AN: I suppose this requires a little bit of explanation. The story subscribes to the theory that Hermione was administrating love potions to Harry throughout HBP in order to "tweak" things and have him notice Ginny. Needless to say no one was happy to discover this, and Hermione has been on her own for the last couple/few months.

This is my first fan fic, and now I appreciate anyone who's ever tried to write anything like this, because it's the most bloody difficult thing I've ever done. But without further ado ...

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"What the hell are you doing here?"

"I would ask you the same thing," Hermione Granger said, her eyes wary and her wand clenched close at her side, "But I'm actually leaving, so I won't bother. But I would probably guess—"

"Why else would you be sneaking around here?" Draco Malfoy smirked, casually gesturing at the misty forest around them. "Actually, the only thing that I'm surprised about is that your two little pals aren't tagging along."

Hermione compressed her lips but said nothing as the familiar sensation of hurt stabbed its way through her chest. Trying to ignore the cruel glint in Malfoy's eyes, she slowly circled around him towards the path that led out.

Malfoy feigned remembrance, a slow smile coming to his face. "But I forgot, you three aren't on the best of terms, are you?"

"That's none of your business," Hermione bit out, unable to come up with anything better. She had almost completely circled around Malfoy by now, still expecting him to draw his wand at any second. But he made no move to validate her fears.

"But isn't it everyone's business?" Malfoy sneered at her as he sauntered a few paces, nonchalantly planting himself between her and the way out again. "I mean, the Golden Boy has to save the world, and he can hardly do that without his favorite little Mudblood."

Hermione barely noticed the derogative aimed at her, but she came up short as Malfoy cut her off again.

"Let me go."

"I can't do that," Malfoy gave his best impression of a helpless shrug, but the attempted gesture failed miserably, "I'm the bad guy, remember? And I'm not quite sure what you are anymore, but I'm willing to bet that I'm not supposed to let you go."

"Then try it," Hermione snarled. Stepping forward, she found her wand suspended just above Malfoy's nose before she realized what she was doing, "Have they made you a Death Eater yet?"

The momentary flash of surprise at her advance had already vanished from his face, and now he was regarding her calmly.

"Drop it," he said slowly enough that she knew he wasn't as calm as he wanted her to think, "Stop trying to play the bad girl. You're no good at it."

"I'm not trying to play anything," she growled, but lowered her wand and took a step back in appeasement, more for herself than for Malfoy.

"Oh, that is grand!" Malfoy laughed perhaps a little too loud, and she listened uneasily as it echoed eerily through the trees. "You couldn't lie to save your life, Granger. Except maybe to yourself, that is. Surely the magnificent muggle wonder, friend to the great and almighty Harry Potter, and head of her class wouldn't be so stupid? Do you think you fool anyone with your little act?"

"Is this what it takes?" Hermione asked, not bothering to hide an ounce of her fury. "There are no teachers here, Malfoy. No Dumbledore, no McGonagall, no Snape. There's not even your Slytherins here to stop you." She watched his face intently for any reaction, but even when she named their former headmaster Malfoy's face remained an impassive mask. The way he coldly regarded her made her uncomfortable, though this whole situation was doing that, and she ached for him to give her a reason to use her wand.

"I'm not the one pointing the wand," Malfoy observed, "And I don't have anything to say that I haven't already. You—all of you, are so stupid!" He burst out suddenly; his uncharacteristic and abrupt drop of his impenetrable facade startling her. His fist flashed out at nothing before he regained himself. Leaning forward and advancing on her slowly, he mimicked a woman's voice. "Granger? Why yes, I've heard of her. She's that little Mudblood at the head of her class." He dropped the voice. "What is it you have nightmares about? Not making head girl?"

He took another step forward, his eyes roving furiously over her in a way that made Hermione's skin crawl. Malfoy didn't stop walking forward until her outstretched wand was at his face again, and only then did he seem to realize how close they'd gotten. Hermione was held rooted to the spot, a spell ready on her tongue and her heart racing, but she didn't dare move.

"You're right," Malfoy murmured, his stare still restlessly traveling over her, "There's no Potter here, no Weasel. And that's the problem." He turned his head away slowly, not quick enough to hide the pained expression that crossed his face. "All of you asked for this, every last bit of it, and you don't even realize it. You can tell that to precious Potter, that is if he ever forgives you for hitting him up with that stuff. But you were never the brightest when it came to that sort of thing, were you Granger?"

At what point she had backed into a tree, she didn't know. But as she pressed her back against it, breaths coming in gasps, she watched Malfoy turn away reluctantly.

Something snapped inside and a fiery and defiant impulse rose in her. It wasn't just because of the rare expression of vulnerability she'd seen on Malfoy. A consuming rage against circumstance in general had been building inside her longer than she knew, and for once she saw that Malfoy wasn't so firmly planted on the side that he usually was.

"Wait! It doesn't have to be like this!" she called after him.

"I suppose that since you were leaving," Malfoy mused out loud as he ignored her, looking back the way she'd come, "You didn't happen to find what you were looking for."

"And how do you know that I didn't? How do you know I don't have it right now?" She snapped.

"You'd be more annoying, I suppose," Malfoy shrugged, looking back at her, "It wasn't as if it was a sure thing. Things like that don't just lie around unclaimed."

Hermione lips twisted, deciding that it was best not to argue the point, no matter how satisfying it might have been. Realizing how easily he'd derailed her from what she'd started on, she resolutely marched after him. Admittedly she watched the dubious ground for sinkholes and potential trip ups more than she was actually watching his wand hand, like she should've been.

"Malfoy, listen to me," she began when she felt she was close enough to adopt a sympathetic tone, "I know what happened on the Astronomy Tower."

"I imagine you do." Malfoy gave her an uninterested look. "And I'd really love to hear about it, but I've got better things to—"

"I know what happened," Hermione repeated firmly, "And I know what happened in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom."

Malfoy looked at her sharply, showing the first sign of emotion that belied what he really felt, Hermione thought. Plowing on ahead, she adjusted her tone, falling into the most unassuming matter-of-fact voice that she hoped he would listen to.

"You know how things are, you're not a killer and you don't have to be. Even Harry says that. It isn't too late. You've done nothing that can't be forgiven. If Snape hadn't—done what he did, everything might have turned out and—"

"Turned out?" he asked in disbelief. "Turned out? Don't you get it? This is exactly what I mean!"

"You could get away, hide somewhere. I could take you to the Order, or—"

"The Order?" He laughed mirthlessly. "They're nothing without Dumbledore. Do you think anyone can hide from the Dark Lord? Would they even listen to you after everything you've done?"

"But you know you have to try," she insisted stubbornly, "You must have thought about it. Maybe you could even help us."

"You—" Malfoy was shaking his head in ill suppressed anger, one hand strangely raising and lowering at his side, "—Are not helping yourself. Is this what my family and I amount to you? Huh? Some little cause that you can throw into until something else comes along? I'm not some poor little house elf that you can throw clothes at to make everything better. What's happened to SPEW lately anyway? Did you drop it when you first thought you could mess with Potter's abysmal love life?"

Her scowl deepened and she looked away, inciting a strange but humorless smile from him.

"Ha! Look at me!" He leaned in close enough that his warm breath touched the edges of her numb cheeks. His expression made as if he was explaining something to a child, throwing exaggerated emphasis on each word. "I do not need—and I do not want your help. You can keep your stupid little ideas and keep pretending you're oh so smart with all the friends you don't have—"

"He'll kill you!" Hermione screamed. "He doesn't care about you or your family! He won't care when you mess up—"

"Aye, the little Mudblood speaks the truth."

They both whirled at the new voice behind them.

Hermione watched in shock as a short and greasy man walked towards them with his wand out, his gnarled face twisting his misshapen features into a grin.

"We're all marked for the Dark Lord's ill temper," the man recited almost pleasantly, his extended arm uncovered, almost flaunting the dark mark, "The best we can do is enjoy the little surprises that come our way in the meantime."

"What are you doing here, Leach?" Malfoy demanded icily.

"Come to check on you, little Malfoy," Leach smiled, flashing a brazen mouth in unfortunate condition, "It's been taking a little longer than you promised. Who's the bitch?"

"No one."

"That's just how I like them—" the way he suddenly twisted his face was the only warning, "Stupefy!"

But Hermione had already whirled around the tree, sending off a stunning spell of her own, though it was too random to have any chance of actually hitting Leach. As spells flew by her, she ducked under the branches reaching down for her, making sure to always keep something behind her for cover.

She suddenly stumbled and fell forward on some underbrush that took hold of her ankle. Squealing as her exposed skin was assaulted by the tangle of cruel branches, her outstretched hands weren't quick enough to keep her out of the pit of mud beneath her. She could feel heavy clods of muck clinging at her hair and the sleeves of her cloak as she struggled in it. Before she could get away, she felt the freezing cold liquid of the mire run down the length of her cloak, making it sag heavy with the filth. Hysterically pushing herself out of the muddy water, she realized that she had lost her wand, but that thought lost precedence in her mind as she tried to get around the nearest tree.

She felt every distinct nuance of the spell that hit her from behind, sending her back to the ground and into the mud, her bare hands getting cut on the twisted branches underneath. Her feet had painfully locked themselves tight together. She twisted around, automatically starting a futile spell, any spell, despite that she had no wand.

"Silencio!" Leach was even closer than she had thought, leaping over the underbrush after her with a grace seemingly unfit for such an uncouth body, his wand delicately leveled down at her. "Huh. She already lost her wand. Saves a bit o' trouble."

She struggled uselessly at the magic pinning her feet together, her cries likewise vain against the blanket of silence covering her. Desperately she crawled backwards away from him, frantically pulling against the branches that had caught her cloak. One sleeve was torn to her elbow, and she felt the slash burn as the muck touched her blood. She was whimpering now. She couldn't hear it but she could feel it.

"Didn't put up much of a fight, even for a Mudblood." Leach murmured, almost taking his time in walking towards her, allowing her room to madly scramble away.

Her shoulders were growing tired from pulling her whole body and her elbows stung harshly from digging them into the ground behind her.

"She isn't much without her friends," she heard Malfoy reply emotionlessly. She turned towards him to see that he was slowly stooping over to retrieve her wand.

Leach didn't answer Malfoy as he slowly gained on her, his eyes revealing that he was weighing something in his mind.

"She's quite a sight," Leach purred, "With all that mud in her hair. Funny hair at that, don't you think?"

Malfoy gave no answer.

"Have you ever had a Mudblood, Malfoy?"

"Let's go, Leach," Malfoy called numbly as though he was far away, refusing to look at Hermione at all, "We've done enough. She's going to have a hell of a time getting out of here."

"Mind yourself, little Malfoy," Leach didn't bother to advert his hungry gaze from her, but his threatening tone was all too clear, "There won't be too much of a surprise left for you, but we all must take what we can get. Oh yes, we must."

Hermione desperately looked over at Malfoy, but he was turned halfway in another direction and had both wands in hand as if he was going to leave. She tried to yell, scream, plead at him. Hoping against everything she had known for the last six years that he would turn back towards her. But no words would come out of her mouth, and Malfoy didn't see her frantic attempts. Hot tears were streaming down her face, mixing with the grime as she struggled through the underbrush, her chest heaving with inaudible gasps that spasmodically clenched painfully at her chest.

With a sense of finality, Leach's foot found the bottom of her cloak, pulling her back down into the mud. Her legs futilely pulled back to kick his leg, but her attempt was too weak with them bound. Groping behind her head, her hand closed upon a solid branch, and she swung it around.

Barely catching it in time, Leach grunted out a chuckle.

"This one's a lively one, I'll give her that. There might still be something worthwhile left for you. But I like my desert cold," Leach half fell on her, one arm pinning her hand with the stick to the ground as he aimed his wand at her face, "Crucio!"

Her free hand that she had been lunging at him halted in front of the face leering down at her as the terrible word pressed down into her. The image froze in her mind as everything else ceased to exist. Merciless pain ran through her, beginning everywhere and ending nowhere. Every nerve in her body exploded in a furious wave of agony. She lost track of everything else, her body writhing on its own as her mind screamed what her mouth couldn't.

She wanted to die. She pleaded mutely to die, to make it stop. She would've done anything in that moment just to die.

Gasping as a blinding light flashed behind her clenched eyelids, the pain receded suddenly. Like a blown out flame against flesh the pain died away, leaving only the fading sensations and her trembling body.

He was on her; the filthy man was on top of her, his body suffocating her. Thrashing wildly beneath him, she realized with horror that the spell was no longer binding her, and her legs were no longer clenched together as they had been.

She screamed so shrilly that it hurt her ears and her throat burned. Her fingers hysterically clawed up at him, her effort pushing her farther down into the mud as she madly struggled to free herself.

Shouting, everyone was shouting at once. Hands were grabbing her shoulders, pulling at her clothes. The terrible face was glaring down at her, eyes frozen and his face contorted in an unnatural manner.

Spinning, the ground she lay upon was spinning. Someone was still shouting, the face was still leering, and the world fell into darkness.