A/N. This story has mature content, with explicit sexual acts and references to forced sex and BDSM. Please be warned.

For months now Draco Malfoy was a prisoner in his own home. The Dark Lord had taken Malfoy Manor as his headquarters and gave Draco the dark mark. He called it 'an honor' but it really was just a punishment for Lucius' failures. The dark mark was a tracking device, making Draco a puppet, a hostage in his own house. He was lucky to not be trusted enough to make him perform heinous acts, but still, he was expected to hurt and torture other human beings. In his desperation and loneliness, he found some relief in his sexual fantasies. He was a young man, full of hormones that got ignited by the roughness and viciousness around him, but he was not a psychopath. He found no relief in committing acts of violence. His masculine instincts would charge him with testosterone when he had to impose his authority over dirty snatchers, but then there was no relief for him. Hurting the bastards gave him no pleasure. So he would go to his private quarters and tried to provide himself with some release. He had stolen some of his mother's erotica and read it every night, then pleasured himself to images of BDSM. In his mind, he was turning into an animal.

His father noticed the change in him and tried to provide some assistance by bringing around a couple of women. Death Eater fans, not as insane as Bellatrix but definitely crazy whores. Draco felt disgusted. The women tried to seduce him, but he sent them away. One of them mocked him, insulting his masculinity. He crucio her. When the woman was convulsing on the floor like a fish out of water the other one laughed excitedly. He gave that one a taste of the curse too and got rid of both.

When he finally found himself alone again he lied on his bed and let his imagination take him where he wanted to be. Or better, to whom he wanted to be with. He pictured her in his rooms, naked and vulnerable, presented to him for his pleasure. He pictured her lying on his bed in a body binding spell, exposed and afraid. He would lie next to her and tell her to not be scared. He would run his fingers through her curls and whisper in her ear that he would protect her if she was his. He would breathe in her intoxicating scent and tenderly kiss her face and tell her how beautiful she is. How he has longed for this moment since he was fourteen years old and saw her walking down the stairs in that beautiful blue dress she wore for the Yule Ball. He would then modify the spell to hold her only by her wrists and ankles so he could feel all her body's reactions. He would slowly reach for her mouth to brush it with his lips and she would part hers to allow him entrance. He would kiss her passionately before trailing kisses down her chin, her neck, all the way to her supple chest. He would inhale her scent once more and let his face be caressed by her beautiful breasts. He would lick and suck and nib and she would arch her back and moan beautifully and her sinuous movements against the restrains paired with her scent and sounds would make him ravenous. He would slither down her body to find her core and devour her, make her desperately fight her bindings to angle herself against his mouth so she can feel more, have more. He would latch onto her hard, sucking every last drop of her delicious libations, and she would reward him with waves of orgasmic heat on his face. That image makes his cock pulse in his hand and he comes hard, desperately. When he opens his eyes he feels a bit better, but a string of loneliness is always there. And then he tries to ignore the annoying voice in his head that tries to tell him that this is a war, and she may already be dead.

One day he is summoned to the drawing room. There, right in front of him, is his dream. Only this is a nightmare. She was captured and is being tortured by Bellatrix. Her screams are horrible. Then, in a blur, Potter, Weasley, and Dobby move around, disarm some, attack some, Potter goes for his wand and he let him take it. They are about to take her with them and she will be safe. And then it happens. Bellatrix throws her knife and hits Dobby right in the chest. The elf does the last thing he can before dying. He grabs onto the two closest ones, Potter and Weasley, and disapparates with them. Hermione is left behind.

Draco's heart pounds in his chest. He is desperate. He has to save her. Bellatrix is furious, attacking snatchers and turns to kill Hermione.

"Stop!" He yells, desperate. He tries to think quickly. "She may know something, and I can get it from her," he stands tall, faking confidence that he doesn't have. "I hate her the most. I have the right to be the one using her."

His insane aunt cackles and approaches him, running her nails over his chest in her disturbing style of seduction

"Well, well, well. The young wolf is hungry. Fine. She's yours. For now; use her, enjoy her, torture her. And make sure to get some information out of her. We will finish her later. And don't forget, you have priorities," the cruel witch said standing next to her sister, reminding him of the harm that would come to his mother if he fails.

Without another word, he takes his mother's wand and uses an incarcerous spell to bind Hermione with ropes and levitates her to his room. Once there, he left her down softly on the floor and released the binding ropes.

"You cannot escape. The manor is protected by blood wards. Only those of Malfoy blood can cross. Everyone else needs magical permission or to be side-apparated. After what Dobby did the elves will be put on restrains so they cannot help. I can't grant you permission, it would show in my wand that I did and they would torture and kill my mother and me. I'm sorry. I have to keep you here."

Then he kneeled next to her. His voice is soft, almost soothing, she has never heard this tone on him before.

"I'm not going to hurt you unless you try me." He kneeled next to her and run his fingers through her hair. "Just do not try me, Hermione. Please. In here, I can keep you safe. If you try to hurt me or escape they will come and get you and you would be tortured and killed. Please, Hermione, stay here with me. Surrender to me. Please."

She's stunned. Because he says he won't hurt her, yes. But mostly, because her given name falling from his mouth sounds strange, foreign. Because of the way he said it, without anger or hate or loath. Because he said it softly, almost like a prayer. Comprehension dawn on her. For once in her life, for the first time in their relationship, her ticket to survival is not to fight him, but to surrender to him. She closed her eyes and remembered where they are. They are at the manor, his manor. This is not Hogwarts, and here they are not school children. They are two young adults on opposite sides of a war. And she is his prisoner. And he has offered protection in exchange for surrender. She closes her eyes, tears rolling down her cheeks. She says in a whisper

"Yes."

He nods and gives her a shy smile. She doesn't have it in her to pay in kind. He offers his hand and she takes it. He walks her to a small breakfast nook where some food is being set for them. Elf magic, she thinks. But she is starving, she's been starving for months. He pours her tea and gestures for her to eat. She eats ravenously, frenziedly. It breaks his heart to see her like this. He withholds the tears that prick his eyes when he sees her so desperate. When she's had some food in her stomach she slows down and by the end of the meal, she looks more like herself. When she's got enough she looks at him

"Thank you"

He responds with the shy smile again. He stands up and offers his hand once more.

"You need a bath. It is ready."

She blushes crimson. He caresses the back of her hand with his thumb.

"I'm sorry. I can't leave you off my sight."

She nods in understanding. He walks her to the bathroom where a magnificent tub big enough for five people is already filled with a warm bubble bath. He says

"Get in." Then he turns around to give her a semblance of privacy.

She takes her clothes off, grateful for that little bit of respect that he is showing. She gets in the warm water that feels like a blessing and sits in the middle of the huge tub, hugging her knees. Her body is hidden by the bubbles.

"I'm in"

He turns around and she is a vision. His hormones kick in and he plays on the power that he has over her.

"Close your eyes"

She feels scared by that command but obeys, lowering her face. He takes off his clothes and she feels him get in the water behind her. She feels both anxious and aroused. When she agreed to surrender she knew something like this could happen. And to feel that she is under his control is strangely exciting. She fears harm, but she does not fear his lust. She's starting to crave it. She opens her eyes and slowly turns her head to look at him. He gives her the small smile again, but his eyes are full of lust. She nods her head, indicating her willingness to submit. He conjures a sponge and uses it to pour water on her hair, so she let her head fall back to allow it, eyes closed again. It's a wonderful feeling.

"I have always loved your hair," then he chuckles "granted, it was quite the crazy mane when you just arrived at Hogwarts, but then you grew out of it, and it became this beautiful cascade of curls that I adored from afar," he said while he lathered shampoo on her hair slowly, almost reverently.

She felt tears gather in her eyes again. A few sobs escape.

"Why are you doing this? You hate me."

He shrugged

"I don't hate you. I never really did. And now, we are at war. We may die today or tomorrow. This war means nothing to me. I have nothing to win and everything to lose. If I'm going to die after a lifetime of being a selfish bastard, then I will die after allowing myself the pleasure of having what I have really wanted all these years," he puts a finger on her chin softly to make her turn to look at him "what I wanted was to be a happy kid, to be with whomever I wanted, not who my parents told me to. If I could have chosen who I wanted to be my companion, then I would have chosen you."

She looks into his eyes and they are sincere. And beautiful. And right now, in this bubble bath, in this little refuge from all the madness, she wants to believe him. She parts her lips and he covers them with his mouth. They kiss slowly for a minute before she turns around to straddle him. He is surprised and nervous, but above all, he is aroused like never before in his life. His hands are shaking and he wishes they weren't but she doesn't seem to mind. She wraps her legs around him and takes the sponge and soaks his hair. Is the most sensual ritual either of them can imagine. She watches mesmerized as his wet platinum blonde hair falls over his gorgeous face, and he looks like an angel. He opens his eyes and the most beautiful witch in the world is right here, on top of him, caressing him. They kiss. They kiss for a long time, is their first time kissing and yet they are wet and naked, but these are crazy times. Times were life can be over any minute. Times were convention and propriety mean nothing. Times were finding refuge in each other means everything. She allows herself to explore him, her hands under the warm water finding his hard manhood. He hisses and tries to stop her. He won't last. She pleads.

"Let me do this. Please. I…have not done it before. I want to know how it feels."

He nods and looks at her in amazement. She is a virgin. He is too, save for a couple of hasty hand jobs in broom closets back at Hogwarts. But never in his wildest dreams, he considered that she would be his first. He buries his head in the crook of her neck and loses himself in the amazing sensation of her soft hand stroking him.

"Hermione. You are the most perfect witch that I have ever met. You are everything I really want."

She lifts his face to searches his eyes, looking for the truth, all while still stroking him. She wants it to be the truth. She has never felt desire like this. He is cupping her breast with one hand and holding the back of her hair with the other and they look at each other while she keeps stroking him and soon he gasps and she can feel him get even stiffer, and she feels the pulsing strength of his orgasm in her hand, his head hanging back for a second before he pulls her closer and buries his face in her wet hair, calling her name while his whole body shakes and he spills in her hand. He lays back against the side of the tub and pulls her with him so she is lying on top of him, her face in the crook of his neck. He runs his fingers over her naked back and says

"This is the most magical thing that has ever happened to me."

She smiles. Now she is aroused and ready. She allows him a few minutes, then lifts her head to look him in the eye.

"Take me to your bed."

He smiles. He stands up, gets out of the tub, brings two of his plush bathrobes and offers one to her. It is way too big. They laugh and he shrinks it with a spell. She looks perfect now. He takes her hand and they walk to the bed.

She climbs and lies down, her hair a cascade on the pillow; he lies next to her, his head perched on his hand, his other hand tracing her face, her lips, her neck, then making its way to untie the robe. She allows it and pulls the tie of his robe. They discard both and take a moment to appreciate each others' naked bodies. Both of them are mesmerized, aroused and nervous. She pulls him down for a kiss and slithers herself under him. He doesn't stop kissing her while he explores slowly with his hand until he reaches her core. She is very, very wet. She spreads her legs and he rests his awakening rod on top of her slit, letting her feel it, an introduction of sorts before the main event. The momentous event. For both of them. She can feel how big it is, she can feel it hard and pulsing. Is intimidating and arousing. Against any ideas she ever had, she is going to let Draco Malfoy take her virginity. And she is going to take his. And she can't wait anymore.

"Draco, please. Do it. Make me yours."

He pushes himself up with one arm and with his other hand guides his cock to her entrance. He's breathing heavily, fighting the instinct to just push himself inside, knowing that this will hurt her. He looks at her and she nods, encouraging him. he pushes a little bit, and she moans with pleasure. He pushes a bit more and her breath shakes but she nods encouragingly again. He pushes again and then again and he is all in. This is the most amazing feeling he has ever had. Is hot, and tight, and wet, and he can feel once again that he won't last long. He stays still, waiting for her to adjust and lead. She takes a minute to accommodate him and then she feels relaxed and incredibly aroused. The fact that this is Draco Malfoy, her archenemy strangely turned protector makes the moment mind-blowing. Despite her lack of experience, the mere intensity of her emotions, the mix of arousal, fear and adrenaline and the fact that she allowed Draco, of all men, to possess her, even though he is her jailer, brings her to the brink of orgasm. She only needs to rock her hips a few times and soon she is falling on the deep end and taking him with her. His release pulses inside of her and he lowers himself down on top of her. She holds him tight. They stay there, connected, fused, for a few minutes.

He slides next to her, performs a contraceptive charm, pulls her close and they both fall asleep for a bit, laced on each other.

After a cat nap, Draco wakes up first and looks at the witch in his arms. He smiles and runs his fingers through her curls. He blocks the thoughts that creep into his mind. He blocks the thoughts of the monsters lurking outside the door and the fact that they could take her from him. He comes back to the moment because it is all they have. She opens her eyes when she feels his caress. She smiles.

"Hello, beautiful. Would you like some water?"

"Yes please."

He sits up to conjure two glasses and a pitcher of fresh water. He offers one to her. She says thanks and sits to drink it. He leaves the pitcher on the nightstand. She looks over to the nightstand. There is a pile of books there. A couple she doesn't recognize, wizarding authors most likely. Others she has seen. Tropic of Cancer, Justine, Delta of Venus. Boudoir literature for sure. She smiles

"I see you have been studying" she mocks sweetly, pointing at the books.

"And how do you know what those books are?" he counters in a sensual challenge.

"I'm a bookworm, remember? And I have oh so many interests," she said running her fingers down his chest, his abdomen until she reaches his already hardened cock. He hisses in pleasure and she whispers in his ear

"Show me what you have learned," she says, putting down her glass of water, then taking his and putting it away too.

He opens his eyes, darkened with lust, only a silver ring around his wide dark pupils.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I know exactly what is in those books. Show me what you want."

"Incarcerous"

And she is now tied with ropes from her wrists and ankles, just like in his dreams. She gasps, feeling an intoxicating mix of fear and arousal. She is completely naked and tied up in the bed of the boy that she has been fighting with for seven years. And yet she desperately wants him to own her, to have his way with her. He climbs on top of her, looming over like a wolf ready to eat his wounded prey. Her harsh breathing raising on her chest, the way it moves her breasts up and down makes him ravenous. He speaks in a low growl

"You are mine, Hermione Granger"

She has to concentrate on breathing and manages to answer

"Yes"

He kisses her deeply, hungrily, aggressively. She responds in kind, fighting the restrains to try to hold on to him. It's frustrating and infuriating and delicious. This time, when he goes down on her is different than the dream; she is so delicious and aroused and tempting that he cannot take it. He makes sure she is soaked and climbs back up and fucks her hard, kissing and licking and nibbling and sometimes biting, pounding like a madman and she loves it. She says his name, she yells it, she moans it, she begs for more. She arches her back and let her head roll back and he can feel her walls clenching and squeezing his cock and he falls down the rabbit hole. He has half a mind to untie her before collapsing on top of her. She wraps him tight with her arms and legs, breathing his name over and over again like a mantra. Is the most beautiful call he has ever heard.

The days go by like this. They make love, they read, they fuck, he ties her up and has her way with her many times and she begs for more. They whisper secrets, they dare to dream, they withhold talking about fear and death and despair. Talking would not change it. So for now, they live in a dream.

On the fourth night, at midnight, the only person allowed to enter his private rooms anytime comes by. His mother enters the room quietly and stops short at the sight of her sleeping boy holding a sleeping girl in his arms. They are wearing matching pajamas. He is holding her close, tight. Narcissa realizes that he has feelings for her. His grip is protective, desperate and the girl clings on to him like the life raft he is. Narcissa feels her heart cringe. If the world were to change in a moment, if her son could just stay here in this place, at this moment, he would be happy. She holds back tears for her son, for the life that he could have had and she and her husband robbed him of it. Nothing she can do now. So she casts a spell to make sure the girl stays asleep and softly awakens her son.

"You are summoned, my Dragon," she says, her voice cracking.

He opens his eyes, blinks and feels the fear filling him up to his core. He looks at Hermione's sleeping figure, so beautiful, so peaceful. His mother holds his hand and urges him to come with her. He changes out of his pajamas and follows her in silence, cursing his life and holding back tears of his own.

They make it to the macabre meeting, like so many others he has had to sit through. When he is interrogated about the girl, he says what he can. That she and Potter had been roaming aimlessly through the countryside. That Potter is looking for something but she doesn't know what it is, she's just the bodyguard. He knows that she might have lied to him when she said that but he doesn't care. She has said that Potter is an Occlumens and Snape confirms this. He is asked about his plans for the girl and he says that he is making her pay for all the times she tried to humiliate him in school. That she is getting what she deserves. The creeps laugh, make disgusting remarks, suggest ways for him to abuse her. He nods like he is taking mental notes and keeps a straight face against nausea that creeps to his throat. Then he is finally allowed to go back to his rooms. Behind him, the perverts talk loudly about having a go at the little whore when Draco has had his fill of her. It takes all of his strength to not kill them. Only his mother's hands in his remind him that that is not an option. At least not for now.

When he walks back into his room Hermione is peacefully asleep. He looks at her, she is strong, brave, gorgeous. And he is falling in love with her. He needs to save her. He has to save her. But also, he doesn't want to die. He is not a Gryffindor; he doesn't have the courage to sacrifice it all. He doesn't want to face torture and death. He wants to live. He wants his mother to live. He already cannot have what he really wants: a life with Hermione. But maybe he can help her escape and still survive. There is one way. He is not sure it will work but is worth a try. She will hate him for it. But if it works it will keep both of them alive. She can decide what to do about it when she finds out what he has done.

He approaches her sleeping figure on the bed and performs a charm. It's an old spell that purebloods have used for centuries because of their obsession with keeping bloodlines alive. He is in luck. They are in luck. This is the right time. He climbs in bed naked next to her. He pulls her close and she wakes up a little and smiles. He kisses her, caresses her, and they make soft, sensual love. He puts all of his adoration and devotion at this moment, knowing that is the one that may lose her to him. He doesn't want to lose her, but this is a war, and right now he chooses for her to be alive and hating him over her dying. When they finish making love he pulls his wand and she thinks he is going to perform the usual spell they do after sex. Instead, he says

"Confundus".

She looks at him with a silly smile, then curls against him and falls asleep again. He holds her tight, small sobs shaking his chest. He loves her. He curses this world where he has to betray her to save her.

Two days later the snatchers burst into his private chambers when they were having breakfast.

"Madam Lestrange wants to see the little whore."

Hermione feels a huge wave of fear take over her. If Draco tries to protect her they may kill him or worst. All she wants now is for him to be safe. She is doomed anyway. Before she can present herself willingly Draco grabs her by the hair roughly and whispers in her ear

"Just apparate anywhere you want." Then he throws her on the ground and walks away saying

"I'm done with the bitch. She's all yours." And with that, he walks away, his back to her.

Hermione watches him go, horrified, her heart breaking into a million pieces. When the snatchers grab and manhandle her like a rag doll she closes her eyes and envisions the Burrow, wishing that she could be there, sitting in that cozy kitchen with Molly, the closest thing she had to a mother. Then the rough noises and handling stopped and she opened her eyes. She was standing in the kitchen of the Burrow.

Draco was with his mother when the snatchers screamed that she had escaped. He smiles but quickly composes his face to indifference. Bellatrix rips the wand from his hand and finds nothing. The last spells he had produced were the cruciatus used on the women her father had brought the past week and several incarcerous, that she takes as a sign that he had forced Hermione repeatedly. Nothing that incriminates him in her escape. In the end, the snatchers that were manhandling her are blamed and good riddance to them.

The next few days, at the Burrow, Hermione cries every day. She doesn't know what Draco did to save her and she fears the worst. That he changed the wards and that is how she was able to apparate. That means he's dead. They would check his wand and the spell will show and he would be tortured and killed. All she can hope is that Bellatrix just Avada him and didn't make him suffer. She feels sick. Every day she loses her breakfast. After a week of this, Molly asks for permission to perform a house charm. She allows it.

"Hermione, sweetheart, you are pregnant," she takes a seat next to her and asks hesitantly "Did he forced you?"

Hermione shakes her head no, eyes full of tears. She looks Molly straight in the eye.

"He took care of me, protected me. We both chose to do it," she then lowers her gaze "and I am in love with him."

Molly is not happy to hear that, but she can do nothing. This is a war, and the best-laid plans go to shit. Hermione may not become her daughter in law as she dreamed of, but she was still one of her kids. And for now, there was also a baby on the way to care for.

After the battle of Hogwarts, when the dark side was defeated came the trials. She was relieved that the Malfoys survived, but she was not allowed contact with the prisoners, they were isolated until their respective trials. When Draco's turn came, he was sitting in front of the Wizengamot. The first to testify in his defense was Harry Potter, who told about him letting them slides through the cracks multiple times, and how he had not had the heart to kill Dumbledore. Then the court called Hermione Granger to testify. Draco felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest. He was facing time in Azkaban, but it would be worth it if he can see her one more time, and he would be fine if there is the slightest chance she doesn't hate him. when she walked in, he couldn't help a sob. She was wearing a dress that showed her little bump. She had kept the baby. Tears rolled down his face. When she looked at him, her face was soft. She looked nervous but not angry. She pleaded for him. She told the story of her captivity and how he protected her and cared for her. She gave a vague reference to him giving her a way to escape through the wards. She didn't explain how but by now the rumor mill had put two and two together. Hermione Granger walked out of Malfoy Manor pregnant. She walked out because she had Malfoy blood in her. The jury was not inclined to send to prison a boy forced to act against his will, so he was sentenced to probation. When the jury asked for a volunteer guardian for Mr. Draco Malfoy, Hermione stood up. The chief warlock asked if she understood that meant he would be living with her. She smiled and said yes. Draco's hands were shaken, tears rolling down his face. He was not only not going to prison. He was going to live under the same roof with the witch of his dreams, the mother of her child. The chief warlock pronounced the sentence.

"Mr. Draco Malfoy, you are sentenced to one-year probation. You will wear a trace similar to the one you had as an underage wizard. Your wand will be restricted so it can only perform limited spells. And you will be under the guardianship of Miss Hermione Granger. Your vaults are hereby confiscated and put under the signature of Miss Granger, who would have access to them to cover your expenses and hers. The court is adjourned."

When the courtroom emptied they were the last two left. She walked down towards him but he ran and picked her up in his arms. She laughed at this and he pulled her in for a deep kiss, that she received enthusiastically.

"We're having a baby," she said, smiling at him.

"And you don't hate me for it?" he asked, hesitant.

She shook her head no

"I was terrified when I apparated away because I thought that you had changed the wards and they were going to kill you for it. But then I had morning sickness and Molly Weasley performed the spell and told me I was pregnant. It dawns on me that you were alive, and I felt so very happy about it."

"Even though I took the coward way out and got you pregnant instead of, you know…"

"Getting tortured and die? Trust me Malfoy, had it been the other way around I would absolutely knock you up too."

He laughed. He laughed wholeheartedly. He was so, so happy right now. He would have time to ponder his parents' situation later. Lucius was going to Azkaban and Narcissa got house arrest. But that was after all, on them. They were the adults when he was a child. And now he was a young adult with a family of his own on the way. And the war was over, and he was just happy.

"How can I ever repay you, my beautiful witch?"

She smirked.

"You know how you will have limited wand powers for a year?"

He nodded.

"Well, household spells are included. I will ask Molly for some good books on housekeeping, and you better hop to it, because I need to find a job."

"If you have access to my vaults you don't need a job. We're rich."

She frowned.

"Not gonna happen Malfoy. So get used to it. We'll use the money but I'm getting a job and you can do some home study if you want to prepare for an apprenticeship next year. And do not even think about getting a house elf. Not. Going. To. Happen."

He sighs, smiled and gave her a peck on the lips.

"I guess this is my punishment to bear. And I will do it gladly. But we need to find a place big enough. We need space for a nursery, a library, and a potions lab."

She was about to retort but then thought better about it. It sounded just perfect.