .

She gave another powerful sob as his hand moved up to cover her mouth. "Please. Just, make this easier on both of us, alright? Please. . . ." He begged, his face contorted with pain and guilt. A few tears slid down his cheeks. The other hand went to move her skirt and pull her tights and underwear down to her ankles.

The sobs overtook him as she was revealed before him, and Abby closed her eyes tight, wishing to be anywhere but here.

Both of them shuddered as he unzipped his pants, moved her legs apart, and began to press himself into her. . . .

Abby let out a loud scream of pain, barely muffled by Draco's hand. It was excruciating. She felt as if she were being ripped open. The further in he went, the more she struggled to get away. She didn't want him to be hurt by the Dark Lord, she wanted to submit, to let him succeed, but her body fought to escape. Her legs kicked dirt and leaves all over, scrambling to move away from the pain, but though his face revealed remorse, his body was unrelenting, and her flailing legs seemed to only multiply the agony.

This was something far beyond Dark magic. And, yet, even Muggles were capable. . . .

"I'm sorry," he cried, still sobbing. "I'm so sorry. . . ."

For many long minutes, he continued slowly. The pain started to subside until she felt none. Eventually, her tears stopped and she remained numb, unfeeling, as if she had succeeded into escaping somewhere else in her mind. Draco gradually seemed to forget his guilt. His tears subsided too, and he squeezed her close as he grunted, beginning to thrust harder and harder. Abby knew he'd succeeded in focusing on the physical aspect of this act and not on the guilt. She was thankful. She didn't want him to be any more guilty than he would be when he was finished. . . . And it meant that finish would come sooner than if he couldn't make himself enjoy it. . . .

Suddenly - it felt like hours, days later - he gave three deep, drawn out thrusts and stopped, pressed firmly inside her, then pulled away, breathing heavily. The warm feeling in her middle would've been nice if she didn't know what it really was.

He looked down at her like she was precious, despite the fact that he'd just defiled her. He brushed her hair out of her face, petting her head, then leaned down and kissed her.

She knew it wasn't part of the act. She knew the kiss was genuine. It was like an unspoken apology. Yet, she couldn't bring herself to return it.

He looked as if he would start crying again, and reached down to pull her tights and underwear back up. He then waved his wand and her bonds disappeared. She sat up, exhausted. He moved back and slumped down to the ground, taking his head in his hands. "Oh, God. . . ."

He'd gone through with it. He'd followed his orders. There was no happy ending. There she was, lying in the dirt, destroyed by the mad she'd come to trust.

She surprised herself when she felt deep concern for him. She felt almost guilty herself, and she knew it made no sense. He'd wronged her. He'd destroyed her. He raped you, a voice said to her. And here she was, wanting to comfort him.

Then she remembered his words from their second encounter in the bathroom.

Whatever happens, whatever I do, you don't forget this. Don't forget how I feel. It won't change.

She crawled toward him, insides aching, and wrapped her arms around him, beginning to cry herself. He buried his face in her neck as he sobbed uncontrollably. She gently stroked his hair. "Shh," she said through tears. "Shh, Draco, it's alright. . . . I'm okay, Draco. . . ."

They'd both been raped. They'd both been defiled. They'd both had their innocence ripped from them in that dark, evil forest by the same dark, evil man. The forced, violating nature of it remained the same for both - thus, Draco, in fact, had more pain than Abby. He'd had to do it. He'd had to inflict the pain he now shared upon someone else. Someone he cared for. And still, he would have to kill someone. Abby couldn't feel like the victim anymore. She cursed the Dark Lord, she cursed the Death Eaters - and ultimately, she cursed Lucius Malfoy. What saddened her the most was that there was no way to save him. The darkness surrounding the Wizarding world was, as Draco had said, far bigger than her - far bigger than both of them - yet, he was forced to do its bidding. He was too immersed in the evil ways of his father to go and be heroic like Potter, fighting the darkness 'til his last breath - yet too inherently good to be free from the guilt of being a servant to evil. Heroics were easy when you weren't raised to believe evil was good. He'd never be able to change. He would always be a Malfoy, expected to curse Mudbloods and Muggles and praise blood purity. Eventually, if events like this hardened him enough, Draco would inevitably become just like his father - cold, cruel, and selfish. Abby suddenly began to cherish this in-between stage of Draco's life, when he was still able to feel guilt and fear. . . . She knew it would be short-lived. . . . Suddenly, despite the horrific event that just occurred, she couldn't help but be thankful for this moment: the son of Lucius Malfoy, crying in her arms. The son of Lucius Malfoy - Guilty.

He squeezed her closer and cried harder. When it seemed like ages had passed, he pulled away, leaving his hands resting on her waist.

"You should be running," he said finally. "You shouldn't want to touch me. You shouldn't want to be anywhere near me."

"A lot of things shouldn't be." She said. "Like the fact that we even know each other at all. But it happened. And something tells me it was supposed to. Right at the time that we did."

"You're crazy. . . ." He said, shaking his head. "You're crazy for still caring about me. . . .

". . . But I thank you for it. . . . I don't deserve it."

Her eyelids started to get heavy. "Just get me back to the castle, Draco." she said, slumping onto his shoulder. "I'm weary. . . ."

And, as she drifted off to sleep, Draco lifted her into his arms and made his way through the trees, back to Hogwarts, and back to his mission.

THE END.

First off, I want to say thank you to all of my wonderful readers! This was really just a big creative release - I wasn't expecting as much popularity as this brought. An extra big special thank you to those of you who reviewed! Out of the almost 1,000 people who read this fic, around, what, five people reviewed? Haha. So thank you to those people, very much. I also want to say to those of you who may be asking: yes, I really did end it there. I love writing fics that could actually believably fit neatly into the original stories, and unless I've got some serious timing wrong, I do believe these events could fit. I don't think I'd be any good at some alternate reality stuff like some of you fantastic fanfic writers manage - I'd be too worried about doing the author justice.

This fic has been a tiny, minuscule yet sympathetic nod at Draco fan girls. Jean Rowling has expressed concerns over girls' fascinations with Malfoy, and I felt kind of weird knowing I was one of those people, and it made me start thinking. Although we all like to think so, we really couldn't "change" this Slytherin boy with our undying love, sympathy and care, had he existed. It's a romantic thought, yes, but not a realistic one, and possibly a dangerous one at that. The alluring nature of Malfoy really is created in the fact that we are outsiders looking in (and of course, the drop-dead gorgeousness of Tom Felton) - sit and realistically think, What would Draco say to you? What would he judge you for? And how would a character like him manifest in the Muggle world? It can be kind of scary, and it definitely isn't romantic. That's why this story delves into that little fantasy world of "loving the bad boy" and then suddenly takes a dark turn. (I tried to make the rape as realistically un-sexy as possible... But I'm unsure if I was successful...) Even if he reveals himself to the light, the darkness will take him back. It's in his blood, in his nature. While my story has a somewhat happy or, at least, not completely shattering ending, Abby knows they will not live "happily ever after," and Draco, while most likely good at heart deep down for now, will eventually be hardened into a cold, cruel Death Eater. And I do mean it when I say I like to fit my stories neatly into the series - though it doesn't go that far, theoretically, Draco still marries Astoria Greengrass. (Commence gagging.)

But yes, Tom Felton's eyebrow pops and devious smiles and distressed grimaces and portrayals of inner moral conflict are all still very, very, VERY sexy.

I will say, however, for those of you wanting more of Abby and Draco's story, you may get your wish. There is a sequel in the works... Well, conceptually, anyway. If I can find an interesting way to continue my ideas and wrap them up neatly, there will be a sequel - but don't mark my words on that! I don't want any disappointed readers.

One again, thank you to all who took the time to read my story - this story has haunted me for months now and it just had to get out, whether it was good or bad, and I'm very happy that so many people took a liking to it. Until next time - good night!

~Aryn Jean