My first Dramione. One shot. HBP world. Consider this a deleted scene. Nothing changes about the war and perhaps nothing after. Unless I decide to go on with this. Rated diet-M for all of the maturity but none of the actual fruition- come on, they're only 16. ;)

As always, these characters were not my invention. All hail JKR!

Please review but be kind. Each story I write is a piece of my soul.

Call it magic, call it true
I call it magic when I'm with you
And I just got broken, broken into two
Still I call it magic, when I'm next to you

"Magic" by Coldplay

Hermione was cold. The castle seemed to be particularly "moody" lately and whenever she felt a chill in the air she remembered back to the bit in "Hogwarts, A History." that discussed the old founder's magic behind the castle and the structures resultant "feelings." Perhaps Hogwarts did not like all the surprise trips that her headmaster seemed to be taking and if she had to hazard a guess she would say that Dumbledore was out tonight as well. She sighed. Nothing was as it should be. She was sixteen and on the brink of a war. She ought to be immersed in her studies, deciding on which University she wanted to attend and indulging in normal hobbies. Instead, she was attempting to help Harry, actually, coercing Harry, into figuring out how to get whatever memory he needed from Slughorn and waffling between intense interest at Harry's latest trip down Tom Riddle's memory lane and disgust. She sighed. Yes, not at all what a normal sixteen year old should be doing.

Get warm Hermione! Stupid inner dialogue. She rolled her eyes. She pulled her cloak around her tighter but couldn't shake the bone chilling temperature on the fifth floor. It was as if the entire draft of the castle was blowing through this one particular hallway. As she rounded a corner she saw the entryway to the prefect's bathroom and thought of the perfect solution. She would take a nice long bath. That would warm her up much better than a warming charm which always felt like a wet, tepid blanket to her.

Unsurprisingly there appeared to be no other prefects in the bathroom. Most eschewed the bathroom because Moaning Myrtle had a tendency to frequent the piping from her bathroom on the first floor. They chose to use their house bathrooms rather than hazard Myrtle's latest slight. Hermione, however, had cultivated a cautious relationship with her after learning of her untimely demise during her second year. She found that if she just let Myrtle talk without interruption and without her own opinions and reflections Myrtle usually just cried herself out and then went away thanking her for the company or yelling at her for being silent. It worked even if it wasn't the most elegant solution.

She stepped into the bathroom and smiled as she repeated something that she thought Ron or the twins would say, "Bugger! It is colder than a witches teat!" Hermione laughed at the expression- although maybe it was too soon to make the persecution of the magical community a joke, the Weasley boys often found humor on the fringe of good taste. She chastised herself but still chuckled. What would they say if they had heard her say it!? Prim Hermione. They would never believe it.

It was a lovely evening in spite of the castle's open hostility. The two large windows on either side of the prefects tub displayed a beautiful star lit night with a full and bright moon lending its soft glow to the bathroom's chandeliers. Romantic Hermione- maybe Myrtle can moan you a tune? The large bath looked inviting and Hermione used her wand to get the water going and add some nice smelling sudsy agents. To pass the time until the bath filled, she consulted her Transfiguration text and attempted to change her quill into a Raven and, harder still, back into a quill wordlessly and with ease. On the third try she did it perfectly and stood in triumph. When the tub was ready, she undressed with a flick of her wand and with another flick sent her underthings, robes, cloak and shoes to the dressing area and another flick to accio a couple of warm and fuzzy looking towels tub-side. She slowly descended the steps into the tub as she felt the familiar burn of cold limbs warming up. She was chest deep in the water and about to submerge her head when she thought she saw the platinum white hair and grey blue eyes that she knew only one person in the school possessed. Malfoy.

Draco was burning up. The pain was unbearable. He literally felt like his arm had been cleft in two from elbow to finger tip. To himself he said between gritted teeth, "Just chop the bloody arm off you git!" but he didn't find it funny and it did nothing to distract him from the pain. Going to Madam Pomfrey was not an option and his Father had warned that should anyone see the Dark Mark and suspect his intentions the Dark Lord would not be pleased and the punishment would be swift and severe.

Speaking of Father, this was all his fault. OK, father doesn't control evil in the world. But still! He had failed the Dark Lord in that fiasco at the Ministry last year and it was either his Mother's life and sanity -as she writhed in the crucio- or Draco's unswerving devotion. He obviously had moved to save his Mother and at the time he did it out of some crazed hope that he could save his mother and his father with his bravery. This illusion wore off quickly and he thought to himself that he got his just desserts for thinking like a bloody Griffindor. He received the Dark Mark as Narcissa cowered in the corner licking her wounds and then the Dark Lord immediately put him under imperio and forced him to crucio his own father. The Dark Lord and his Aunt Bellatrix laughed while he tried to fight his own hand, his own mind, his own body. The Dark Lord was obviously not pleased with the resistance he felt from Draco while under the imperio and there was more retribution to be had on Lucius so he released him from the curse and commanded Draco to kill Dumbledore under threat of torture and then laughed when he threw up the first time all over his clothes as he exited the room. He threw up three more times that night and he attempted to gouge the mark from his arm but no matter how deep he dug it was still there. Indelible and horrific. Draco remembered the next 48 hours only in pieces. He thought he recalled his mother coming into his room and holding him and stroking his hair from his face like she did when he was very young. He thought he could hear snippets of a deep baritone voice joining his mother singing a sad song about a Phoenix that he vaguely recognized.

Sweet tears, pure tears, tears that heal and release,

Come sing your sad song of remembrance,

Serenade with your music of grace and peace

He surely had to have hallucinated that last part. Father would never, ever sing. Ever.

Focus Malfoy, back to the burning. What had happened? The Dark Lord must be furious. This was not an ordinary call. Would his parents survive this night. In a lucid moment in the pain he thought perhaps he should go commiserate with Professor Snape but he knew that Snape was probably already gone to the Dark Lord. He would have to wait out the pain and hope for his parent's safety and perhaps that was another layer of punishment. The Dark Lord knew he could not just leave Hogwarts whenever he called and yet he did not spare him.

He sat on the floor in the Prefect's bathroom clutching his arm in one attitude for an hour before the burning finally subsided and it was replaced by a more sickening sensation that he could unfortunately feel from afar. Elation. Draco rushed to a stall and lost all of his dinner. Elation usually equaled cruel deaths. He had only just finished retching into the toilet when he heard the outer doors swing open. He did not want to be seen in this state. He quickly cast a disillusionment charm and sat on the toilet with the door to the stall opened.

Perfect. There was Hermione Granger. She did seem to always have impeccable timing. She helped her unwitting foolish friends so much that he was convinced that they only had one brain between the three of them. He did not like her- she was certainly a know-it-all, but everyone thought that. When he really thought about it though he didn't hate her. He was neutral with regards to Hermione. Well, neutral if you didn't count her punching him in the third year. The problem with Granger was his own stupidity. Mudblood. What had he been thinking? No one would let him live it down so he could never forget it but he knew there was no real spite behind it and that he'd used it because he had wanted to sound sophisticated like his father and curse and cuss like a man. The guffaws from his friends were the only reaction that he'd wanted and when he saw that he had caused genuine pain he was not pleased with himself but then he had caved to peer pressure and used it on other occasions. No, if Draco did not like Hermione it was mostly because of self-loathing and the reminder that he was coward under fire.

Stupid wanker, back to the bathroom. What was she doing here looking, for all intents and purposes, like she was actually going to use the bathroom for its intended use. Wait. Did she just turn the water on? Yes. I should leave. I should leave right now. I should definitely leave right now.

But he did not leave. He did not move. She gave him another reason to dislike himself and, did she just say it was colder than a witch's teat in here?

Maybe it was his arm and the relaxation that spread over him after a long hour of pain and tenseness or maybe it was just teenaged curiosity but when he did finally move it was only out of the stall to look at what was now going on nearer to the tub after he was robbed of his vantage point. Typical. She was reading and practicing Transfiguration. She really was a wonder to watch however. Her brows furrowed as she reviewed the text and then she picked up her wand holding it lightly between her thumb, index and middle finger and practiced the necessary movement . She then put her quill on the side of the tub, concentrated and it transformed to raven. Impressive as always. Merlin! Hermione had to be the most gifted witch of their age. She had no match in wizard either. In three tries she'd mastered complex transfiguration without the use of a verbal spell. Dammit. Stop admiring her. She's insufferable.

The tub, Malfoy. He groaned inwardly, the tub. He really needed t- For Merlin's sake! With a swish of her wand her clothes were gone. Her back was to him as she faced the tub and Draco thought he'd pass out from the sight before him. Her hair was still gently moving from the spell that removed her clothes and it came back to rest midway down her back. It was wavy and silky smooth. He guessed that puberty or some magical hair compound had helped her tame her crazy hair from the rats nest of the first three years. It was the perfect chestnut hue and accentuated her honey colored skin.

Her skin. She had goosebumps. It was cold? He felt scorching hot. Must be the Mark. Yeah, you tell yourself that.

Hermione had the most perfect backside he thought he'd ever seen. She had a slim waist and there were two dimples beneath it on her lower back leading to a wider heart shaped bottom that could have rivaled any of them that he'd seen in the more seedy muggle publications. Her legs were toned and muscular as well. She looked like a bloody super model.

Back to leaving Malfoy. You were leaving. You don't even like her- you said it yourself. Besides- it's not as if she would invite your presence here. She is going to murder you when she finds out you're here. Make that if she finds out you're here.

The moment she turned to face the linen closest and summon some towels he knew he wasn't leaving. The front was better than the back. Dear Merlin he was going to have a heart attack and die hidden under his own concealment in the Prefect's bathroom. It would be a good death. Her neckline, breasts, stomach, nether regions- it was all unimaginably unblemished and ripe for touching. She turned back to the tub before he'd had his fill and began to descend into the bubbles when he silently cast finite incantatem. He saw a set of brown eyes lock onto his the moment before she immersed herself in the water.

Hermione. Get. A. Grip. You're starting to see that git in your relaxed moments. Just stay under the water and relax. Wait. Just stay under the water and maybe he'll go away. Just stay under and--did someone just touch her? She shot up and was face to face with Draco Malfoy. In the nude. In the bathtub. With. Her. She stifled a scream and managed to get out, "YOU!" but he covered the rest of her protest with his own lips as he kissed her fiercely. She did not relax into his kiss but it didn't stop him from holding her against him as she squirmed against him in the water.

What was that? Dear Merlin! Was that his- oh my, it is. Kill me here. Now.

I love bubble baths. I officially love anything that causes a soapy Hermione to rub her exquisite breasts repeatedly against me.

Hermione finally forced herself away and immediately sunk all but her head under water and exclaimed with no small amount of anger, "Malfoy, I'll have you written up for harassment! This is not funny. Where's my wand?"

He flicked his own and her wand flew across the bathroom from the ledge, "You mean that?"

"You will give it back and you will face the repercussions for your actions and- IS THAT THE DARK MARK?!"

He instinctively loosed her from his grip and forced his arms under water. "Whatever Granger, seeing things."

She started for the steps and he pulled her back to him and held her flush against his front and said, "I wouldn't go if I were you."

He had an edge to his voice and she knew what she had seen. Draco was a death eater. Was he going to rape and then kill her? Her blood ran cold and she went stiff in his arms. Draco felt her tense and he could almost taste her fear. He had her now. Wait just a damn minute! Didn't you just berate yourself for allowing this witch to make you hate yourself? He sighed and he loosened his grip but did not let her go.

Did he just begin to let me go and sigh? What is going on?

"Hermione. Please. Just listen." He allowed her to turn around in his arms.

She responded, "Can I listen with my clothes and on and your clothes on?"

He gave her a wry smirk and said, "If you'd like to put my clothes on over yours, certainly, but I think they'll be a bit large on you."

She relaxed a bit, "Just tell me that you aren't a death eater Malfoy."

"My name is Draco and I don't owe you an explanation."

Right. Just some mudblood witch. "You do, DRAC-O, you snuck up on me in the bath and assaulted me and now you're holding me against my will." Gathering all her courage she went on, "Do you plan on raping me this evening as well. Maybe some unforgivable fun as well."

As her speech went further she saw his eyes take on his unmistakable "Malfoy" anger and his mouth sneer and he responded with barely contained rage saying, "You don't know me Granger. You know nothing about me! GO! Get out before I have some of the fun you were talking about."

He summoned her clothes and her wand, let her go and shifted to the back of the tub. Hermione could see that his anger was barely concealed but she wasn't going to let the opportunity of escape slip by for a crisis of conscience. She had to admit, Malfoy was low but not that low. He didn't need to find a girl to take advantage of as most at least seemed to snog him quite willingly. In fact, were it not for his superiority complex and surly personality, he could have had any girl in the school. She dried and dressed with a couple flicks of her wand feeling rather than seeing his eyes on her back as she did so. She grabbed her bag and her Transfiguration book and she was about to bolt when he said, "Look at them. Look at my memories."

She stopped at the door, "What?"

"You know the incantation. Look into my mind."

"But, why?"

"You won't believe me otherwise. Look. This is the last chance I will ever give you to know me. You probably don't deserve this one."

She couldn't help herself, "Oh yes, well, mudbloods don't deserve to use magic at all right?"

"YOU WILL NEVER USE THAT TERM AROUND ME AGAIN!"

She jumped in astonishment. Did Malfoy just say that?

"Did you hear me?!"

Under her breath she said, "Yes, I apologize. I seem to have misplaced my mind when I find it I'll let you know."

He let out a single chuckle, "Maybe Neville's rememberall will be of use."

"Doubtful. I have philosophical arguments with that thing, like, how do you eve-"

"Hermione, stop stalling. It won't work on me like it does on Potter and Weasel. Do it now or leave. This is my last offer."

She looked at him and then steeling her resolve and raising her wand said, "Legilimens"

Hermione had never actually penetrated any one's mind. It was very intimate. Snoging Krum did not even come close. She attempted to be gentle and she waited for him to meet her. It seemed he had specific memories he wanted her to see and rather than violate him she hung back from everything else. It was very demanding work. Each memory seemed to beg to be viewed. She could see why people became obsessed with this kind of control. She saw fleeting moments of Draco crying as a child as his father walked away from his room, his mother singing a sad ballad over his partially sleeping form, Draco under the sorting hat, Draco watching his mother dress for a party. She attempted to push all of these intruders from her probe and focus solely on what Draco was presenting to her. She saw the memories of him calling her mudblood and his immature and unmalicious thoughts leading up to those moments. She saw the night he received the mark unraveled before her. She nearly had to break the connection when Draco was forced to torture his own father and swear that he would kill Dumbledore. She saw Snape offer to protect him. She saw sleepless nights over his concern for his parents and Professor Snape. She saw all of his fear and angst for the past seven months and then she saw this evening. Him clutching his arm in agony and the feeling of searing pain and then the sickening after taste of the Dark Lord's vengeance and the resultant bile. Then he more tentatively pushed to her his memory of her as she transfigured the quill and as she undressed. She gently withdrew as he tried to push a vivid and enjoyable version of their kiss on her.

She looked at him for a moment and watched as he acknowledged her release of him. She said, "I've never done that before. It is really exhausting."

"Know-it-all."

"You know what I mean."

He floated to the steps of the tub. "Yes, and thank you for not invading my private memories. I can tell you that it is not normally as painless as you made it."

She frowned, "I did see some things that you didn't present to me. I'm sorry."

He shrugged, "It happens. I have very little to hide in actuality."

She frowned deeper, "I see that now and I'm a fool. I'm sorry."

"How did that taste coming out?"

Her frown turned to a half smile as she answered, "Like sour milk."

Awkward silence suffused the room. Hermione was the first to break it and say, "Are you going to do it?"

He deflated considerably and put his left arm to his forehead. She gasped at the mark but he didn't seem to notice or care. "I don't honestly know. If there were any way to keep my parents and Dumbledore alive even if it meant my death I would do it, but Hermione, I'm not brave like you."

She walked back to the bathtub and leaned over it suds, water and all and grabbed his left arm and pulled it to her face and looked hard at it and then she let his arm down and released him but not before she planted a firm kiss on the inside of the palm of his hand. I wonder what would have happened if I'd kissed the mark. Maybe my face would have burned off!

"You are brave in your own way."

With his right hand he reached up from the tub and caressed her face as he said. "There's the interminable optimism of the the Griffindors."

"I think Professor Snape is a good resource. I know he is our spy. Surely he must have a way out of this."

Draco knew that there was a meeting between his mother, aunt and Snape but he had no idea what they discussed and his mother merely told him that the less people who knew the less would break under interrogation. He suspected that they extracted a vow from Snape to protect him but was not sure. It was all just too much pressure.

"I don't believe there is any way out of this but I wanted one honest person to know that I never desired it to be this way. Crab and Goyle may be thrilled but they have never truly known me. Did you see that the sorting hat actually asked if I wanted to be in hufflepuff. Hufflepuff! Bloody house of pansies, but no matter what anyone says and no matter what I do or they do to me I am still dominated by my love for my family."

Hermione sighed and made the decision to rejoin Draco in the tub. With a flick of her wand she'd replaced her robes for a modest bikini. She re-warmed the water with a spell and then they both relaxed into the suds and began the slow process of discussing all that she had seen in his memories, her versions of those that he shared with her and her friends in them, and their respective apologies. Draco didn't know why he'd opened up to her, maybe it was because she snuck up on him and then he didn't have the courage to leave and had violated her privacy. He did know that he'd never spoken to another female with such ease except his mother. She is smart, witty, utterly sexy and she is willing to spend her time with me, not because of who I am but in spite of who I am.

If Draco's mind was astonished hers most certainly was more so. Draco was their sworn enemy. I'm in a tub playing chatty Cathy with an active death eater! Harry and Ron would kill me! What she wouldn't acknowledge to herself was that he was tall, attractive and intelligent. His knowledge of potions was beyond her own and they spent a good thirty minutes discussing the subject in such depth that she found herself attracted to him just on the basis that she had had longer than a five minute conversation with him and he never mentioned Quidditch.

In three tentative hours and after several anti-water absorption, warming and re-sudsing charms it felt as if they were actually becoming friends. But I don't want to be friends. I want to kiss her. The chimes had rung for ten and they both snapped out of the trance. She said with awkwardness, "That's curfew. We will have to go."

He answered with force, "I suppose we will, but you know what I want before we do."

She raised an eyebrow and said, "I guess I do, but you know that I am emotionally involved with Ron."

"He's a git who doesn't deserve you. Come over to right pureblood's side."

She slapped him hard on his chest, "I thought we weren't using blood obscenities!"

"Ouch! Now I know why Potter and Weasel always seem so brow beaten."

She thought, I won't do it! I won't kiss him!

He thought, That's it, I'm doing it, it's now or never Malfoy.

He grabbed her arm before she could reach the steps, pulled her to him and kissed her deeply and urgently. She leaned into his kiss without much of a fight and she allowed it when she felt his hand roam her body, in fact, she let her own hands roam. Wow! That is a nice arse. Did I just think that?! They were both lost in their kissing and just as Malfoy was releasing the tie of her bikini top and beginning to let his hands come back around to her loosed breast they both heard the tell tale moan of Myrtle in the plumbing and froze.

Draco reacted first and ran from the tub. Hermione in quick succession and with three wand flicks from each of them they were dried, dressed and the tub and bathroom were magically sparkling clean. They grabbed each other's hands, almost absentmindedly and ran from the bathroom. In the hall they glanced both ways looking for Mrs. Norris or Mr. Filch and when they saw the coast was clear Hermione said, "That was.. fun. Thank you Draco."

"I would call it anything but fun Hermione but thank you too and, if it is any consolation, I'm sorry for violating your privacy."

"How did that taste?"

"Like a lie. I'd violate your privacy any day you'd let me."

She laughed and then she gave him light kiss on his cheek, released his hand and said, "Really, though, thank you for showing me your secrets and for an otherwise wonderful evening. Well, except for the rape part and terrible death eater burden and all that other stuff. I will help you in any way I can."

He kissed her back and looked at her as if she were the last source of hope for him and said, "I know you would. Goodnight Hermione."

"Goodnight." She turned on her heal and started to walk away and heard Draco say, "Wait!"

Turning she began, "What is i-"

Obliviate. "You will remember that you walked down this hall and that you took a nice long bath and fell asleep before Myrtle woke you. You will feel relaxed, at ease, and continue to think that Draco Malfoy is tall, rude git who hates mudbloods. You will not seek to protect him or defend him in anyway no matter the duress he is in."

Hermione entered the Griffindor common room ten minutes later and seeing Ginny next to the fire she joined her as the red head asked, "Where have you been? I checked the library but no one had seen you."

"It is the strangest thing, I remember being cold and going to the prefects bathroom to take a bath and then I must have fallen asleep. Myrtle woke me a couple hours later. Has there been any word from Harry?"

"He left to meet Dumbledore is all I know."

"Do you mind waiting up for him with me. For having taken such a long nap I still feel tired. Must be sleep inertia. Oh, you know I saw that smug git Malfoy on the fifth floor when I was leaving the prefect's bathroom. I just know he is up to something."

Ginny only shrugged and said, "Probably, when isn't he up to something?"

Hermione felt the ghost of a burning sensation on her lips at her words. Really Hermione, get it together. You and Malfoy will never, ever kiss.