My dears, I'm sorry this took so long. But here is the prequel you asked for.

Thank you for all your kind words and reviews. They are always greatly appreciated :)

Enjoy!

M x.

"Knock. Knock."

Draco Malfoy looked up from his desk with an annoyed snarl.

"What do you want, Blaise?" he snapped, indicating to the stack of reports piled nearly two feet high in front of him.

"Is that anyway to greet your best mate? I think not," Blaise cleared his throat and tapped his perfectly polished shoe. "Let's try again, shall we?"

"I don't have time for this. As you can see, the she-devil is going to have me at it until I've suffered a sufficient amount in order to appease her demented amusement."

Blaise's eyes twinkled with mischief.

"What did you do to our wonderful golden girl now?" he complained, dropping into the seat in front of his disgruntled friend.

Draco's eyes narrowed with malicious intent.

"What I did? Surely you jest," he scoffed before continuing on. "And she is most certainly not ours."

Blaise threw him a gloating look. Granger was the only person he knew who used the word 'jest' in regular conversation.

"Well mine, then," he amended.

Draco's eyes narrowed against his free will.

"What?" he snapped, sounding harsher than necessary.

"Mine. I said mine. Draco."

Blaise absolutely adored winding his best friend up and the easiest way to incense Malfoy was to romance Hermione Granger.

"That's the most ridiculous thing you've ever said. And I'm counting the excuse you came up with that night Snape caught you in his office with your pants down and your junk in a vial of his-"

Blaise waved his words away with nonchalance.

"The most promising day of Severus' teaching career, wouldn't you say?"

"You are shameless."

"Life of a God. You can either be all good, or all powerful, Draco, but you most certainly cannot be both," Blaise chided as he wagged a disapproving finger at him.

Draco raised an eyebrow in speculation.

"And what about pure evil?"

Blaise grinned with relish.

"You've yet to prove us wrong."

Draco turned his gaze back to the daunting pile of work.

"Right. And the reason for your little visit?" he encouraged, using his hands to indicate that Blaise better speed it up.

Blaise shrugged.

"I fancy a boy's night."

"Do you?"

"Yes, and I have the perfect little anecdote."

Blaise paused for dramatic effect.

"Which is?" Draco growled with impatience.

"Well new club just opened up and a friend of mine-"

"-What club? I haven't heard of any new clubs."

"Well of course you haven't. It's extremely exclusive. Even I can't get in."

"Oh but surely the thoroughly disabused Malfoy name is the answer to your prayers?" Draco asked with as much sarcasm as he could muster.

"Actually no. I'm speaking about an associate of mine. She is…"

Draco raised his eyebrows with suspicion.

"She's what?"

"An international model, heiress, gorgeous. Very well endowed."

"And she's the only one who can get you into this club?"

Blaise nodded.

"Why would I want to go with you and your newest conquest? Remember that weirdo who you hooked up with in Greece? The captain? Who kept the key to all his guest's rooms and rented them out to strangers? While we were sleeping in them?! I don't want a repeat of that—illuminating— experience."

"No darling, this will be completely different. I promise."

"Really, Blaise. I'm not in the mood."

"But she is extraordinarily wealthy Draco, and looking for investments. I mentioned you had a few ideas of your own you would be willing to pitch…"

"Blaise-"

"-Just one evening, my friend. You never spend anytime with me anymore!" he pouted like a petulant child. "I promise it will be worth it. I'll be back here in say…an hour? She works downstairs so we'll just swing by her office and grab her when we leave. And trust me, you will be delighted."

"Famous last words," Draco muttered, shaking his head. He sighed deeply before reluctantly turning his eyes towards Blaise. "Alright. Anything has to be better than paperwork. I'll bite."

"Don't let my mystery women hear you say that. She might want more than just your ideas."

"No really, Ginny. I'm not in the mood. I have about a thousand things to do."

"Come ON, Hermione. You always have a thousand things to do. And every single one of them is boring."

Hermione looked up in offense and dropped the laundry she was sorting through.

"My work is not boring."

"Hermione," Ginny tried. Her best friend was revving up for one of her rants.

"My hobbies are not boring-"

"-I never said they were-"

"-My social life is not boring!" she announced with slight hysteria.

"Hermione. Breathe."

"Seriously Ginny. I have a lot on my plate right now. So I would really appreciate you not interfering."

"I just think it would be good for you to get out a little. You know, get some fresh air."

"I get plenty of fresh air in the garden," Hermione snapped, pointing towards her desk.

Ginny looked over to the despondent display of succulents that had perished under Hermione's care. Only Hermione was capable of murdering plants that needed next to nothing to survive. But that was Hermione, always over doing it.

"I'm just saying-"

"-I know what you are saying! You're saying I have no life. That's what you are saying," she fumed as she violently sorted through her wrinkled clothes.

Ginny bit her lip to try and keep her mouth shut. But it was an impossible feat.

"I just think if you made a bit of effort-"

"-Effort! Ginny. Do you think these house-elves are going to represent themselves? I mean really! There is only so much I can delegate to Kreacher. I hardly have time for the poor dears, having to constantly report to your husband."

"I'm pretty sure you mean your best friend-" Ginny snapped.

"-And you forget that demonic snake I have to spend day in and day out with. Like being tossed into a torturous fire of bad hair and ferrety faces."

Ginny's lips curled up like a mischievous nymph.

"As if anyone could forget you two…the dynamic duo of destruction," Ginny sighed and gazed off, remembering a particularly juicy memory. "The image of Malfoy's head on fire as he ran screaming through the atrium of the Ministry is forever burned into my mind. Thank you, sweet friend," she finished, patting Hermione's arm with fondness and appreciation.

"I never thought I'd say this Ginny, but I seriously consider my sanity some days. I really do."

Ginny motioned to her friend to join her. Hermione dropped the laundry and landed on her bed. She took a deep breath and pressed her palms against her eyes. She knew it would be rude to hold them against her ears in order to block out Ginny's unbearable nagging, but it didn't stop her from considering it.

"I think we all wonder about your sanity, Hermione. I mean you did agree to work with him."

Hermione's head snapped up as she pierced her treacherous friend with an indignant glare.

"So this is my fault, then?"

"No, dear. It's your choice."

Hermione's shoulder's slumped. She threw herself back onto the bed.

"It's my day off. I just want to relax," she pleaded, wishing she'd locked her floo.

"No rest for the wicked," Ginny chirped as she began to sort through Hermione's clothes. "Now, as I was saying before you rudely interrupted me, I came by to invite you to a Feline and Fiction Festival," Ginny insisted with glee.

Hermione shot her a wary look.

"A what?"

"It's like a little party you bring your cat to, you mingle and swap books, or something," Ginny rummaged through her giant purse before whipping out a pamphlet. "Here."

Hermione scanned it, looking slightly interested and seemingly a bit perkier.

"Well this is certainly up my alley…" she paused, looking to Ginny again, who plastered an innocent expression across her face. "But why do you want to go to this?"

"I don't. But I'm a supportive friend."

"I see."

"Oh come on, Hermione. We can just check it out. We don't have to stay. But seriously, I think it would be great for Crooks to make some friends."

They both glanced at the giant ball of fur nestled atop the pile of clean laundry. Crookshanks hissed ominously at Ginny as if he knew exactly what she had up her sleeve.

"It will be fun," she insisted. "Maybe you'll meet someone with the same temperament as your…wonderful cat."

An hour later…

"Ginny, what are we doing here?" Hermione whispered as they strode down the darkened halls leading to The Department of Mysteries.

Hermione felt a chill creep down her spine as flashbacks of Lucius Malfoy's malevolent face popped before her eyes.

"I just forgot my purse down here."

"Ginny you're carrying your purse," Hermione huffed with exasperation.

"No silly, my other purse."

"And why is it down here?"

"Promise me you won't tell Harry, okay? I have a friend in the D of M who makes these really special glasses and I thought they would be the perfect gift for our anniversary," Ginny rattled on comfortably. "I left my galleons in that purse, so I had to come back with this purse and then I realized I had two purses so I forgot to take one and not the other- long story short."

"Mmmm," Hermione commented as she followed Ginny down the winding halls.

At last they appeared in front of a large black door. There was no handle. The second they reached it, a muffled cellphone began to ring in Ginny's purse.

She quickly reached for it, looked at the caller and then turned to Hermione.

"I have to take this, it's my Quidditch agent. And there's no service in there, can you just be a dear, run in and ask Dirk for my bag? He knows I'm coming."

Hermione rolled her eyes and Ginny turned away to answer the call.

Hermione felt a pang of anxiety shove against her, but she ignored it. This place was no Hall of Prophecies and her bravery always won out in the end. With a slight push, she entered the Room of Truths unknowingly.

Ginny only had a second to grin before she heard footsteps and echoing voices. Very carefully, she tiptoed around the corner and disappeared into the shadows of darkness.

"Blaise, I'm having trouble understanding why a disgustingly rich heiress would be spending her evening in the Department of Mysteries."

"I told you, Helena's father created some top secret weapon for the ministry and she's the liaison, so she pops in from time to time. When she's on the mainland, of course."

"Of course," Draco rolled his eyes.

"Right this way…"

Blaise was just about to open the door when a loud ringing resounded around them.

Draco started as Blaise reached into his perfectly tailored suit and pulled out a muggle device.

"What the bloody hell do you have one of those for?" Draco scoffed, looking offended.

Blaise glanced innocently at the ringing phone.

"It was a gift."

"Can we please get on with this already?" Draco whined, almost stomping his foot with annoyance.

"I need to take this. Can't manage to scrape a bar of service in there."

"A what?"

Blaise looked at him with pity.

"Draco, just go in there and tell her we are ready to leave."

"How do I know which one is 'Helena'?"

"Oh, trust me. You won't have any trouble figuring that out," Blaise crooned with delight and turned his attention back to his phone.

With the largest huff he could manage, Draco strode purposely to the door, not knowing the fate that lay just on the other side

Blaise answered the phone with a sinister smile plastered across his sensual lips.

"He's in."

"Good. So is she."

"And now-" Blaise turned in the direction of the quickly approaching footsteps.

"-We wait," Ginny confirmed as she snapped her phone shut and smiled at him with an equal amount of determined mischief.

Hermione looked around in wonder.

She had absolutely no idea what she wandered into. But it was far more peaceful than she'd expected. For one, she was outside; a bright blue sky above her as a soft wind blew. She looked out over spectacular rolling hills of green. This place looked very familiar.

She sighed to herself as she felt a sort of calm resolve come over her. Suddenly the thought of Ginny and the outside world seemed incredibly far away. Hermione searched her surroundings, wondering what all of this meant and if she'd accidently entered the wrong room.

She called out, but there was no answer.

"Hello?" she echoed, climbing a bit higher up the hill and gazing around sharply.

That was when she saw it.

An albino peacock.

It was staring at her indignantly. As if she'd personally offended it by existing. It squawked at Hermione in a haughty manor before ruffling its feathers and turning away.

Hermione blanked. As much as she would rather drink acid than admit it, her mind immediately swung to Trelawney and bad omens.

A strong wind whipped around her as the sky darkened in a foreboding way. She could hear thunder gathering speed in the distance.

Hermione's eyes narrowed as she spun around feeling a lot less serene.

And there he was, just shutting the door as a great shock of lightening split through the sky.

"Wait!" Hermione shrieked, reaching towards the only escape she could see. But the door was already gone, disappeared from view.

And standing in its place was none other than Draco Malfoy.

"You idiot!" she wailed, gesturing wildly towards where the door had been moments earlier.

Draco looked at her like she was insane.

He shook his head once and glanced sharply at the sky-frowning in confusion. He gave another look back towards where he'd come from and then carefully surveyed the woman in front of him.

"Did you say something?" he muttered, once again looking up.

"I called you an idiot!" Hermione hissed, chaotic thoughts whiplashing around in her brain.

"What are you doing here, Granger?" he snapped, turning his attention on her as he strode forward, decimating her personal space.

"What am I-?" she stopped, momentarily stunned by his fierce features. Hermione closed her eyes. "I came to get Ginny's purse, if you must know. And you?"

"Zabini asked me to grab an associate of his."

"Grab? I'm sorry did I hear that correctly?"

"Escort, if you will. I don't go grabbing women, Granger."

"Well isn't that refreshing to hear."

"Where is she?" he snapped impatiently, looking around.

Hermione laughed with cruelty.

"Oh Malfoy, you jest."

He looked at her as his mouth twitched with what could have been humour.

"Jest? I do not. What is this place?"

"How should I know?"

"Don't you know everything?" Draco jeered, spinning around and eyeing the sky warily. "Where did the door go?"

"I don't know."

Hermione's brow furrowed as she stalked up to the missing door and began to wave her wand and mutter incantations.

"How do we get out?" he demanded.

"Magic doesn't work in here," she muttered, ignoring him and stashing her wand.

"Well aren't you full of useless information."

Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath before turning to face the monster that consumed her life almost every waking—and sleeping—moment.

"Thank you, Draco. That's the nicest thing you've said to me all year."

"Well we know I could never say anything nice about that rat's nest you call hair," he grimaced, gesturing towards her head as if it were diseased.

Hermione crossed her arms so tightly it was looking likely that it would take decades for her to unravel.

"Tell me, oh Wise One, do you have any ideas of why we are here?"

"A sick joke that makes me want to vomit, comes to mind."

"Don't you find it suspicious that Ginny and Blaise both lured us here?"

"To what end? To what purpose?" he growled, as he began to pace. "Where are we?"

Hermione glanced around suspiciously as if looking for something she couldn't see.

"I've purposely avoided The Department of Mysteries for years. I don't know why she would bring me here. Certainly not all the happy memories."

"What?" he asked distractedly as he watched her walk in circles.

"Oh just fond remembrances of your father trying to murder me."

She saw his shoulders tense and his hand twitch towards his wand. Hermione narrowed her eyes. It looked as if he were trying very hard to keep his temper in control.

"Don't talk about my father," he spoke in barely a whisper.

Hermione felt unnerved by the softness of his tone. She cleared her throat uncomfortably.

"We can't stay here," she insisted, turning her gaze back to the storm clouds.

"And where do you propose we go?"

"Look Malfoy, I don't want to be locked out here anymore than you do,"

"In."

"What?"

"Locked in here," he corrected with maddening superiority.

"We don't even know where here is!"

Hermione felt her temper snapping.

Malfoy deadpanned her before a far away look entered his eyes. He let out an unexpected bark of humor. Was he drunk?

"I know where I am now! Hell. Yes! This is definitely hell."

"You are absurd," she spat as he twirled around laughing like a deranged lunatic.

"Only in a Universe where I am trapped with you is Draco Malfoy sent to the deepest lair of Hades."

"Worse than Azkaban?" she smiled sweetly, watching his face once again harden like granite.

"Have you been sharpening your claws?" he drawled, giving her a seductive stare that mingled with malevolence.

"I've been using your backbone," she shot back, feeling hot waves of passionate fury course through her body.

"Let me tell you something princess," he annunciated with his perfectly white teeth,

"Oh Malfoy, your flattery is beyond anything I imagined you capable of, it must be your greatest strength," she mocked with a little bow.

"You think because you are famous and brilliant that you can talk down to the rest of us like we are trash?" he hissed, his eyes narrowing as he once again stepped up to her with a threatening air.

"The rest of us? Former Death Eaters you mean?"

His jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth and closed his eyes.

"Granger you are very close to crossing an extremely dangerous line."

"Consider it crossed," she spat with recklessness. "Let me tell you something, Draco, for years all you did was talk down to me and treat me like mud dried to the bottom of your most worthless shoes. You insulted me, attacked me, watched me get tortured—yet you can stand here and accuse me of belittling you? You're unbelievable."

"I just didn't realize you were such a hypocrite."

"That's a weak, worthless argument and you know it."

"I never asked for my life!"

"Poor you," she hissed with as much contempt as she could manage.

"No, listen to me Granger."

"No! You listen! You listen once in your miserable life instead of shooting your mouth off every time you have the opportunity to breathe. You are selfish and cruel and mean spirited and I cannot stand a single thing about you. Yet, here we are, stuck together—as usual— and trying to sort through a crisis. It's our job, is it not? So instead of you sitting here blaming me for everything, why don't you actually help me crack this ridiculous room and get us both out of here so I don't have to spend another unnecessary moment in your despicable company."

"Best thing you've said all day. I couldn't agree more."

"Great," she huffed and turned away from his smirking visage.

"And just so you know. I absolutely despise you," he remarked sweetly.

"The feeling is aggressively mutual, Malfoy."

They stared at one another, both refusing to back down, to look away. She wanted to hurt him. He wanted to strangle her. She wanted to run her fingers through Draco's hair and kiss the hate away. He wanted to possess her, steal her fire and make Hermione his own.

The two stood, unaware of the racing thoughts caressing their brains, so completely absorbed in one another's eyes. Their emotions were chaotic, their walls too high—now a storm was coming and the dam would break. They were to be torn open.

The sky suddenly unleashed its fury and rain began to pour down on them, soaking them within seconds to the bone.

"What are you staring at?" he snarled as his eyes roamed over her body.

Hermione felt herself flush with indignant heat at his piercing gaze.

"What's the plan?" she called over the rising wind.

Draco slicked his wet hair back off his face and stalked closer to her. The drops clinging to his absurdly long lashes caused Hermione to pause as she studied him with unwilling interest.

"You tell me," he insisted, staring down at her with demand. "You're the know-it-all, the bushy little Gryffindork with half the library shoved up her arse," his eyes darkened with something she couldn't quite interpret. "Letting that pathetic Ginger try with desperation to replace your precious books with his tiny coc-"

Hermione reacted with impulse, letting her hand fly back to come crashing down on his perfect face. But he was quick and before she was able to strike, his hands clenched down on her arms and he pulled her against him.

The moment they touched, a wild spark of magic exploded around them.

The wind rose to a crescendo. The rain turned to hail and pelted them with fury.

Draco could feel his feet leaving the ground. He tried to throw Granger from him but his hands were stuck to her as if frozen in ice.

He heard her scream as the landscape around them began to blur. The faster they spun the less Draco could see, though he could feel Hermione's warm body pressed tightly against him.

Draco closed his eyes. The darkness enveloped them as they disappeared from the present and into the crushing unknown.

They landed with a hard thud on a rumbling and dusty floor, still embraced in one another's arms.

"What the…" Draco began, as Hermione shoved herself away from him, attempting to wipe any contact between them off of her with relish.

Draco glared at her but remained silent.

"Where are we?" she whispered, shaking her head clear.

"I thought that would have been pretty obvious, even for a Muggle like yourself," he sneered, swiping viciously at the dust on his suit.

"It must be terrible to only be able to function in one world. Not all people have the intelligence to handle the knowledge of two different yet equally important societies," Hermione lectured snootily as she pulled a chocolate frog wrapper out of her hair.

"Clever."

"And obviously I know where we are. But when, I think is the question I was looking for."

"Well keep looking," he snapped, getting to his feet as Hermione gazed around in wonder. How the hell had they managed to end up here?

They exited the cart of the Hogwarts Express and quickly confirmed that no one aboard could see them.

"This must be some sort of pensive," Hermione murmured, eyeing him warily. "A collective memory, perhaps."

"A what?" he demanded, slightly distracted by the way she brushed past him and took the lead.

Draco clutched his hands into fists, training his eyes away from her saucy figure as he followed her quick steps.

Hermione stopped short suddenly and Draco barreled into her. She gasped with shock and Draco suppressed a moan as he felt her soft curves fall against him.

"Easy Granger, I thought you were only a menace in heels."

He was disappointed when she ignored his witty quip. But he soon realized something was terribly amiss.

"Malfoy," she breathed, pointing with one hand towards a carriage. Draco's sharp eyes followed her movements. "It's me."

Her voice was like a caress— to have her speak so gently towards him was incredibly shocking and new. Choosing for once to keep his snide mouth shut, Malfoy moved closer to look over her shoulder.

Lo and behold, there sat a tiny Hermione Granger, chatting away to Ron Weasley and Harry Potter. But neither she nor Draco could hear the words that were being spoken. Instead, the only voice they could distinguish was Hermione's- but it was coming from above them, as if through a sound system.

Oh I'm so nervous. I hope everyone likes me. How will I know who to be friends with? What if I'm not good enough? I should have re-read my books at least three more times…

Draco grabbed Granger and turned her around to stare at her, she looked back at him defiantly, her cheeks red with embarrassment.

Malfoy was too amazed to care.

"Granger. Are those your thoughts?"

"What an stupendous deduction, Malfoy," she snapped as she looked down at his hands once again touching her.

They stared at their connected flesh before pulling away quickly and averting their eyes.

"You were a loser and no one liked you," he offered with an evil grin.

Hermione ignored him. She had just spotted her childhood nemesis.

Draco blanked at the absurd image striding towards him, he looked between the memory of his younger self and Hermione, trying to figure out which one he should hex first.

"Granger, I really don't think-"

"-Shut up Malfoy," she swatted him away as 1st year Draco approached. They watched silently as he paused in front of the carriage, peaking in.

That's Harry Potter? Who are his friends? Red head covered in filth and shabby clothing, must be a Weasley. But…who is she? Her hair looks so soft…it's the most beautiful hair I've ever seen-

Before Hermione could open her mouth, Draco grabbed her by the arm and yanked her down the train corridor. But the sound of Malfoy's thoughts continued to follow as if glued to their ears.

-What's she doing with these losers? I'll show her a real wizard. She'll see.

Draco's teeth were clenched so tight he thought his jaw would combust from the pressure. He shoved Granger in front of him to hurry up, but she stopped suddenly and turned on the spot, knocking their chests together.

She raised an eyebrow and looked up at him with a gloating smirk. She lifted a piece of her long curly hair and playfully slapped him in the face with it. She watched with glee, as he turned red with fury.

It was always fun to count the amount of times the vein in his temple throbbed when she got under his skin. And oh Merlin was she under.

This trip to the Department of Mysteries must have been a precious gift from Ginny: to watch Malfoy wallow in humiliation over his childhood crush on her.

His eyes darkened to storm grey as he slapped her hair away from him and grabbed her roughly by the arms.

"That was before I knew you were a-" he snarled, but was unable to complete his sentence as the smile quickly dropped from Hermione's features.

"A what exactly?" she pressed.

He paused, catching his breath. He was unable to look in her eyes.

He let go over her quickly and stepped back.

There was a pause, Hermione held her breath, waiting for him to cut her deep one more time.

"A pest," he whispered, chancing a glance at her.

Before she could answer, the ground began to shake and the two reached for one another—involuntarily of course—as the memory around them evaporated and they were once more plunged into darkness.

The sunlight hit them and Hermione realized at once where they were.

Draco shielded his eyes as he scanned their surroundings. And then he felt his stomach drop.

"Oh boy do I remember this. One of your greatest accomplishments to date, Malfoy."

"I think you mean, Weasley's greatest accomplishment ever—besides getting into bed with you," he finished under his breath as Hermione glared at him with undiluted rage.

They stood silently side-by-side as second year Draco Malfoy came swaggering towards the trio with his new broom, ready to prove himself to the masses.

"And you see there, Malfoy? You see right there? That was you instigating a fight with us, like it always was."

He ignored her, feeling queasy in his stomach and trying desperately to remember the thoughts that led him to this moment.

But it was Granger's voice that they heard.

Oh please don't come over here. Please, please, please. Why does he want to fight all the time? Why is he so unhappy? It's obviously all an act. Is he really that jealous of Harry?

Hermione felt him tense beside her as her voice rang out, echoing over the courtyard. But that was nothing compared to Draco's thoughts which overtook her own quite quickly.

Look at them, all perfect together. It makes me sick. How can she possibly enjoy their company? She's brilliant. And I'm brilliant. And this broom and my new position will most definitely get her attention.

Hermione couldn't stand to look at him. She didn't even attempt to. She knew what was coming: Draco made some snarky comment insulting Harry, Hermione took a jab at his ego and Quidditch skills and then he'd said the fateful word, the word that would bleed from his mouth every time he'd lay eyes on her for the next five years.

She heard his intake of breath as they watched the scene unfold. Both of them completely silent, but their thoughts, their thoughts were so loud.

Hermione's were a jumble of feelings: embarrassment, sadness, disappointment, confusion, and fury. She could feel them whipping around through the gathering air.

But once again, Draco's were louder, more furious. He was jealous, spiteful, scared, lost and desperate for someone to care.

The feelings swirled around them like hypnotic mist, fusing and crushing into one another, allowing each to feel the other's pain and linking them with a bond of understanding.

Hermione shuddered, gasping as she tried to catch her breath from the intense emotions sweeping through her. Draco almost stumbled to his knees.

"Granger," he rasped, as he attempted to fight the growing wind to get closer to her. "We need to get out of here."

She nodded with determination, reaching out to him and grasping his fingers tightly in hers.

Then they were spinning.

They landed with a hard thud, the breath coming back into them simultaneously.

"What the fuck was that?"

I believe that was the day you targeted me as your enemy."

"Right," he muttered distracted, rubbing his chest. "That hurt."

"Yes," she replied softly. "It did."

Draco reluctantly lifted his eyes to hers.

"I was a nasty little prick, you know this."

"Yes, I just don't know why you had to be so cruel."

"Well I have the horrible feeling that you're going to find out before this twisted ride down memory lane is finished."

They fell silent.

Hermione was torn between extreme discomfort and curiosity. How was it that Malfoy was able to feel anything but contempt for her, as she did him. That was all she felt, wasn't it? Right?

She needed to get out.

"Draco, how long do you think this is going to go on for?"

"Honestly I don't know, but if we keep exchanging emotions, I think I will break. The last place I want to be is in your head. Or mine."

"Agreed. We need to get out of here. I just…I don't know where here is!" she cried in exasperation. Hermione hated when she had no solution to a problem. "So it seems like we have to just let this…run it's course."

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" he spat with disgust. "You're loving this complete and utter humiliation."

And you're not!?" she accused. "Malfoy, out of the two of us, who was the bully? Who did the humiliating?"

"It's so funny you ask," he turned gesturing towards the sloping hills of the front lawn.

They were once again at Hogwarts.

Hermione paused, looking around.

"Isn't that you?" he drawled. "About to punch me in the face?"

"Oh you rotten little shite! You had Buckbeak murdered!"

"No, I didn't, he escaped and you punched me in the face regardless."

He looked at her warily as she attempted to recover. Her days of the time turner were deeply buried thoughts she associated with the place they were currently trapped in.

"You were vile," she insisted.

He threw her an infuriating grin.

"Bully."

Oh I hate his face. I hate him so much. He's so evil. Why is he so evil? What did I ever do to him? What did any of us do? I feel sorry for him. He clearly has never known friendship or love.

"My judge and jury," Malfoy intoned sardonically. "So understanding."

"Well someone had to be," she retorted with immense irritation.

Damn Mudblood, that's quite the hook you got, you crazy bitch. If you weren't already so dirty, I'd take you right in this mud. Fuck, I want you. Hit me again.

"Wow. Malfoy. Wow," Hermione couldn't stop herself from speaking. The words were still echoing in her ears like blaring alarms as she turned and crossed her arms, waiting for an explanation.

"Hormones," he muttered with a twitch and a scowl. "I was a teenage boy, for fucks sake Granger, I would have stuck it in Madam Sprout if I had the opportunity. You aren't special," he added for impact.

"Certainly not. Would you like me to hit you again?"

"In your wildest dreams," he taunted, before becoming serious. "I don't think we should go any further."

"Do we have a choice?"

"We can try to apparate."

"You don't think I tried that along with every spell I know? You're wasting your breath. Besides, what is it that you're so scared to face?"

He looked at her gravely but didn't respond. Hermione felt her confidence slip a notch. There were things she'd thought throughout the years, moments that she really hoped they wouldn't be revisiting. But it looked as if they had no choice in the matter.

"After you," she indicated, holding out her hand.

Malfoy gave her a fathomless expression before carefully entwining his own fingers with hers. He gave a great sigh. Hermione wondered if he was torn between kissing and killing her.

But before she could further contemplate the question, they were once again spinning off into oblivion.

They landed amongst the chaos of raging fires and sanity shrieking screams.

Both Hermione and Draco whipped around, drawing their wands. It took a moment, their reflexes so trained for battle, before realizing they were not in any immediate danger.

Hermione slipped her wand back into her boot before turning and surveying the madness.

"Quidditch World Cup," she supplied, with a raised brow.

But Draco was ignoring her, his attention focused on a copse of trees a few meters away.

I'm worried this is all connected to Harry. I can't stop worrying about him. I can't.

"How touching," sneered Draco as he approached the fourteen year old golden trio and stared down at them with bitterness. His eyes lingered on Ron's arm thrown over Hermione's shoulder.

The present day Hermione jumped as Draco's furious thoughts inundated the scene.

What are those bloody idiots doing hanging around here with her? She's going to get herself killed. I don't care. I don't care. But they should, shouldn't they? They are her friends. Stupid mudblood, she wouldn't be in this situation if she chose me.

"What!?" Hermione exploded. She turned away from the memory of Draco intruding on their conversation and boasting that the Death Eaters were after Mudbloods.

"Granger-"

She held her hand up to silence him.

"Chose you? Chose you for what exactly? What choice did you ever give me?"

He stared at her, his mouth open with absolutely nothing to say.

"Answer me Draco! What the hell does that mean?"

It felt like a century before he decided to choose his words carefully.

"It wasn't about you, Granger. I wanted whatever Potter had."

"Harry never had me. I am his friend. Not his possession," she seethed, stepping up to him.

He shrugged nonchalantly.

"Same difference really."

She exploded.

"It is not! That's where you're wrong again and again. You view people as conquests, things you can buy and charm, or humiliate and destroy, all for your own sick pleasure."

"I was a kid."

"So was I!"

He stepped even closer. She could feel his hot breath pressing against her skin.

"Well lucky for you Granger, you had friends and people who gave a shite about you. Your friends wanted to be with you for you. Mine wanted my connections and money. My own parents didn't give a fuck about me. And then to have to watch the sickeningly pathetic way you would throw yourself into Potter and Weasley's arms."

"I love them, they are my friends!" Hermione hollered, not quite understanding when this conversation had escalated. They were standing so close now, that heat was radiating between them.

"And I hated it! I hate it!" he spat with jealously glowing in his mad eyes.

"Why! Why? I don't understand! We never wanted to fight with you, but you made it impossible," she cried, desperately trying to ignore the ache in her heart.

"What was my other option? To become a groveling fool like Weasley at the sight of the Chosen One?" he sneered as his eyes dropped to her lips.

"You could have been our friend!"

Hermione was seconds from ripping out her own hair in frustration.

"What?" he whispered.

"I said-" she began with temper.

"-I bloody heard you."

They fell silent. Chests heaving, eyes glaring, hearts trying desperately to stay hidden.

"Oh no, oh no," Hermione moaned as the ground began to shift. However, no blackness consumed them.

Instead, it seemed as if time and location shifted forward around them, spinning quickly by, until snow coated the ground and they could hear music coming from the balconies and glowing windows of the Great Hall.

"The Yule Ball."

Hermione was already off, pacing quickly through the snow as a sort of excitement crept through her veins. She recalled this as her most successfully excessive evening at Hogwarts. She was not one for material nonsense and overstated beauty, but she couldn't help to remember the look of utter shock on Malfoy's face when he'd seen her.

She bit her lip as he followed after her, a grim look slapped across his handsome face; it was clear his mind was on the same memory as hers.

"Granger-" he started as they entered the castle side-by-side.

Hermione beamed around at all the familiar faces. This was a pleasant memory, one that could not be damped by the presence of Draco Malfoy. It had been a magical evening, even if it had been cut short because of Ron's immaturity.

Draco heard himself before he saw himself.

Bloody stupid ball, Merlin I wish she'd stop talking. Stop talking you insufferable cow! Do you have even one brain cell firing off in that thick skull of yours?

"Charming as ever," Hermione smirked as she lifted a glass of champagne to her lips.

Draco balked at her.

"Where did you get that?"

"What?"

"Where did you get the champagne?"

Hermione looked down in surprise at the glass she was holding.

"Oh, I guess it just appeared."

"I want one," he pouted, eyeing the drink.

"Well maybe you haven't earned one, yet."

"Earned one?"

"You know, from the room," she gestured, feeling light.

"Right. The room."

Hermione gave him a coy smile and sipped her bubbly, as if she'd figured out some secret and was waiting for the moment he would catch on.

He gave her a once over, enjoying the curves that complimented her perfectly.

She threw him a perplexed look.

So nervous, so nervous, can't believe I'm doing this. My hair better not get bushy. You can do this. You're a lioness. Be brave, sleek, independent and sensual. Cool and calm. Remember page 134 of Witches Guide to-

Draco was smirking so big it almost looked as if he were smiling with genuine amusement.

Hermione smiled lazily, suddenly unbothered by all that was happening around her. She knew what was coming and she wanted to hear it so badly. The champagne was giving her bad ideas. Ideas she hadn't thought of in a very long time. How long exactly? Two nights? Yes, she hadn't thought about the disgusting snake beside her for at least two nights. Right?

That's not. It…isn't.

At the sound of Draco's thoughts, Hermione instinctively spun around. Her eyes landed on memory Draco, decked out in his dress robes. He had dropped his arm from Pansy's waist and he was staring at Hermione descending the grand staircase with unrelenting need and jealously.

Hermione expected praise, assumed her would tell her how beautiful she was. She couldn't wait for the moment she would be able to throw it back in his selfish face.

But the words he thought were not the ones she was expecting. And that realization nearly knocked the wind from her.

I'm so sorry, for all I will do and all I have done. I wish I could be more like you. That I could be better…we are on different paths that can never cross. I hate you, but that's only because I can't have you.

Deathly silence.

And then she lost it.

"You despicable monster!"

"Hermione-"

"You knew! You knew you would go on to be one of them," she raged, recalling a flash of Malfoy Manor.

Draco followed her thought process, his eyes darkening.

"I swear, I didn't, Granger come on, that's not fair," he protested with a note of desperation.

"Not fair!?"

"I just wanted to get away from you. You went against everything I knew."

"You knew nothing!" she stormed away from him, across the hall and out through the snow. "Nothing!"

He followed her.

"You think I don't know that?!" he raged back at her. "You think I don't regret what I did every day?"

"I don't know! Do you? Is that what this is? You attempting to assuage your own guilt for all the abuse you wrought on me?" she spat furiously.

"Granger you can't possibly believe that this was my idea. Dammit woman, you know I can't be in a room with you for more than two minutes without wanting to rip your head off."

"Malfoy you are driving me insane!"

"Yes. Yes it's actually on my daily schedule. And I promise I will stop if you just get us out of here."

"I don't know where we are!" she shrieked, feeling madness envelope her.

He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her violently.

"I can't keep doing this, do you understand!? I refuse to listen to anymore. I don't want to remember, I don't want to know."

"And you think I do? Get it together, Malfoy. I can't have you going to pieces on me here."

"This is Potter's fault. I bet you, if anything your precious Chosen One is behind this," he snarled with fury.

"Harry would never play a trick so dirty. He's too good," she taunted, continuing to stalk away from him through the deep snow.

"Don't make me vomit."

"I'm serious, he has nothing to do with this."

"If I find out, that he did-" he began threateningly.

"Then we will extract him for all he's worth and torture him until the end of days."

"Well at least we are on the same page there."

"Quite."

It was only moments later that the ground began to shift beneath their feet and Hermione was unceremoniously dumped by the fates, straight into Draco Malfoy's arms.

They were outside the Room of Requirement.

"A favorite haunt of us both, I believe," Draco drawled as he stepped aside and allowed her to enter first.

"Coward," she hissed, throwing him a dirty glower from over her shoulder.

Draco followed her, his eyes glued to her form, wanting nothing more than to toss her against the wall and mark her as his own. He pushed down his nightmarish desires as he raised an eyebrow and swept a disdainful look over the room that Dumbledore's Army used to practice in.

Fifteen-year-old Hermione was alone, practicing by herself. Unnoticed, fifteen-year-old Draco hid in the shadows watching her.

"You absolute creep."

"Umbridge ordered us to spy on you. That's what I was doing."

"Rubbish. If she knew where our headquarters were she would have stormed the place. You kept this information from her for months according to this memory. Why?"

Hermione expected a snarky comment, a nasty quip. But Draco was lost in the memory as he watched her send hex after hex barreling from her wand.

"I was impressed," he replied.

"You what?"

"Your skills Granger, they were…above average," he spat, grinding his teeth at her glowing expression of triumph.

"Are. They are above average."

"And you say I'm arrogant."

"So you stalked me?"

He growled at her.

"I…wanted to…"

"Learn?"

"I just didn't believe your magic was as good as mine," he rushed out begrudgingly.

"And? What conclusion did you come to?" she mocked, knowing the truth.

It's better.

The thought ripped through the room startling the both of them.

Hermione took a deep breath, she knew she could use this moment to crush him, to laugh in his face and taunt him about the ignorance of his blood purity. But instead, she found herself feeling compassion towards his honestly, his acceptance that she belonged, even if he couldn't say it out loud.

"Thank you," she whispered, unable to meet his stunning gaze.

"Granger, don't you dare fucking thank me ever again. Do you understand?"

She nodded, hiding her smile. Though it was short-lived, for she knew what was to come.

The feelings took over and they once again lost their breath, clinging to the walls of their memories as time once again shifted.

They followed a mad and muttering Draco up the stairs to the astronomy tower.

Malfoy had gone silent and the tension that was radiating off of him was enough for Hermione to know she should most certainly keep her mouth shut.

The Draco from the memory was shaking with fever. He climbed the stairs as his thoughts rained down on them like acid and exploding wands.

I can't do this. I've failed. They are going to kill mother and me. I never wanted this. I never wanted this. Please take this away. I can't do it. I have to do it. I can't do it. I have to do it.

All three of them stopped as soft cries emanated from the closed door to their right. Very carefully, memory Draco pried open the door and looked inside.

Their sat Hermione, her face buried in her hands, a few small yellow birds twittering softly above her head.

She's too smart to cry over that dumb fuck Weasley. Draco's memory echoed all around them. I should help her. You can't help her.

"You didn't, for the record," Hermione offered waspishly. "Help me, that is."

Draco gave her a bored stare before motioning down the corridor.

"You didn't want my help. And here comes Harry Potter to save the day."

With brains like hers, I can't believe she would cry over such filth.

"Filth? Really Draco?"

"Not worthy to touch you, I meant," he spoke softly.

"I didn't know you were there," she whispered, distracted as she watched memory Draco watch her. It was an odd sensation.

"Neither did I."

He was staring at her again.

Ugh I hate Ron. How could he do this to me? I can do better though, can't I? Well Malfoy doesn't think so. But it doesn't matter what he thinks, Mister Perfect. No one is good enough for Malfoy. He's so in love with himself, it's pathetic.

"Ouch," he taunted, giving her a nasty leer. "You shrew, Granger. Though I have to say, it really boosts my ego to see you were thinking about me as a rebound. You imagine 'better than Weasley', and I spring to mind."

"In a million and a half years, Malfoy. A million and a half."

"We'll see."

Hermione blushed at the confidence in his tone.

"Are you actually going to pretend that you care or think about anyone other than yourself?"

"Pretend? You mean act?" he asked with pettiness.

"The world is your stage, Draco Malfoy," she sighed, leaning against the wall, crossing her arms and giving him her most intrusive stare.

He mirrored her actions with haughtiness. And then they were once again locked in a battle.

I want you. I hate you. I want you. I hate you.

"Let's end this here, Granger. I've had enough."

"Malfoy, I think I made it clear that I am not in control of his situation," she stressed, beginning to feel the onset of a migraine.

"I really hope we aren't headed where I think we are headed next."

But before Hermione could contemplate where that might be, the stairs beneath their feet began to rumble. The wind was too strong and Draco was beginning to blur around the edges. He was disappearing and she couldn't reach him. She let out a cry of shock as the stairs exploded and the walls crumbled.

The sound of wild screams filled her ears and her vision tunneled into blackness.

And then she was falling.

"Malfoy!" she yelled, feeling panic incase her from the inside out.

She landed on her knees in the dark. It looked as if she were in some sort of abandoned mansion.

All was silent.

"Malfoy!" she yelled again, getting no response except for the echo of her own terrified voice.

She waited until her eyes adjusted to wander slowly forward and take in these new surroundings.

That's when she heard it: whispers coming from the end of a dark and dank corridor. She followed the path, realizing only too soon that she was in the bowels of Malfoy Manor.

There were two people huddled in a corner, speaking with quick, fearful breaths.

It was Malfoy and his mother. Their conversation was urgent, but again she could only hear Draco's thoughts.

How do you not understand mother? I had to watch them torture her. They are going to save her for father. He knows- Voldemort knows how much I care—he's been inside my head. He's going to destroy her, in front of me. He's going to give her to Lucius. I must do something. I can't let them destroy her. Not after she escaped, not after she survived. She can't die. I'll give it all. I'll give anything— punish me— just don't let her die.

Hermione could feel waves of regret and horror washing over her like a wild monsoon. She was wrapped in the heartbreak, the overwhelming loneliness of Draco Malfoy's demons and she could not escape.

Draco was trapped in his own nightmare.

One he never wanted to relive ever again.

There on his living room floor, his demented aunt continued to torture Hermione as if her life depended on it. And all Granger thought over and over again was that he would step in, that he would do something. That no matter how vile and ignorant he was, surely he would never allow this to happen.

Draco will save me. Draco will save me. Draco, can you hear me? Draco please, please, help me. Please. Help me.

He felt guilt like he'd never experienced before. The horror of it brought him to his knees as he felt his heart explode with excruciating pain, as if every single one of Bellatrix's Crucios hit him all at once. Draco's stomach heaved as he vomited whiskey and blood onto the floor.

"No!" he screamed as tears tore down his cheeks and he pounded his fists against the floors. "No! I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Hermione. Please, forgive me. Fucking hell, forgive me!"

He was sure his sanity would snap, but then he was drifting in darkness and the horror before him disappeared.

It was silent for the span of a heartbeat, a brief moment of peace.

Seconds later the sounds of battle inundated Draco's ears. Magic exploding and people dying forced him to open his eyes. He knew where he was.

The final battle.

Draco stumbled across the darkened grounds, daylight almost breaking the sky, which would be lost amongst the clouds of black smoke and destruction. He felt it all come back to him, as if he were once again there, terrified and lost.

He struggled through the distressed moans of half dead casualties, looking for Granger. He heard her cry from across the field as he watched wizard cut down wizard without a second thought.

And then he was running.

He had to reach her, had to see it all again. Had to know he'd made the right choice.

As he got closer to the edge of the forest, he saw her rushing towards him. He had to help her.

Draco watched in horror as Hermione's bloody, battered memory dropped to its knees in exhaustion.

Lucius Malfoy emerged victorious from a duel several feet behind her. Draco watched as his demented father spotted Hermione. He watched as he crept closer, the curse to bind her to him as his slave already sliding from his tongue.

"Draco!"

He whipped around with fury.

There was the real Hermione. She'd just crested the hill. She was breathing hard, her gaze filled with panic as she took in the memory.

Draco watched as her hands flew to her mouth; she was experiencing a truth she'd never seen before-materializing right before her eyes.

As Lucius brought his wand down to capture her memory, a streak of green light flashed from behind him and the Malfoy patriarch keeled over, his wrath still plastered across his face.

Hermione screamed in shock, while the Hermione in battle got to her feet without second hesitation at the blast behind her and took off.

And there was the memory of Draco Malfoy, dressed all in black, his wand steady in his shaking hand. His eyes piercing her back, his jaw set as he watched her run.

If only she'd looked back.

I love you, Hermione.

She jumped at the sound of the thought. Unable to process what she was experiencing. Instead she crumbled to her knees, much like her younger self had and stared off into space.

Draco stood unmoving, just watching the emotions fly across her face.

Slowly it all dissolved.

The battle was over, the fields clear, and Hermione realized this was where the room had begun. Where they had started this journey to the core. They'd come full circle.

The sun peered through the clouds as the storm receded, leaving the two in utter silence.

Draco slowly approached her, gazing around in relief.

"Granger,"

She looked up at him, catching him off guard. Her eyes were filled with tears.

"After everything," she began in a hushed voice, closing her eyes. "You saved my life."

He crouched down at her side, giving her a stern look.

"No Granger, you saved mine."

There was a pause as she took in the meaning of his words. She gasped as his eyes softened. He gently reached out to stroke a lock of her hair back from her shocked face.

And then she threw herself into his arms.

She was kissing Draco Malfoy. And she didn't care.

All the tension and anger and uncertainty fled out of her and onto his lips. He devoured her for what felt like hours. Only when they were both gasping for air, did she pull herself away from him with a harsh gasp.

"How?"

"How?" he scoffed, tracing his fingers down her face and neck. "You tested me all those years. And each time I saw you, it got harder and harder. So I had to make it easier. I had to make you despise me. I had to let you go. All that hate was… the only thing I could give you."

She pulled back from his strong arms and gave him a perplexed frown.

"How can you possibly tell me you hated me and still make it sound romantic?"

He rolled his eyes with exasperation.

"Granger you're the missing point."

"Thank you."

"I told you not to say that," he spat with a glare.

"You don't get to tell me what to say," she snapped.

He sighed with the patience of a poltergeist.

"Fine Granger, just fine."

"You know, we are going to have to talk about this at some point," she warned, gesturing around them at the empty field.

"I don't think today is that day."

"How long do you think we've been in here?" she asked curiously.

"Who's to say?"

"You know there is nothing wrong with thinking thoughts per se, Draco," she chastised.

He felt the beginnings of a scolding coming on. Damn, did he love when she got bossy with him, even if he was loath to admit it—even to himself.

"But?"

"But there's no way you love me."

"Don't tell me that's what you took from this little excursion into our most private memories."

"It's been proven that you can't love anyone but yourself."

"That was just disputed. You were hardly aware but now you know what I'm capable of. Besides, our thoughts prove otherwise."

"Your thoughts. I never said anything about wanting anything."

"Didn't you?" he leaned in and once more kissed her deeply. She sighed unwillingly into his perfect mouth. "Granger you realize when I walked into this room, before you noticed me, I could hear every thought in that brilliant brain of yours? It was just long enough for me to deduce how much you want me. How much you care. The last two years have been…challenging, but clearly satisfying, partner."

He smirked with arrogance and she felt her temper flare.

"That's a lie. I couldn't hear anything you were thinking."

"Granger, in The Room of Truths, the last one to enter is the first one to see."

She blanked, her jaw dropping open in confusion.

"The what?"

"The Room of Truths," he repeated with a heavy dose of patronization.

"Did you just make that up?"

"No. It says it right there."

"Where?"

"Are you bloody blind, Granger? On the back of the door," he snapped.

Hermione whipped around. Out of nowhere, the door had returned to the middle of the empty field. On the back of it was a sign:

Thank you for visiting the Room of Truths. The last one to enter is the first one to see. Come back for free.

"Unlikely," Hermione muttered with relief as she looked away from Draco and headed towards the exit. "Well I have some research to do!" she sounded ridiculously giddy.

Draco raised an eyebrow in amusement.

"Granger?"

She turned back, her thoughts filled with a new project to embark on.

Draco was grabbing a piece of paper that fell from the cloudless sky. He looked at it in dawning understanding before handing it to Hermione.

Customer Receipt: Issued by H. Potter, executed by G. Weasley. & B. Zabini.

"You know what this means, don't you?" he drawled with contempt.

Hermione felt a smirk pulling at her lips.

"Our treacherous friends. But we can't possibly let Ginny, Blaise and most of all Harry, get away with this," she insisted with a look of feigned innocence.

Draco nodded.

"That's correct."

"I say we torture them," Hermione offered nicely.

Oh you are the one for me, Granger.

Hermione looked up in surprise at the ceiling.

"And it appears the first one to enter is the last one to see," Hermione smiled, stretching her hand out for his.

He took it with a slick grin.

"I couldn't agree more, Granger."