Chapter Text
Draco Malfoy was not sure exactly when it had happened, or how, but it was becoming more and more apparent to himself that he was obsessed with Hermione Granger.
The attraction, or whatever it could be called, had crept into his consciousness so insidiously that by the time he had realized it existed, he felt that it had always been there. This was ridiculous, of course, because he distinctly remembered loathing the mudblood with a fiery passion and enjoying hours of pleasure from tormenting her. Somehow, it seemed, this passion had altered its nature, but it was nevertheless just as fierce.
Draco was aware that the obsession had existed for some time, but the trauma of his father’s arrest and his own sudden immersion in the Dark Arts as the youngest living Death Eater had overpowered it for quite a while. He had almost forgotten about it entirely, and probably would have if he had not been asked to return to Hogwarts to complete his education. He’d had no plans to do so, but after he had escaped the Death Eaters, the Order of the Phoenix had taken him and his mother under their protection, and they had required him to return to school, where it was concluded he would be in no more danger than anywhere else.
Now that he was back, the obsession had returned to Draco with a vengeance. Potter had apparently not allowed Granger to immediately join him on whatever mad quest he’d left school for. Draco did not know the details apart from the fact that its goal would be to defeat the Dark Lord, but he cared little as long as the muggle-born was close at hand. However, he needed to act soon. That youngest Weasley boy had also returned to school, and though Draco doubted if the Weasel would ever have the stones to make a move, he wasn’t going to give any other man the chance to move in on Granger.
At the beginning of his seventh year, Draco made his first conscious decision to pursue the Granger girl. He had no reputation left or anything else to lose by it, and he might stand to gain quite a lot. Even if he failed to win her, it would at least be an entertaining project to keep him busy during his last year, as lessons seemed pointless while only a group of muggle-lovers and half-breeds stood between him and the wrath of Lord Voldemort.
Not that he doubted his chances of success. He had a feeling that Granger would not be satisfied with someone as boring and mild-mannered as Ronald Weasley. She seemed to have a secret attraction towards “bad boys,” if Viktor Krum was any indication, and Draco would make Krum look like a pygmy puff by comparison.
*****
Hermione Granger was having a fairly good school year so far, in spite of everything that had happened. It had been very hard, at first, coming back to a Hogwarts with no Dumbledore and no Harry. She was still very anxious about Harry’s decision to go off alone, and couldn’t quite figure out how he had managed to convince her to stay behind with Ron. Still, she had resigned herself to finishing out her seventh year, and she was pleased about the prospect of completing her education in spite of everything.
To no one’s surprise, Hermione had been named Head Girl (opposite a boy from Ravenclaw), and her office meant that she was given a room to herself in Gryffindor Tower. Each House had two single rooms that magically appeared in the event that they needed to house the Head Girl and/or Boy. While she was put out by the fact that this was mentioned nowhere in Hogwarts: a History, Hermione had to admit that it was a perk. She could get so much more studying done without interruption!
Harry was faithfully keeping in touch with her and Ron by owl, and promised to send for them when he had definitive information about the horcruxes and how to defeat Voldemort. Hermione was anxious that Harry would try to go after Voldemort on his own, but she had to trust that he would keep his word and not do anything stupid. She has threateningly promised him that if she did not receive regular letters, she would go after him herself.
It was only a few weeks into the term, but Hermione was already getting excellent marks as usual. She and Ron weren’t as awkward together as she had feared they might be in Harry’s absence, and having Ginny around was a comfort, especially since she was just as worried about Harry as Ron and Hermione were. Hermione had to admit that even though things were different and strange, they weren’t all that bad. The sensible thing to do was keep living her life as normally as she could, and be prepared to help Harry at a moment’s notice.
*****
Hermione had just managed to finish up her homework in the library before curfew, and quickly put her books away so that she could leave in time to get back to Gryffindor Tower without getting into trouble. It would be poor form for the Head Girl to be caught out of bed after hours. As she hurried along the corridors, she became aware of the presence of footsteps keeping time with hers coming from behind her. When she paused, they paused, when she sped up, so did they, and so on. Her heartbeat quickened with mild anxiety as she glanced behind her, but she could see nothing in the dark halls. She had no particular reason to feel threatened, but she did know now that Hogwarts was not impenetrable, and that any enemy of Harry’s might have cause to come after her.
Her mind rapidly reviewed defensive spells as she drew her wand from her pocket into her hand as smoothly as she could. After a few more steps, she abruptly broke into a run, trying to lose her pursuer. When she came to an intersection between two hallways, she ran down the one that lead to Gryffindor Tower and then abruptly slid behind a suit of armor and hid in the shadows. To her relief, the footsteps ran past her without stopping and faded slowly into silence. She listened carefully for any sign of movement and slowly loosened her grip on her wand.
Taking deep, slow breaths to calm herself down, Hermione waited in the shadows for a few more moments before deciding it was safe to continue to the Tower. However, as she leaned her face out from behind the suit of armor to check if the corridor was empty, two hands came out of the darkness and grabbed her arms, pulling them together and pinning them over her head. Hermione tried to scream, but her captor’s left hand covered her mouth while his right one—for she knew by his size and strength that it must be a man—held both her hands together against the cold stones of the wall.
Hermione struggled, but the man held her fast, so that her resistance was pointless. Bidden by a sort of morbid curiosity, or perhaps simply to banish her fear of the unknown, Hermione looked up into the man’s face. For a moment she did not recognize him, for his fringe was in his eyes, but as his lips twisted up into a smirk, her eyes widened with horrified recognition, and conveyed the one shocked word she could not speak: Malfoy?!
Malfoy interpreted her look of shock correctly, and his smirk widened into a mischievous grin. He did not remove his hand from her mouth or let go of her arms except to slide her wand out of her hand and transfer it to his. Oh God, it couldn’t be him. Why did it have to be him? He should be in Azkaban or at the very least serving Voldemort but never back at Hogwarts. He was the person who had betrayed this place to the Death Eaters and he had been allowed to come back? It defied reason.
“Yes, it’s me, Granger,” Malfoy said with his characteristic drawl. “Surprised to see me?”
Hermione recovered and glared up at Malfoy, renewing her efforts to get free. She tried to bite his hand, but he somehow kept it out of reach of her teeth without removing it. With her arms pinned, she couldn’t attempt to get her wand back from him. As she continued to struggle, panic welled back up inside her. It could have been anyone else and she would not have been afraid. Any Death Eater. Maybe even Voldemort himself. She would have been brave. But for some reason she was terrified of Draco Malfoy, and all she could do was try to hide it.
“Shh,” Malfoy cooed mockingly. “Struggling will obviously do no good. I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”
Hermione gave Malfoy a look of deep distrust and glared as fiercely as she could. If she could focus on how much she hated him, maybe he wouldn’t notice the fact that she was trembling. Malfoy only chuckled.
“I can see your trust is not going to be easy to win,” he sighed, blowing his fringe out of his face. Then he shrugged nonchalantly. “Oh well. I don’t need you to trust me. At least not right now.”
Hermione stopped struggling momentarily, unable to stifle her curiosity. What was he playing at? She waited for him to continue, the back of her mind still frantically trying to work out how to get her wand back.
“I’ve decided something, Granger, and regardless of what recent events might indicate, when I really have my mind fixed on something, I don’t stop until I get what I want.” Malfoy casually removed his hand from Hermione’s mouth to pound his fist on the wall, emphasizing his determination.
It did not even occur to Hermione to scream when Malfoy moved his hand away. Instead, she looked up at him warily and asked, “And what have I got to do with your awful obsessions, Malfoy? If you’re going to try to bully me into helping you, I—”
Malfoy did not even have to put his hand back on her mouth; he simply made a silencing gesture with his free hand and gave her a warning look before his lips eased back into a smirk. What was wrong with her? Why wasn’t she screaming for help? Even if she couldn’t get to her wand, she could at least do that.
“You’ve got everything to do with my decision, Granger,” Malfoy continued as if there had been no interruption, “because I’ve decided that I want you, and as I’ve said, I usually get what I want.” He said this as casually as if he had been talking about a particularly delicious dessert.
Hermione’s speechlessness was solidified with that declaration. She stared up at Malfoy, her mouth agape, her mind frantically trying to figure out what he was really after and how badly this would end. Malfoy ignored her and bent closer, looking at her intently. Hermione had only ever seen that particular expression on men who had been bewitched by Veela, and it frightened her in a different way than the threatening looks Malfoy had given her earlier. What did he mean? How could this not be some sick game? Just as she thought for sure that Malfoy was going to kiss her, he tilted his head to the side as if to kiss her on the cheek, but he didn’t do that either.
“You’re going to belong to me now,” he whispered roughly into Hermione’s oversensitive ear. “The sooner you accept that, the better you and I will get along.”
She shivered and tried to pull away, but he held her firmly against the wall with seemingly very little effort. Her back and wrists felt bruised and she couldn’t figure out what else he wanted from her before he would let her be.
Even while her mind raged that she didn’t belong to anyone, and that Malfoy could never tell her what to do, Hermione could not force the words through her lips. Her body was practically frozen, apparently only responsive to Malfoy’s will rather than her own, and she felt that her voice had fled for good. He hadn’t even used any magic, and she felt compelled to do whatever he told her to.
“What’ve you got to say to that?” The question was whispered into her neck this time, softly, commanding and enticing at the same time. Malfoy released Hermione’s arms slowly, but she could not move them. He lifted his head and stared into her eyes, unblinking, so that she was transfixed. Without breaking the gaze, he gently guided her arms back to her sides. She still did not feel like she could control them, and getting her wand back was still out of the question.
“Is the Great Hermione Granger speechless? Impossible!” Draco taunted. “Tell me that you know I’m right.” He said this with a dangerous smirk.
Hermione stared back into Malfoy’s piercing stormy eyes, still frozen, but her voice was compelled by fear.
“I…” She blinked and looked down, utterly horrified at her own inability to resist, to even just stay silent, but Malfoy’s hand gently raised her chin so that she was looking into his eyes again. “I’ll admit… that I think… that you might not be wrong.”
Malfoy stared at Hermione with an unreadable expression, then after a few excruciating moments his lips broke into an amused smile that was not altogether unpleasant.
“Ever-so-clever as always, Granger. I should have expected nothing less.” He straightened up and stepped back a few inches, so that Hermione was free. “I’ll accept that… for now.” On the last two words, his eyes gained a threatening gleam, but they softened again as he gazed at her frightened face.
“Don’t worry, precious.” He almost seemed to purr as he brushed her hair behind her ears with two fingers as if to soothe her, but his expression was anything but comforting. “If I haven’t hurt you yet, you can be sure that I don’t intend to.”
He leaned close to her then, and just when she thought again that he might kiss her, he slipped her wand back into her pocket and turned to leave. Before Hermione could say another word, he had disappeared around a corner and was gone. It was not until ten minutes later that she realized she was half an hour past curfew and that she’d better not let any of the other students see her on her way back to Gryffindor Tower.