Disclaimer: I only own AU and OCs, the rest are JKR's babies. My niece had introduced me to Dramione, I still can't stop thanking her. I kept this fic a secret, never told her I wrote one. Well, this was actually the very first Dramione I ever wrote in my life, I thought I had lost it, but they say, old emails never die! Please consider this as a fiction, I don't sympathize with any of the ways men or women stoop low to dishonor any living being.

Exposed

Instead of keeping him manacled inside his damp cell, instead of getting the Dementors, they were dragging him through several corridors. He had asked once, but only received a punch on his bruised back. The Guard had added," Daddy died last night, and Mum still rots in Mungo's. Darling, it's your time to face the fire." There were others who had chuckled. But Draco Lucius Malfoy grew quiet. He thanked, Merlin, finally, I can die!

Instead of the usual cage, they made him sit on the chair, though they left his handcuffs on him. He could feel several eyes scrutinizing him, but he preferred staring at the floor tiles instead. How fitting! They replicated a blood chess board below their feet. He started counting the black ones first and then counted back the white ones. As far as he could see, without turning his head, without lifting his downcast eyes, there were 15 blacks and 17 whites. He had skipped past the ones on which someone was standing.

Someone called his name; someone declared the court to be on the session and he waited. It will be over soon. He went back to his counting...1,2,3,4,5...10…

" I would like to defend the offender, Draco Lucius Malfoy"

"Miss Hermione Granger!"

He still couldn't remember her speech, he still failed to wrap his mind around the fact that he was free to walk, free of charges. But the most bizarre thing of all, he was a married man. Yes, married on pen and paper. Married because that has the only way his new wife could make sure; his wand was not taken away from him and broken into pieces to punish him for his countless crimes. He kept looking at his feet. She had got him new clothes and new shoes. Muggle but still they fitted just fine, Potter had got him a robe. In not so friendly terms, the accomplished Auror had muttered right on his face, "Hurt her, Malfoy and I will kick you back into the lap of Dementors." He nodded and tried to explain Scarhead, that they were making a mistake. That is where he belonged, this is blasphemy, they have got it all wrong. But she was back with several parchments, shoving a pen into his dirty hands, she ordered crisply, "Sign!"

Within an hour, Draco Malfoy had found himself escorted out of the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic, right outside, below the evening sky and the setting sun. And in front of a sea of reporters and flashbulbs. Hermione Malfoy had squeezed his arm, whispering, "Smile back, Malfoy, you are once again a celebrity!" Waving at the crowd, she had walked to the nearest alley, the Aurors actually guarded them throughout the short walk.

Once inside, she hugged him tight and apparated away. They reappeared on a secluded backyard. She simply said, "We are home." He allowed her to drag him up the small flight of stairs, allowed her to close the door shut, reinstall the protective wards, and face him. When the honeydew eyes made the brewing stormy grey ones, he yelled.

"WHY! I was supposed to die! I am a criminal, you know that, Why! Or you wish to draw your revenge all by yourself, Huh! Granger, go take you good shot!" coughing and doubling on his knees he had watched her standing in front of him like a statue. With his hoarse voice, he tried again, "What witch, like what you see! Of course, you do, so go ahead say it, spell that curse, torture me, make me pay for my sins."

"I will not do that to my husband. We just got married."

"Husband! Oh really, you married a pauper, you married a disgrace to magical folk, and you are bothered about principles!"

"Are you done, because I am, I am not someone you can bait, so why don't we actually eat something and then go to sleep."

Walking into the tiny kitchen, she busied herself in bringing out the plates and the some already cooked meal from the icebox. Fumbling for words, Draco had trudged behind her. Drawing a seat for him, she had motioned him to take his seat. Well, the food looked tasty and the aroma had made his stomach grumble. He thought, better to have my last meal and then die at her hands.

Throughout the quiet meal both the occupants of the dinner table kept looking at each other. He had sniffed the food, trying hard to keep up with his image, but soon his hunger had overpowered all that nonsense. He had dug in the meat, vegetables and had actually enjoyed the truffle cake, she had quietly pushed towards him at the end of the meal. He wasn't so baffled at the lack of house-elves in this small kitchen. He was actually surprised to see the simple decor. Like her, this small flat was simple, practical, cluster free. If she noticed him stealing glances at her or at her house, she said nothing. She watched him eat with vigour and felt happy. She watched him watch her. But Mrs. Hermione Malfoy had already made up her mind. She would help Draco Malfoy find his footing in this new world.

"Here drink some…", pouring his a glass of muggle wine, she started gathering the dishes and washed them, in front of him, cleaned the table, pulled down the blinds...Draco realized the meaning of hunger and the luxury of feeling burning liquid glide down his throat in this sudden setup. Watching her doing things the muggle way had come along with a strange sense of contentment. But the moment she turned at him, his fear for this whole marriage began coming back to him in full force. Trying to fend it off he growled at her, his body growing taut like a bow," What, what do you want now? What?"

She walked away without saying a word and came back with a brown paper warped parcel, pushing it towards him, she stated, "They are some clothes Blaise thought you would like to wear."

"Blaise, you have spoken to Blaise? He knows! He knows I am free…"

"And that you are married to me."

In disgust, he had hurled the parcel in her direction, then, grabbed her arms. Giving her a thorough shake he yelled," What is wrong with you Granger? What are you doing, why are you doing this? I am a criminal, I am an unpardonable criminal, I am a…", dropping his tone, he spoke the rest in utter shame, tears running down his hollow cheek, "I am a rapist. I raped you. Granger! Wake up, wake up from this bloody rosy dream, and kill me, please, you are the brightest witch of this age. Merlin's pants! You are the brightest witch ever born, you are meant to do wonderful things, why, why are you tying yourself with a bastard like me! Why?"

Even though her dizziness, she had politely corrected him, "It is Malfoy now. We got married today."

He screamed back, "What kind of illness is this? You are balmy, you have lost it, Granger, I raped you. I violated you. I...Why are you insisting...what...what are you...where are you taking me…"

"To the bedroom."

She pulled him into the sparsely lit bedroom and closed the door with nonverbal spells. Turning back at him, she had once pointed the wand at her and then at him. He heard the soft murmur of the vanishing spell and gaped at her. He gulped down his fear, closed his eyes shut, turning around, without even bothering to cover himself he shuddered in fright. "Please, please, I don't, I cannot, you need to understand, I never meant...I never... never meant to say a single thing to you…" Falling face forward, he had curled into a small ball, digging his face in the fury rug below, he cried in earnest, "You don't understand, it is a curse, a curse to be a Malfoy. You bested me, you were damn good at bloody everything, I watched you, I watched you Granger...but you never cheated, never copied, never came to class unprepared, you were at it like that was the only thing you had to win in life. And I went back every year, and Father tortured me again and again for getting bested by a muggleborn witch, I knew the others were discreetly asked to watch me...so I…please, please kill me."

Rather than watching her, he felt her lay down beside him, felt her soft fingers run through his matted hair, felt her lips over his shoulder blade, he wept on. "Please don't. I am not the person to show mercy, please Hermione."

He heard her rattled voice and felt his back getting moist. Baffled and worried, he turned. Instinctively, he took her face in his hands and urged her, "Don't. Please you won the bloody war. I lost it. You came out shining, you are meant to shine brighter, Granger, please, don't waste your tears on me, I still beg you to kill me."

Struggling not to sniffle too much, she inched closer until she was just a breath away from his face. Whispering as if she was telling him a hidden secret, she said, "You are not the culprit, you are the victim, you were under the influence of the imperious curse, Draco, you were tortured in the same way as I was. I know." When he tried to move away shaking his head in disgust, she pressed on, "I saw it in your eyes. You think you can hide your feelings from the world, you can act like a brat and a snob but your eyes tell yet another tale..."

"Stop! Please, I...You were a virgin! I saw your blood...on…"

"So were you. Who would have believed that the Slytherin prince actually never slept around, like those rumors were actually foul rumours." She chuckled drily.

In this dim-lit room, on this soft rug, she still had the capacity to enamor him. He closed his eyes in shame. And lowered his chin until it rested over his scarred chest. Two soft fingers nudged it up again. He didn't know what to say, so he kept on staring at her. She watched his wet eyes, his hollow cheek, his dark circles, his haunted expression. At length she spoke, brushing her fingers over his face. "She is dead, I mean Bellatrix is dead, Molly killed her. We are free Draco. She is never coming back. Stop living in the past. I was there so long. It just stops you from moving forward. Take my hand please, step out of that hell, you are only the captive of your mind. Please."

"Hermione, please, I don't deserve it."

"But I do...I mean…"

He watched her lower her eyes, actually watched it roam over his exposed skin. He spat, "You know I am ugly both inside and out."

"I am not bothered about these scars.." She started feeling those ridges over his chest, the ones that healed after nearly killing him on the bathroom floor. He tore her fingers away from them and trapped them within his palm. He hissed, "Don't."

"I am not going crazy here Draco. You think I could have married Ron; I could have married anyone. But I could not."

Concerned and apprehensive thinking the worst he blurted out, "Did she do something else; did she bind us? tell me! tell me! did she…"

"No. She has nothing to do with all of this. Tell me, did you ever of think of Pansy or Astoria after we fled the Manor?"

Baffled, he answered, "No! Why?"

"Did you think of me?"

Once again, he lowered his chin, "Yes, you were everywhere, in my thoughts, in my dreams and nightmare. I am sorry, trust me, even my apologies fall short…"

"Do you wish to lead a life of shame and disgust, or do you wish to take this second chance that your Fate has given you…"

"What are you on about…"

"You know, I have been carrying the weight of the world for all these years, and then that day in the Manor, when you were...suddenly...this whole thing turned strange. Like I was floating...I thought I should feel repulsed, I thought I should actually beg for death, but I heard your thoughts in my mind, I heard you begging for forgiveness, I heard you thinking hard to find a way to obliviate me, I actually looked into your soul. I know people will never understand this. It is still repulsive and vile but I could never hold it against you. I remember counting each drop of your tears. Yes, I bested you, but you pushed me equally hard at everything. And no one will understand you as I do. The world felt cold after that day. It felt rotten and dead. But then, when Harry managed to save you, I felt alive, I felt delighted to watch you throw the wand at Harry, I watched you actually smile after months when HE died!"

Snuggling into his arms, she said, "I missed this warmth."

"What are you, an angel? How can you think like this of me…?"

"Please, just can you try to forget our dark past, and actually try to look at us, baring our thoughts, heart, and soul, here? We know what death is Malfoy, can we not try to relearn the ways to live?"

"I don't know anything about living…"

Inching her face closer, just a hair away from his lips, she whispered," Can you start with kissing me?"

This was hope staring at him, this was light tearing a hole through his dark existence, this was calm, and the promise. He thought he should walk away; he should actually try not to breathe at all. Because, as long as he was under his father's imperio curse, he had not done just that. Kiss her.

Still, he implored, "Why, can't you just stop and kill me instead? You will be free from everything, I assure you."

"Draco…" she had brushed her lips against his chapped ones. It was short and lasted only for a few seconds. But it was not the kiss that had stolen his words away. It was her smiling face. He ventured, "Why are you smiling?"

"Because it feels good."

"You are mental, are you on some funny potions…"

"Stop, don't try to spoil this…"

"Ah! This, really you will just coax me into sleeping with you, and then once you have your fill, you will kill. It is a good thought, I must say, very Slytherin of you…"

She slapped his face hard, "Tell me, that you don't feel it as well?"

He tried to lie," Feel what, I prefer dying...to getting manhandled…"

She had rolled him on his back and had saddled him, stretching herself over his taut muscles, she had kissed him forcefully. No, he couldn't lie anymore. Couldn't deny the fact, that even back then, a bit of himself that had kept on battling against his father's curse, actually recalled the feel of her clenching muscles around him, actually recalled her smell, her underlying desire, her roaring waves that thrashed against his responding grunts. They might have been victims of twisted minds, but they had a moment to call their own. That moment, when they had surrendered to the call of magic, that moment when their magical core had fused together. The climax was not so exhilarating like the feeling of getting mingled into one another, he had felt her inside out and he had experienced her wonderment at learning how he was under all those masks of Pureblood snobbery.

When she had felt him respond back, she had eased away, resting her head over his chin, she had breathed the words over his Adam's apple, "Do you remember now?"

Closing his eyes, he had allowed those tears of joy to fall off. He had rolled them over, and staring back at her eyes, he whispered the first promise, "Tell me, when to stop, and I will stop breathing for you…"

Circling her arms around his neck, pulling his closer, making him hiss when his bare chest brush against her bare and ready skin, she replied huskily, "Never stop breathing for me, Never." Flexing his muscles, he had sat up, cradling her over his lap, he had pushed her down, hiding him between and within her softness, he had prayed to her tempest core and to her racing heart, "Teach me, teach me how to forget the past, teach me how to live again."