"HERMIONE!"

The girl in question looked up, baffled. Before looking down again when it became apparent who was calling her. Although Luna was a good friend, and always will be, even Harry and Ron knew well enough to leave her alone when it came to her books.

But maybe it was urgent?

She looked up again and gave Luna a tentative smile, half-rising from her seat to greet her. But it seemed her initial suspcions were correct and Luna wasn't stopping by for a pleasant chat on Bendymellows.

"Hermione!"

"What is it?" she asked, alarmed. Was Harry or Ron in danger? Was Hogwarts finally getting attacked?

It seemed neither of those answers were the answer.

"You need to give this lucky charm to Ron!"

"What?"

Luna brandished forth a leather bracelet, the same material the tough Quidditch gloves were made out of, and let it fall delicately into Hermione's outstretched hand. Already she was turning it over, examining the deft craftmanship with high eyebrows. Whoever made this bracelet, clearly knew a thing or two about weaving. Black and Red cords fed each other to form on a whole, quite a beautiful pattern.

Someone cleared their throat, and Hermione glanced up at Luna's proud stare.

"I made it myself," she admitted, "And I really want Ron to have it. He's been down on his luck lately."

"Okay," Hermione nodded, "I'll give it to him later, when I see him."

"No, Hermione! You have to give it to him now! The match starts only in-" Luna read the time of the clock-"ten minutes. Please, Hermione! You have to find him now!"

The Quidditch match was today? It's funny how little things like that slipped Hermione's conscience on a day to day basis. She should've seen the signs much clearer, because they always repeated themselves before the victory or downfall of a house. First came the sideway glance, quickly giving way to venomous glares. Not long after came the corridor attacks, people walking by themselves at night mysteriously getting pushed over or splattered with eggplant gunk by an invisible meanace.

And then came D-Day. Solemn rows of people at breakfast, not daring to put one morsel to their lips.

If only she had stopped stuffing her face, and staring at her book long enough to notice it this morning.

But alas.

"Don't worry, Luna," Hermione said firmly, curling her digits around the bracelet. "I will get this to him if it's the last thing I do."

Luna gave an appreciative nod and stepped aside gracefully as Hermione began to canter. Soon she'd cleared the library and two floors before she remembered Ron and the others were probably in the Changing rooms, rather than their dormitories. Taking it in her stride, Hermione switched directions and began heading down towards the dungeons- and inevitablly- the changing rooms beyond.

She didn't wait to knock. Confident everyone would be long dressed by now in their Quidditch Garb, Hermione pushed open the door and ran in.

Before screeching to a halt.

"You," growled a all-to-familiar voice.

"Malfoy," Hermione whimpered.

...

She had ran into the Slytherin Changing Rooms. Eleven faces were watching her, all in varying states of mobility. Some of them looked incredibly surprised including Theodore Nott and Vincent Crabbe, bless them. But the more prominent ones like Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini already had a sneer curling around their lips.

Unlike the Gryffindor Quidditch team, where there was a boy to girl ratio thankfully, Slytherin seemed to have an all boys team. Alongside their varying states of mobility, each of them also seemed to be in varying states of undress. Draco was bare-chested and gleaming in baby oils. Zabini had his clothes on, right down to his last zipper. And Goyle? Well let's say he had no clothes on at all.

"Oh Merlin!" Hermione cried, slapping a hand across her eyes. Accidentally she let go of Luna's lucky bracelet, and didn't even realise what'd she done until she felt the clammy print left behind on her skin.

She was so busy edging back and feeling the door handle behind her, she didn't realize Draco was signalling two of his team-mates with his eyes until two heavy hands fell on her shoulders.

Hermione was trapped.

Oh Merlin.

"Take her wand."

"No," Hermione fought as a hand delved into her pockets, and emerged triumphant with a wand. Theodore threw it at Draco and he caught it deftly, his skin pulling taught over his muscles. Hermione had to admit he was a fine specimen, but entirely too pale for her taste.

"Take off her robe."

"No." Hermione fought even harder and found an oppurtunity to escape when her robe was wrenched off her shoulders, and she was suddenly free. No hands holding her back, and better yet none seemed to be reaching out for her! Three steps before she was pulled back, this time under her armpits and they took her so off-kelter Hermione lost her balance and would've fell if it weren't for the arms supporting her.

Draco stepped into view, still shirtless and an evil look in his eye.

"Did you really think we'd let you go? After you practically walked into our laps?"

Hermione bucked her hips in panic.

"Draco," someone urged in the background. "Maybe we should let her go. The game starts in five minutes and we don't really have time-"

"Oh, we'll make time," he snarled, intimidating Hermione enough to stop. "Well," he ammended, "After the game."

"So what do we do with her until then?" the person holding her captive spoke, and Hermione thanked Merlin it wasn't Goyle in his birthday suit. But all thoughts of gratitude fled her mind, when Draco stepped meancingly forward and lent down so they were nose to nose. His harsh breaths mingling with her shallow ones. His instructions were meant for his fellow team-mates, but as every word left his mouth and brushed against hers, Hermione couldn't help but think everything he was saying was for her benefit.

"Tie her up in the showers. You know the drill. Boths arms abover her head and a gag around her mouth."

"NO!" Hermione screamed, her spit landing on Draco's face. She watched as he impassively wiped off the spit with his thumb, and then flicked it back at her, so some of her saliva landed on her nose.

"You cretin!" she yelled, as the person holding her began dragging her backwards to the showers. As the boy whom she vaguely recognised as a Slytherin 5th year wrenched her arms up and tied her hands around the shower head, behind him, Hermione still could see through the gap left behind where the door failed to close properly.

Back in the changing room, Draco's back was faced towards her and it flexed when he reached down to grab the emerald robes needed for the match. He pulled it over his shoulders and turned the collar up, his usual parting gesture.

"If you weren't a Gryffindor and a mudblood at that, I would be feeling sorry for you," the boy tying her up murmered.

"Well-" Hermione opened her mouth to say- Merlin knows what- but was rudely interrupted when a handkerchief was stuffed into her mouth. Hermione gagged, trying to retch the piece of fabric out of her throat, but after her eyes stopped watering and she sagged against the cubicle wall, it was only to find Malfoy in front of her.

Instinctively Hermione screamed. But ended up hacking halfway through and slumping once more against the wall.

Her chest was heaving uncontrollably, and one button busted open.

Oh no.

Draco seemed unaffected however, when he reached up and turned on the dial for cold water. Hermione closed her eyes, as the water drenched her hair and then her clothes and last, but not least her pride. Why was he humiliating her like this? Couldn't he hex her and be done with it?

Both boys watched speculatively, as the Hermione Granger who normally hid behind baggy clothes, suddenly developed a shape (and a curvy one at that) as her white shirt clung to her breasts and hips, and her normally bushy hair was plastered flat to her skull.

The 5th year elbowed Draco excitedly when her bra began to show through, but Draco silenced him with one look.

Anger.

"You better hope we win this game, Granger or we'll come back in a foul mood."

Hermione nodded her head tightly.

When she opened her eyes again, it was to face an empty shower-room and an equally empty changing room beyond that. Somewhere outside of the room, perhaps right outside the door, loud boos and hisses filled the arena as Slytherin walked out to meet Gryffindor in the middle of the pitch.

"As Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy square off, let the match begin!"

Hermione closed her eyes.

It was going to be a long match.

Next chapter is going to be longer this. Feel free to review :)